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Pride and Joy and Me

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Message Mark Sashine
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Mr. Doolee: Well, Congress seems to to go warruck agin
Mr. Hennessee: God, save us from harm.

From Theodore Rex
By E. Morris


'Enslaved, illogical, elate,
He greets the embarrassed Gods, nor fears
To shake the iron hand of Fate
Or match with Destiny for beers.'

R. Kipling. An American


I am profoundly happy. And I can't help it. Yes, I still see the overwhelming ears of Nancy Pelosi. Those ears do not really radiate confidence.

And yes, I woke up to Joe, the Loveman saying something really cute, 'I am Joe Lieberman and I approve these elections.' Gives me the creeps. But all of that cannot spoil the feeling of pride and joy that my country is still alive and bloodsuckers had not yet totally paralyzed it. Hey, VP buzzard, how does it feel when you cannot get the regular blood supply? Killed any more innocent beings lately?

When you come back we will get you for those innocent birds you've killed and not only for them. And that maggot in the White House, he is 'disappointed'. Good, Georgie, go kiss Rick Santorum good-bye. He needs your kiss badly, darling.

One of the pitfalls of the first-generation immigrant is that you lose the sense of happiness. You try desperately to be happy up to the absurdity, resembling all the Desperate Housewives squared, but nothing comes to you except emptiness and disappointment. The worst of us invent a surrogate for themselves, a certain artificial replacement in a form of a hysterical love effort directed whether at Bush or at Israel or sometimes at their own retirement. But the best of us keep trying. We reach out to people, talk to them, write to them, read books, listen carefully and breath the same air.

And the reward comes.

A Divine Spark shines for a moment through the night and at that moment an immigrant like me feels himself at home. That's happiness.

I am proud of my country. I am proud of the people of Missouri who put the stem cells research on the ballot although I personally do not approve that thing. But so what? Those folks in Missouri are wiser than me. They know that choice is always better than nothing. I raise my glass of beer to Saint- Louis, MO.

I am proud of the people of SD who rejected the abortion ban. That means there are many more good folks there than I expected. Shame on me. I should know better. We will not witness the abomination of the women-hunt.

My beloved state of Ohio, the Buckeye state, the first place where I lived and where I wanted to retire had dumped that monster Blackwell. Here's for Columbus, Cleveland, Athens and Dayton! They rock again. And their voice had been picked up in the neighboring Kentucky where Wendell Berry lives, the one who wrote his 'Citizen's Response' to Bush in Y2001, the first one who rose up, may he be blessed forever, the true follower of the Great Son of Kentucky. Here's to you all!

My dear neighboring state of MA has elected itself a first black governor, the Democrat Duvall Patrick. I congratulate one of the most progressive states of America and I sincerely hope that the Colored Volunteers watch us all and rejoice in Heaven. They did not storm the Fort Wagner in vain, those glorious soldiers of freedom.

Oh yes, it is only a start. The dragon's teeth are intact: the Homeland Security, the TSA, the Patriot Act, the Detainee Act, the Iraqi abomination, the Negroponte scheme, the astronomical deficit, the crooks in power, the vampires in charge, the marauders in the key positions. They are still there. But the ground crumbles under their feet and that magic voice of the American people roars over the land and the light of the day is overcoming the darkness first time since the darkness crept on us in the Y2001. We shall overcome! My homeland is still the Land of the Free. I feel it and I am happy.

Two musical pieces define my destiny. The first one is the Farewell of the Slavic Woman March, the pride and glory of my former country, the masterpiece of its soul of eternal sacrifice. And the second one is the Battle Hymn Of The Republic, the magnificent patriotic song of the US Civil War, 'Glory, Glory, Hallelujah, The Truth is Marching On!' I listen to it every day, atheist as I am and I see Julia Ward Howe as the face of my new home. I hear America singing! May that song never stop!
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Mark Sashine Social Media Pages: Facebook page url on login Profile not filled in       Twitter page url on login Profile not filled in       Linkedin page url on login Profile not filled in       Instagram page url on login Profile not filled in

The writer is 67 years old, semi- retired engineer, PhD, PE. I write fiction on a regular basis and I am also 10 years on OEN.

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