This morning’s Washington Post leads with the story that none other than Vice President Cheney led the reporting teams who enlightened the special Congressional committee on “enhanced interrogations techniques,” as he likes to call them, not “torture” as do most on the left.
I’m not at all sure if that information is enlightening; in fact, it may serve only to darken the mysteries—not of what happened, but of whether or not what happened was in the finest interests of America itself. We seem so immensely divided right now that nothing or no one can bridge the gulf. Lacking only a stumpy mustache, Obama is but another Hitler—did you know that? He’s just another charismatic leader deluding the masses into following him to whatever iniquity his evil mind conspires to promote.
And Cheney, who lacks only a helmet in his sweeping darkness, would likely speak through a tube like his soul-mate, Darth Vader, in his quest to exonerate himself and George W., from the list of sins nailed to the gates of the city of Washington DC by the new regime. Both sides wallow in darkness, when seen from the other.
A house divided against itself is what we are. Some of my oldest and best friends—some of my family—think I’ve gone over to the dark side because I won’t admit that Obama is, in plain and simple fact, the root of all evil, Sodormayor his latest Latina lackey.
Yesterday we received another one of those patriotic “re: re: re: re:” e-mails that features that famous painting of Christ the Shepherd over a background of the stoutly waving stars and stripes, “The Battle Hymn of the Republic,” sung by kids, gloriously harmonizing behind everything else. I have no problem with Christ the Shepherd—he is my Savior; and I have no problem with the American flag—I’m fourth and fifth generation American; but the illicit relationship between the two –God and country—is a horrific scandal. By my reckoning, America is no more God’s chosen nation than is South Africa. When John Winthrop, wrapping himself in biblical language, called New England, “a city on a hill,” he didn’t mean the nation we now know as America—he meant the world he knew, the Massachusetts Bay Colony, and he wasn’t even right on that score.
No matter. It seems there ain’t no middle ground, but then the vast majority of my friends are Christians. I’m not sure what life is like among those who aren’t. Let’s just put it this way: among Christians these days it seems the real peacemakers are few and far between.