This appears in a pre-2010 issue
of cc&d magazine.
Saddle-stitched issues are no longer
printed, but you can requesting it
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A House divided will not survive or thrive, will not create or procreate. A House divided self-destructs, disintegrates, dissolves, disappears like snowflakes wafting through the fog and misty air, drifting down the Tower of Babel, vanishing without fear or premonition, passing through the whirling whiteness into darkness.
Well, that’s the way it is-the flow of politics rushing through giant waves of destruction. That’s the sin. For a House divided is not a glorious home-just an ancient tomb dissolving in the flood outside Noah’s Ark, covered with the blood of chaos and confusion, vanishing in the dark. And that’s a sin.
A House divided is a shrinking, shriveled schizophrenic House, a disconnected psyche, a snowstorm sweeping across the political landscape, a million discordant voices shrieking in the Waste Land-cutting swaths of division. And that’s a sin.
A House divided cannot inspire or unite, can’t reveal the light ensconced in the darkness. Buried in the deep snow, within a furious fog, it is a kingdom of lost words, on a secret blog, discovered serendipitously by a search engine but discarded by choice-not by chance.
A House divided must vanish unless unity is restored. But now, we weep on this elongated night of loss, listening to the endless ululations and deafening cacophony, searching for clarity, perhaps, in a vast silence that surrounds us. And we wait. A House divided must vanish. Still, we wait. In the distance, one voice longs to speak.
