Americans need to come to the realization...

[lovemydog]

3. Well-said kentuck. Not sure if you were thinking of Yeats

but it reminds me of one of his poems. Here's my take on your thoughtful post. Trickle-down economics was proven at best a fraud and at worst a crime that impoverished millions. The War in Iraq, the war on women, deregulation of banks, and the list goes on.

Yet most are so enamored with 'the other Party is always wrong' that they keep voting for the same abysmal and destructive policies. I think that is a real problem in this country. And I'm not just talking about Republicans. Many Democrats are talking at them, not with them or to them. The Democratic party keeps going right as well.

We need policies that more closely resemble other industrialized nations. In those countries, it's called Centrist. Here, it's call Far-Left Wing.

I'm usually an optimistic person and a humanist. I think from an economic and political standpoint we have darker days ahead. Particularly for those for whom I care most - people who work forty hours a week and can barely make ends meet.

I think Elizabeth Warren (to just use one example) is trying to break the cycle. But it must be millions more like her, who can elect more than half of Congress, for real change to occur. I'm very skeptical about that happening in my lifetime. But I'll keep fighting the good fight because it's better than giving up or making myself less aware or informed, lol.

Thanks for making me think. I hope you enjoy a good day. Here's the poem:

The Second Coming
by William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.

The darkness drops again but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

http://www.potw.org/archive/potw351.html