The Great Unraveling

And the Antichrist gazed down upon a world in shadow; he
Saw nuclear weapons and psychiatry, and he knew that it
Was good. Yet there was one nation that irked the Prince of
Darkness; for it contained unbridled powers, and the sword
Of rebellion still lay unsheathed upon its brow. Indeed, this

Was a strange land where the people resisted war, tribalism,
And every attempt to foment blindness. And so the archfiend
Sent for Beelzebub, the polluter of sweet meadows, a demon
Born of a doom unpenitent. “My esteemed scoundrel, eternal
Wraith of the enveloping half-light: Note this deranged people

Who engage in every manner of wickedness. Set upon these
Deplorable heathens and correct this vile unphilistine behavior,
For they do offend my sight, and embolden the son of He, our
Most inviolable enemy. Go now villain, and do thy worst.” And
So Beelzebub set down upon that most strange and savage

Land. First, he unleashed deindustrialization, replacing factories
With jails, so that misery bled and the automaton reigned. Then
He lay siege to the schools, replacing music and art with metal
Detectors and frightful men with guns. Next, he ensured that all
Newspapers were corralled betwixt the zone of Mephistopheles,

So that no truthful voices could contaminate the lamb. Proceeding
Apace, he took the glass house that was this peculiar tongue and
Dropped it from the highest point unto the heavens, so that the ties
That had formerly bound them together were shattered, whereon
Brother fought with brother, native with foreigner, woman with man,

And black with white; the old in their madness, sacrificing the young.
Still unsatisfied, in his bloodlust, and to ensure that from that desert
Would no grasses grow, he burned their sacred texts, replacing words
With vaccines, psychotropic drugs, and opioids; whereon those who
Were once free could no longer distinguish between lies and truth,

Journalism and propaganda, fantasy and reality, day and night. And
Satan looked down upon this once proud people; he saw they were
In ruins, and he knew that it was good. The once impregnable mind
Had met its dissolution, the kiss of death rang out from gelid cliffs,
And reason drowned thereon, unto the monstrous throne of tyranny.

David Penner’s articles on politics and health care have appeared in Dissident Voice, CounterPunch, Global Research, The Saker blog, OffGuardian and KevinMD; while his poetry can be found at Dissident Voice, Mad in America, and Also a photographer, he is the author of three books of portraiture: Faces of The New Economy, Faces of Manhattan Island, and Manhattan Pairs. He can be reached at Read other articles by David.