The Emperor's Naked

 

It seems that these days are some of the darkest that we’ve seen; that wherever we turn, things are not turning out righteous and still we hope. We pray that “Whenever one person stands up and says ‘wait a minute, this is wrong’ it will help other people to do the same” (Anon). And yet no one will admit the Emperor has no clothes.

 

Po Boy Views

By

Phil LaMancusa

Dreamer

Or

What’s Goin’ On?

        How old am I? I was old when groups like the Raspberries, Strawberry Alarm Clock and The 1910 Fruitgum Company were making money with bad beats and childish lyrics. I was old when The Doors, Grateful Dead and Big Brother and the Holding Company (with Janis Joplin) made my head explode; and, I was still older when Industrial, Heavy Metal, Electronic, Hip Hop, Rap and Woke music snuck their way into my aural aura. I digested folk music at an early age; I swooned over progressive jazz in my formative years and I get misty on classical and symphonic music. I am at peace with that Eastern Raga; and I jump up and kiss Reggae tunes. Country and Western music and Rhythm and Blues really can get me going and I can sing along with Marvin Gaye and Sam Cooke ‘til the train rolls in. All of which makes me a well rounded and dedicated revolutionary; who better equipped to rail against the machine?

        Add to that that I am an insatiable reader of just as many genres as the music that I listen to; I disappeared into books when I was young like someone running into the woods and have not returned yet. I was born old and have only gotten younger and more energetic with each trip around the sun and my getting younger does not mean that I’ve gotten naive (quite the opposite). I have seen and have an aversion to cruelty, injustice and the self serving hypocrisy, misogyny and the mendacity of people who, through no consent of mine, believe themselves fit and in charge of the health and well being of more than themselves; bastards all.

        You see, basically you cannot have all that stuff running around in your veins and gray cells without thinking that there should be something done to end this madness and insanity in the day to day living on this planet that only gets weirder and more hurtful as months and years pass. I can give you so many examples; however, good taste has my avoiding topics in my rants that include sex, politics and religion. You, as astute as you are, can read between the lines and put context with my content to your hearts delight.

        The average age of our readership is well below my half lifetime and I wonder if not experience and exposure hath not made my little outlook less rosy and/or sanguine. Youngsters might consider that I, as well as other geezers have been witness to events and condition that are possibly unimaginable to a younger generation: abject racism, sexism, fires, floods, storms, wars, assassinations, civil liberties fought for and won (or lost), earthquakes, devastations and defeats of all stripes; and that that might tend to drizzle a bit on an oldster’s current outlook, but know that under it all, I maintain a Quixotic sense that good will triumph over evil no matter the scars that we must carry forth for our efforts, no matter how many times “heaven calls in sick on me and let hell’s claws bust through these doors. Love still lives here” (Robert J. Sherrah). Amen.

        So, this month will be full of storms and as I live and breathe I can assure you that at times it will seem like “cheer up things could be worse” is only an assurance that even when you cheer up, things get worse. If you’ve been paying attention at all and not so busy trying to keep your life from falling apart physically, mentally and emotionally you’ll have seen the clouds on the horizon looking like the storm of your existence is about to blow this house to the Kingdom of L. Frank Baum where your spirit will be risked at great expense. There will be times when someone will tell you “you ain’t seen nuthin’ yet” and have it sound like an omen; and, of course it is, but they only say that because their memory has not let go of their experiences, good or not good.

        The only challenge with that is they are not you; you are the warrior, no matter your age. In essence we’re all living with our own battle of good versus evil and it’s up to us to keep up the fight; the powers that have taken it upon themselves to make decisions about our health and welfare need to be kept challenged on a constant basis no matter how tiring and frustrating it may be. The bastards need that power taken away from them.

        I say, pay attention to that person behind the curtain; would you have tea, buy a car, take a pill, or vote with confidence for them? Would you invite them into your house, share a meal or a bed with them; trust your children or your money with them; trust and let them tell you what’s best for you and not what they can benefit from?

        Listen, there’s a story going around about a small country that has been invaded by and is at war with a power far superior in assets and weaponry than they and yet they fight for their land, freedom and dignity. The world watches and tries to support their efforts and still they’re getting their asses kicked royally. And still they fight. How could you let complacency allow you to be less than them in your personal life? And yes, I said that this piece would avoid discourse on sex, politics and religion; I lied, he is naked.