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A Putrid Image

July 19, 2016

Imagine it’s July 1850, you’re sitting on the porch of the Big House, with the plantation owner and his wife, who wears a lovely white gown. You want to lift her up onto a pedestal, for all to see, the image of all that is pure, and true, and valuable. She makes life worth the living. Imagine her husband accepted your praise, as he steps out onto the porch, like a god. The darkies are singing softly on the lawn.

In September Congress will pass the Fugitive Slave Act.

Imagine the riders in the night, with their torches lighting their white hoods. Riding in defense of all that makes life meaningful, all that is under attack.

So much has happened since then. A darkie and his wife and children live in the White House. For, going on eight years, you’ve had to watch their pretending and pretentiousness. You know who should be living there. You know who’s truly valuable. You know what must be done, and you know who can do it. (Did I mention that you’re white?)

Look, there she is, up on the stage, at the podium, so lovely, the very image.

[It’s what must be made safe again, by The Security State (R Con 2).]

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  1. The Security State (R Con 2) | tomkoontz

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