I told you so. This is what happens under a Stopped Sun. The Trumpfs of the world crawl out of our Shadow and stand like they are proud. Amidst it the Bush League has conjured up a Democrat or two. The aspirational Nobel around Obama’s neck was outdone by drones and the decadence of empire. It will look snazzy under glass in the Library. Make no mistake, H. Clinton will push the PNAC button with fingers as deft as GWB or BHO.
Bernie was a nice try, but the Sun don’t restart for any old self-proclaimed Democratic Socialist. What was awry remains so. Nothing has been corrected. All of our arrogance is intact and we are intent on scolding our teachers and shaman. We need to renew; instead we redo. We think that our technological expedience can match the long knowledge of fingers in soil, yet we know that our roots came up from the dirt into this place and it makes us uneasy. When we respect where we came from, those that were here before us, and all the ways that others came to be here with us, then (maybe) we can release the Sun.