To the Generation Past

November 10, 2008

Here it is, oh elders. Your childhood, your youth. What did you buy with it? You spoke of peace, you spoke of love. You broke walls and you sang songs. You saw the world and its vice and sought to tear it apart. You saw the fissure and sought to mend it. You hoped to replace the sword with the plowshare.

A beautiful dream, oh elders. You sang of peace and you sang of change. You expanded your hearts and you expanded your minds. You read and you wrote. You flailed in the dark for something -- anything to replace the sterile grime into which you were born.

I won't ask you whether the machine was destroyed, because that question's answer is far too depressing to express. But I will ask you whether you did your part, if not to shrink it, then at least to cast some light on it. I can ask you if you helped bring us closer to the Divine but we were closer in the past and lies are spreading faster than truth. You gave us, in those years, so many powerful memories; but how quickly we forget the horrors of war and the terror of a fearful populace. How quickly we flock back to the wolves.

Not all for nought, oh generation. You have not toiled in vein. We must forgive ourselves for being quick to lapse, as overcoming our collective inertia is hard. It is even more to your credit, then, that you were able to instill in us a sense of equality and liberty which has not as easily washed off. Have we at last completed the journey? No, but we have not reverted; we press on.

If your legacy be found in how we embrace questions, better to ask than to hope. If your legacy be found in a dream, may we not awaken into a static world. If your legacy be found in music, know that it has never been the same, it has never been as good. If your legacy be found in rights, then behold.