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Writer's pictureL. Roy Aiken

After the Big Holiday Dinner, the Old Man Explains How It All Came to Pass

A No-Thanks Thanksgiving Poem

 

I was following some pages

on social media. One in particular

decries the decline

of art and architecture

following the modern and

postmodern movements

of the 20th century,

a sentiment with which I

heartily concur

 

After a while I had to unfollow this page

because it’s one thing to disagree

with notions like monarchy being

preferable to a constitutional republic

(I was curious to see

which inbred bloodline of

pompous stupid paranoiacs

someone thought should get the job

but no one seemed to have any ideas)

 

it’s another thing entirely when

nominally intelligent men

have forgotten how things used to be

and beside the point that

it’s impossible to go back.

 

It was all just lazy, mean and stupid

which is why it failed in the first place.

Here’s what this old man remembers

of those God-awful Good Old Days:


It was not even dignified with “tradition”

and at least that much was true

it was “simply the way things are done”

and the way those things were done

was intolerably obtuse

 

When our elders are scolding us

from one side of their crooked mouths

about how we didn’t appreciate

our Unique Freedom as Americans™

while sending us home from school for

wearing blue jeans

it can stand for just so long

 

We couldn’t even buy beer on Sunday

(For the longest time in South Carolina

you could buy toothpaste, but not a toothbrush

on the Sabbath) because God or something

 

We all knew that one queer guy

the woman who was “that way”

and they weren’t raping children

and didn’t have any “agenda” other

than making an honest living

and doing whatever it was they did

in peace. A lot of the guys were

funnier than the funniest comedians

pre-packaged for us on the three channels

and the lesbians were harder and smarter

than most (nominally) hetero men and got stuff done


so, good grief, you people and

your damned Holy Book again

 

There was no love, none whatsoever

just the smug coercion of the bully

soon enough the bullies grew old

and died, and as their children

we happily threw the supposed

church-backed restrictions over

one by one, with prejudice

 

until we came to today

when now we know that

the slippery slope theory

isn’t a fallacy, but axiomatic.

the queers came for our children

smirking and giggling all the while

the blacks enjoy more

preferential treatment than anyone

yet treat the culture that pampers them

with murderous contempt.

 

The native stocks of Christendom

are being overrun thanks to humanity’s

most ancient enemy, the sons of the father

of lies and murder, whose faith

is based on their blind hatred

of God’s only Son.

 

The plot goes back over a century.

Every war this country has fought

since 1898 was a false-flag setup

that required no engagement requiring

so many millions of men, women,

and children suffering and dying

for the pure Satanic spite

of the children of the father

of lies and murder.

 

Once you understand there is such a thing

as sadistic, murderous evil that exists

to immiserate and murder for no other reason

than hatred of everything happy

and beautiful and kind it all makes perfect sense.

 

The good news there is a God in opposition

to all this, but you’ve been well trained by the enemy

to believe you’re already happy and free in your chains

on the great Death Row of the souls.

 

The bad news is I’m the mean old man and well out of step

with an age that celebrates children "discovering"

their sexuality. I’m just a mean old man who misses

when girls were ladies and only bikers, sailors, Marines

and other rough men earned the privilege of tattoos.

Who remembers when grown adults didn’t shop

in their pajama bottoms, when every other person you saw

wasn’t old-time circus freak show obese.

 

I don’t miss the mean old men I grew up

but you’d think we could have stopped

at a happier medium

somewhere along our slide.

 

You’d be as wrong as me.

Anyway….

 

I don’t know

about the rest of you

but I’m ready for dessert.

How about you?


 




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