« BACK  |  PRINT

RS

MEMBER DIARY

We must never pass this way again

Tomorrow will be an historic day is our effort to save our nation, our shining light on its hill, from having its light extinguished and the world cast into a millennium of darkness.

As many have pointed out, we haven’t won anything yet, and we must be energetic in the next day to turn our current advantage in this battle into victory.

Recognizing that this is just the first step in what will be a lengthy and hard fought struggle against forces that have been working for over a hundred years to promote a hellish future for the world that is diametrically opposed to the principles behind the rule of law and other bedrock principles that affirm and defend our liberty.

Time for me to join other determined citizens to muster our forces to bring out the vote and to ensure the best we can that this vote be not marred by fraud and betrayal by high officials.

As a reminder to the future we seek to avert, let me reprint the poem below by Rudyard Kipling written in the aftermath of World War I that had snuffed out the lives of so many sons, including his own son.

A testimony of the consequences when people betray their marriage to truth and let themselves be lured away to commit adultery again with the lies that falsely promote an easier way.

The path that tragically our current leaders and so many fellow citizen seem determined to take, once more ignoring the lessons of history and the terrible abyss just ahead that is opening its jaws for our nation and indeed the whole world.

Let us, then, resolve that our nation and this world not pass this way again

————————————————–

The Gods of the Copybook Headings

————————————————–

As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race,
I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market Place.
Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.

We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn
That Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn:
But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of Mind,
So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March of Mankind.

We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace,
Being neither cloud nor wind-borne like the Gods of the Market Place,
But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word would come
That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome.

With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch,
They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch;
They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings;
So we worshipped the Gods of the Market Who promised these beautiful things.

When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual peace.
They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would cease.
But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: “Stick to the Devil you know.”

On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life
(Which started by loving our neighbour and ended by loving his wife)
Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: “The Wages of Sin is Death.”

In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all,
By robbing selected Peter to pay for collective Paul;
But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money could buy,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: “If you don’t work you die.”

Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards withdrew
And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it was true
That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it once more.

As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man
There are only four things certain since Social Progress began.
That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire,
And the burnt Fool’s bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire;

And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins
When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins,
As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn,
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!

http://www.kipling.org.uk/poems_copybook.htm

Get Alerts