Skip to main content

Halloween horror in modern America

There's the phony, made-up horrors:

 
 Hat tip to Daily Kos.

And then there are the real horrors that have become an everyday staple of life in modern America.


Tried to break into an African-American church in Jeffersontown, Kentucky, in order to kill worshipers. When that didn't work, he went to the local Kroger's and shot and killed an elderly African-American couple who were shopping there, telling a white shopper, "Whites don't kill whites."


Left: Attempted to assassinate with bombs numerous prominent Democrats including two former presidents and media critics of the president who, in his rallies, frequently praises those who commit political violence.

Right: Went to a synagogue in Pittsburg during the Saturday service and murdered eleven people because he had been riled up by the president and his propaganda arm, Fox News, about an "invading caravan" of refugees entering the country, allegedly abetted by a Jewish group which aids refugees.

These three might be brothers. Indeed, they are brothers in hate.

Dare I say "Happy Halloween"?
Labels:

Comments

  1. CarmenOctober 31, 2018 at 1:05 PM

    We are living in very sad times indeed when people get killed in their places of worship, schools, entertainment venues, at work...For their faith, for their race, for their political ideas...In fact, almost everywhere and just for breathing.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersOctober 31, 2018 at 2:46 PM

      You've summed it up perfectly. I can't add anything to that.

      Delete
  2. Judy KruegerNovember 2, 2018 at 10:53 AM

    You could say "Unhappy Halloween".

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Dorothy BordersNovember 2, 2018 at 1:14 PM

      It was at my house. We got almost 4 inches of rain that day and no happy little trick or treaters came to our door.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...
19 comments
Read more

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters!  Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...
6 comments
Read more

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...
24 comments
Read more