Last night there was a fire, a spark and a terrorist attack. I know, I was there, smoking a cigarette as I watched what was once the Prophet’s offered totem to their former glory was set into flames. I inhaled a smoke of my choice, as the air filled with the stench of burned ink and paper. Of hopes and dreams of legions of editors, photographers, draftsmen and journalist.
And I rejoiced.
I rejoiced my dear readers, because for the first time in the generations, in the centuries since the Prophet came into circulation, in the decades since it fell into lies and fallacies, for the first time I knew that we could once again hear the truth. That the horn and trumpet of lies have become properly muted, allowing the hallowed whisper of honesty to shine bright once more. I raised my fist and thanked the heavens that the shackles of lies were broken free from all who seek the truth in our great nation. No longer would they have to write to the expectations and agendas of pocket lined editors who only publish for their Gringotts account-ledgers Who not only accept, but encourage the fallacies that have become today’s news.
No, today as they clean away the ashes and torn parchments, is the day to start anew. We have a chance here and now to right wrongs, to wash our hands and start upon a fresh page. Today is the time- not tomorrow, not some day which we all know can never be. It is today, rise up my friends! Rise up today and take your claim on the stake that is the truth! We all have our share, and for far far too damn long we’ve accepted what was spoon-fed to us by those who held the quill.
It is time that we cut our apron strings to such obscene memories and as the smoke cleared the quill was pulled out of their decaying hands. Given to you my comrades, my friends- the quill to write a new word of truth. Your coinage returned to your hand to choose your next patron of truth.
Who will you give it to?
The memory and comfort of the lies of our decadent past? Or to the stark naked future, to these, the publishers of what must be? Do you decide today where to place your hearts and hopes?
As they clean away the rubble they will attempt to build again, but let them build honesty, let them toss out the ashes and not hold to them to reverence as already they plead of you. It was a terrorist attack, for the lies they told were that of terror. It was horrors and fears and lies that belong in those dark days. But not today! Not now.
It can be bright, it can be wonderful, but only if you lead the charge with me.
Take your knut, your sickle and gallon and place it on the tables of those brave men and women who sell this paper. Tell them today that it is time to hear the truth, as terrifying, and as new it can be. This is the news after all, and we are all adults.