An Ode to Bullshittery. NOT.

Featured image: John William Waterhouse, The Soul of the Rose

How happy is the blameless hippie's lot!
Ignoring things that I cannot.
Maybe they are all born with B+ flowing through their veins
And decide to make it the motto of their life.
Maybe — or rather, probably — not.

"The world suffers because everyone is selfish.
All our problems would end if we stop thinking only about ourselves."
"Honey, please, go smoke your pot
And let the battle be fought
By the un-stoned lot."

"Imagine there's no countries.
It isn't hard to do.
Nothing to kill or die for,
And no religion, too.
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace... You..."
"Yeah, sure, I'll imagine it.
Imagining is the only thing that can be done with that song, anyway;
It sure as hell can't be turned into reality."

Your flower-powered minds may be able to turn a blind eye towards it,
But I can't not see all the rot...
There's civil war in Syria,
In Turkey, this New Year's Eve, a dozen people were shot,
There's a six-year-old begging on an empty stomach at Nal Stop, not a couple miles from where I'm sitting, as I type this.
And you are telling me that ending human selfishness will solve all our problems?
Get real, could you not?

I'm sorry to break it to you, Meadow, or Rainbow, or whatever your name is,
But the damage done is far beyond that now.
So put down that joint, drink a coffee, if you will,
Try to breathe life into what used to be the logical part of your brain
And then try...
Try with all that you've got
To come up with solutions that will actually solve the world's problems —
Ones that fit into the realm of reality —
Instead of dishing out the hippie bullshittery which has you besot.

Thanks.