We needed warming from the cold, hard facts
Unheeded warning 'bout the broken tracks
All hope is fading, and it's not coming back again
Uniting forces may be calling fast
Changing courses to some Stalin past
Melting faces through the looking glass, my friend
Something's got ahold of our feel, all right
Out of control in the appetite
We're moving into the perilous night
Amen, amen
Dumb, white, and angry with their cup half-filled
Running over people down in Charlottesville
White House fury, it's the killing side he defends
Defend the up-enders, yes, he played that tune
It ain't the ending, but it's coming soon
We're making love beneath a Sputnik moon again
White House is glowing from the Red Square light
The gates at the border being slammed down tight
We're moving into the perilous night, my friend
Something's got ahold of our feel, all right
Out of control in the appetite
We're moving into the perilous night
Amen, amen
And why's that drone looking through my window?
World keeps turning in the torch light shadow
Fourth Reich in khakis is beckoning
Both ends burning to the reckoning
Ronnie Reagan must be spinning his grave
Putin's on the rise, Ukraine's under siege
Fascism's knocking, and Trump says, "Let them in"
I'd like to tell you there'll be better days
But optimism's running low today
We're off the deep end with a lifeguard that can't swim
The Klan and the Nazis are taking up the fight
Against their own salvation in the savior's light
We're moving into the perilous night
Amen
Flags of oppression are blocking out the light
Dismantling the Greatest Generation's fight
We're moving into the perilous night
Amen
Amen
Amen
~ Patterson Hood (for Drive-By Truckers)
Well, I hope you enjoyed that little chill pill yesterday, because today, the world is turned upside down (again). Like Patterson Hood and his band, I'm mad as hell. "The Perilous Night" focuses on the conflict in Charlottesville in August in which white nationalists clashed with protesters, resulting in the death of a young woman. In restrained language, Hood offered this regarding the writing of the song: "It's hard to write anything with much finesse about what's going on because it's such a cluster-fuck. It's like writing about a bowel movement . . . " The song will be released as a limited edition 7" on December 15, with proceeds going to the Southern Poverty Law Center. Whether or not you can identify with the song's political stance, it's a rocker.
Of course, there's something new to be mad about every day now, and the early morning passage of the Senate's tax reform bill, conducted with no hearings, no bi-partisan collaboration, and no compassion, has many of us fuming. The 479-page bill was handed out just hours before the vote with at least one page filled with handwritten chicken-scratch amendments. There was no time to read, let alone study, the bill. Although optimism's running low today, the tax reform bill is not a done deal, as there has to be reconciliation between the House and Senate versions before the bill moves to the President's desk for his own chicken-scratch.
But I'd like to tell you there'll be better days. Yesterday brought the guilty plea from Michael Flynn for lying to the FBI, a lesser charge which forces Flynn to tell Mueller's team what he knows in exchange for a lighter sentence and the possible protection of his son from federal charges. In his plea, Flynn made reference to two higher-ups, and as there are only five higher-ups from Flynn's position as National Security Advisor, somebody at the top is going down. Trump Jr.? Kushner? Pence? Sessions? Or . . .
We're moving into the perilous night. I think we're already there.
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