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Politics/Culture

Can Freedom Survive a Movement
Built on Hate? (Rhetorical Question…)

The words below have been spoken, part of the historical record, and they speak powerfully for their respective viewpoints. So I will leave very few words here myself. I was going back and forth about the order I should put these video clips in, but a bit of reflection was all I needed to understand who and what must be slotted in as the last word.

May the goodness, kindness, compassion, mercy, forgiveness and love associated with the gods of every religion, of the life force and the best of the human heart, prevail in this struggle to lay claim to America’s better angels.

Peace. Shalom. Salām. Shanti. Eiríni. Paix. Paz. Síocháin. Frieden. Fred. Mir. Vrede. Béke. Pokój. Heiwa. Pyeonghwa. Hépíng. Solh. Salamu. Zhi-bde.

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See and hit the Follow button at https://www.facebook.com/andrew.hidas for regular 1-minute or less dispatches from the world’s great thinkers, artists and musers, accompanied always by lovely photography.

Deep appreciation to the photographers! Unless otherwise stated, some rights reserved under Creative Commons licensing

Homepage rotating banner photos (except for library books) by Elizabeth Haslam  https://www.flickr.com/photos/lizhaslam/

Library books by Larry Rose, Redlands, California, all rights reserved, contact: larry@rosefoto.com

Dandelion by Aleksandr Ledogorov https://unsplash.com/@breakfast_on_jupiter

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Robert Spencer
Robert Spencer
4 months ago

Are you trying to say that Trump lacks any sense of decency? Rhetorical.

Gerry Ausiello
Gerry Ausiello
4 months ago
Reply to  Andrew Hidas

Electing him BOTH times says more about us than him!

Kirk Thill
Kirk Thill
4 months ago

Hi Drew, Hope I am not taking advantage of your blog space. But after rereading “To Build a Fire, Jack London (Thanks to my High School English teacher). It compelled me to write this poem comparing this remarkable short story to todays destructive force that threatens our democracy The Fire and the Flag Kirk Otto Thill Paulsen
He walked alone beneath a sky
Where silence froze the breath of men,
A trail of thought, a spark gone dry,
No heed to warnings spoken then.
The dog beside him knew the way—
Not through maps, but through the bone,
While he, with logic on display,
Believed no force could cast him prone.
The fire he built was bright, but brief,
A flicker in the endless white,
And arrogance, that quiet thief,
Had robbed him of his second light.
So too, a nation built on flame,
Of voices raised and truths declared,
Now finds its hearth not quite the same
Its pillars cracked, its people scared.
A man stood tall, defied the storm,
Dismissed the elders, mocked the law,
He shaped the cold into a form
That fed on grievance, fear, and flaw.
But fire, once sacred, must be fed
With care, with trust, with honest breath,
Or else it dims, and leaves instead
A smoldering path that leads to death.
He’d slit the dog to warm his blood
No thought for life beyond his own.
The dog survives. The man does not.
The flag still flies—but frayed and worn.
And every fire we once forgot
Now asks: will we rebuild, or be reborn?