We are confronted with the fierce urgency of now. In this unfolding conundrum of life and history there is such a thing as being too late. Procrastination is still the thief of time. Life often leaves us standing bare, naked and dejected with a lost opportunity. The “tide in the affairs of men” does not remain at the flood; it ebbs. We may cry out desperately for time to pause in her passage, but time is deaf to every plea and rushes on. Over the bleached bones and jumbled residue of numerous civilizations are written the pathetic words: “Too late.” There is an invisible book of life that faithfully records our vigilance or our neglect. “The moving finger writes, and having writ moves on…” We still have a choice today . . .
Today and tomorrow Americans will celebrate the memory of Martin Luther King, Jr., while blithely ignoring his message.
Land of the free? Home of the brave? (I’ll spare you the video of those four Marines urinating on the bodies of their dead adversaries because patriotic Americans like Rick Perry have already told us not to be troubled by that).
I wonder what Rick would say if the video showed the opposite? But it doesn’t so I guess everything’s fine.
Dead giants. Living pygmies. Too late indeed!