Pool_2

>> This One <<

It didn't just come, it hemorrhaged, as Marcus began, “His name was Doctor Rockwell, and those were troubled times.

It wasn't just war abroad. In Vietnam’s mud we had come unglued. Our convictions and commonality, all in question - questions screamed in shrill square mouthed battle cries. Violence was vogue.

Just causes were, just ... causes unfettered of measure. We had principles. We would fight. But who were we, violent for violence sake, violent for peace? Aggravated adults and seething pseudoadults united only by form, linked in national tantrum, mindlessly lashing out in an age of id, masturbating with rage, and raging against self gratification until blind.

War. Nam. From out of nowhere, a place that had never gone anywhere. Flames of unreason were burning everything and they weren’t fueled by ideology, but rather, an absence of it. Fear lacked cause.

Identity flipped on slick phraseology. He asked us - to ask not. All face but no brains, this handsome jut jaw crooked finger wagging womanizing cult figure of the young, asked us - to ask not. Ask not what the country could do for us. Ask not! Government for the people had become passe'. We the people were to be people for the government - and asked to ask not.