Today, on my daily walk to the office, I was thinking about something; I’m afraid I don’t recall what … However, I vividly recall how what I thought lead to think about hope; it must have been something that inspired hope, was hopeful, at least to me. As soon as I materialized the word hope in my mind, something awful happened: It did echo in Washington DC. Uh?
It took me a few seconds to realize it. Where did I, we all, recently, get to constantly hear this word? The answer is obvious. Should it be that obvious?
Hope has a t-shirt, a poster, a font, a sticker, an artist. It echoes in Washington DC as a key word of an ingenious marketing strategy for a presidential campaign. Think about it for a second: Hope abused for … politics! I’m trying to convince myself this is hilarious though I’m afraid it might more likely be deeply troubling.
Somehow it feels like hope has been stolen, imprisoned behind iron bars in the cellar of a white house built by black slaves; the echo, its cry of fear to be on death row. No, it won’t die. It never will. Right now I’m just wondering whether its liberty will one day mark the free fall decline of its kidnapper.
Hope, defrauded, devalued?
On a side note, U.S. tells Poland it could host new interceptors.
(Yes, I’m increasingly skeptical.)