It is very difficult to write about current events nowadays. Every day the same old, same old, is pumped out by the MainStream Media which appears to act at the behest of a higher power. Politicians make pronouncements in the face of all reason and seem to be drawn to war as though they have hooks in their jowls or rings in their noses.
Against all reason they want to send the youth of their country, both male and female, to die in foreign lands and tout the old lies of fighting '...for queen and country' or '...to keep our country free' over and over again.
And the masses of people, their awareness dulled by hours of watching television, sport, rock concerts etc blindly repeat the propaganda beamed at them by those with a vested interest in the charade.
Those who pay with their blood and their livelihoods, who attend the services for the fallen, who listen to the rabid rantings of mediocre politicians acquiesce as their land is stripped from them and all power coalesces in the hands of a few. And the laughable thing is that those men and women who believe themselves to be a part of the Elite, of the Powers that be, do not realise that they are simply Pawns in the Game just as the rest of humanity are. They do not see that their own minds are controlled by some other power - that comes from the darkest parts and will no doubt eventually return there.
They are happy to watch as men, women and children are killed and mutilated as a result of their decisions. And the so called Heroes do not think as their actions are used to accomplish this perfidy.
As Mark Twain so eloquently put it ~
O Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth to battle -- be Thou near them! With them -- in spirit -- we also go forth from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe. O Lord our God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with little children to wander unfriended the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames of summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring Thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it -- for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy their steps, water their way with their tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet! We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love, and Who is the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.