Re-election of Obama solves nothing
Hail to the chief, the President of the Dis-United States of distracted people. His way with words charms like great music in the woe-filled ears of a majority.
These unfocused multitudes, however, shall remain divided into two great polarized camps opposing one another until one day war will openly break out as men take up arms one neighbor against the other — those who identify themselves as independent island nations and those who depend upon no one but their Lord for strength and salvation.
Good. I am exceedingly glad that Mr. Barack Obama has his mandate for four more years of overseeing a nation in discord, disharmony and costly natural disasters.
But do not expect the Obama drama to be synonymous with a remaking of choices, political or personal, in favor of following the Lord’s orders. There will be no repenting from our financial over-indulgences or the waste of aborting human fetuses.
Rather, the decision has been made by the multitudes against the long-term best interests of the multitudes by themselves by their votes. But by God, a decision to render a judgment upon the entire population of the United States of America has already come down from on high; beginning with Hurricane Katrina on the Gulf Coast, then expanding human misery and destruction of property to the Manhattan concrete canyons in New York with Hurricane Sandy; for the sad mistaken multitudes who are running after unearned wealth through stock market purchases, bad bank deposits and a growing lust for gambling revenues believe that every man is an island nation answerable only to their own conscience.
And so too must every person living here in southwestern Pennsylvania have their day of reckoning for prospering with Lady Luck instead of laboring honestly for prosperity.
I know that my phrases are not popular like Obama’s phrases who fawns to the vanity of men and women. I cannot copy the style of an Obama nor a Beethoven. Still, some stirring rhythms were once heard by those who have removed the stinking wax plugs from their ears to hear daily my engrafted word within their own heads.
So pick up your daily newspaper, and pick up the beat of my recruiter’s drum beat. And like the March wind coming down Chestnut Ridge like a voracious lion, or the roar of a Handel chorus, try and imagine your own misery, your own futures as you continue reading about what will transpire in these Herald-Standard pages at 30 years distance. Scattered though they are, I gave you the truth.
Now, prepare to receive a thrill through your entire body like a 220-volt electric shock from a cattle prod, because you are behaving like a herd of animals due to your inborn resistance to the Holy Spirit.
And what shocks. What transfigurations will you still witness but not understand when in these morning paper editions the simple, sane, unchanging truth issues forth from the typist’s skillful hands of my Lord’s immortal hero and faithful servant.
S. Raymond Pohaski is a resident of Uniontown.