“. . . There’s a battle outside and it’s ragin’,
it’ll soon shake your windows and rattle your walls, For the Times they are a’Changin . . . ”
. . . wrote Blind Boy Grunt sometime in Autumn sixtie three, and it seems that the timez are a’changin once more, and as this time comes to pass, how soon wilitt bee that they change anew? For as long the sun sets, everything changes and nothing stands still.
Our times today belong to those who shout the loudest, for liberté, égalité et solidarité, words and ideas no-one can argue against, however the meaning and objectivity these sentiments profess have moved to encompass that of anything the warriors of justice pretend it to mean.
Their perception of freedom is anything goes so long as we say.
They own the idea of equality.
Solidarity is; FUCK YOU . . .
. . . and this is the basis of bliss?
The dismal imaginary place of yesteryear made flesh in the now is the goal of those who feel oppressed; the white male shall be slaughtered as the sperm whale is saved, the indigenous are obliged to feel misplaced as the alien arrives, the indoctrination of young will cease until we have our day! One (supposedly) dictatorial regime will fall only to be replaced by another more grim.
* * *
Three years to go and the wait continues for the one to sing the battle hymn of the new revolution, and the generation that worshipped at the altar of F.U.N.N. will be replaced by the one that finds offence in everything, helped by the atomised young whose distorted views, fuel the fires of separation that progressives profess to detest.
“ . . . The line it is drawn, the curse it is cast, The slow one now will later be fast, as the present now will later be past, The Order is rapidly fadin’. And the first one now will later be last,
For the Times they are a’Changin’ . . . “