Walking down the hall with a friend you call family. You’re talking and ranting and venting and next thing you know you stop. There’s something you said that you’ve never heard before. You say it again, a little shocked at yourself, then the horror strikes you as you realize it’s true;
“All innocents are guilty,
All guilty are innocents.”
The world is so full of itself and its drama; even your table at lunch is raving on about its absurdity-
“There was a time when Hollywood stars and politicians couldn’t be blamed for things going wrong. They couldn’t be seen as anything less than perfect. A man could get away with murder a thousand times over, but as long as he looked real good no man could touch him. And it would all just be because he was living the American Dream.
“Now is a time when Hollywood stars and politicians are blamed for everything. Global warming, why your daughter’s a whore, why your son carries a gun, why your sister’s bulimic, why you lost your job, why terrorists attacked, how Paris got stupid. God forbids that a person’s personal downfall should be their own fault. Now it’s the government at fault, and from time to time even God gets a piece of the blame. And to top it all off, the other day I even heard someone ask ‘What is the American Dream’ and where can I get it?“
There will be a time when you will walk down the hall with a friend you call family. She will be talking and ranting and venting and next thing you realize you’re not saying a thing. There will be something you once said that would stop her in mid-sentence. Something she’s never heard before. You’ll stop her and say it, and she’ll be shocked into silence. Then her eyes will grow wide when the horror hits her;
‘All innocents are guilty,
All guilty are innocents.’
You’re preaching at a table and no one wants to listen. You’re mad as hell and keep on going with 9/11. You’re mad and confused and want to know why it’s taking so damn long to find a black guy in white sand. The friend you call family slaps you on the head. For the first time you stop to listen and learn that the black man is a wealthy Son of a Gun.
It’s the next day and a friend you call family is preaching at the table during lunch and no one’s really listening. She’s mad as hell and keeps going on how a girl’s case of rape was ignored on the news. She’s angry and confused and wants to know why a girl is accused of her own raping and a terrorist is out on the loose. You slap the friend you call family on the arm. For the first time she stops to listen as you remind her something she’d forgotten.
“All innocents are guilty,
All guilty are innocents.”