"War,war, war!
I get so sick of war talk I could scream!
...maybe there isn't going to be any war!"
Some of today's CINOs* seem to love war. Well, maybe "love" isn't the right word." "Lust after" might be better. To them, many "wars" are justified: the "war" with Satan for instance, the "war" against terrorism, the "war" on drugs. But as with all things lust-worthy, an urge to war can become too intoxicating to contain itself. The concept of battle seeps into everything and militarism becomes sanctified. Tommorrow marks the 148th anniversary of the lyrics for The Battle Hymn of the Republic:
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord:
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword:
His truth is marching on.
I have seen Him in the watch- fires of a hundred circling camps,
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps:
His day is marching on.
I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel:
"As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal;
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with His heel,
Since God is marching on."
He has sounded for the the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment-seat:
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on.
In the beauty of the Lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom tha transfigures you and me:
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on.
He is coming like the glory of th morning on the wave,
He is Wisdom to the mighty, He is Succor to the brave,
So the world shall be His footstool, and the soul of Time His slave,
Our God is marching on.
War words all.
MarkTwain wrote a marvelous parody of the lyrics. When you read the following two verses, think of St. Halliburton (first) or any one of our esteemed televangelists (second):
In a sordid slime harmonious Greed was born in yonder ditch,
With a longing in his bosom - and for other's goods an itch.
As Christ died to make men holy, let men die to make us rich -
Our god is marching on.
I have read his bandit gospel writ in burnished rows of steel:
"As ye deal with my pretensions, so with you my wrath shall deal;
Let the faithless son of Freedom crush the patriot with his heel;
Lo, Greed is marching on!"
And some CINOs have taken to indoctrinating in military/war terminology: a group of born-again teenagers call their group "Battle Cry!"
They'll never make swords into ploughshares that's for sure.
*Christian In Name Only