Friday, April 26, 2013

The Last Progressive

The room was faintly lit, and the onlookers sat quietly, helplessly watching, as doctors and nurses shuttled in and out, stunned looks on their faces.  Silence hung in the room like an invisible cloak, as they watched the final chapter in an American nightmare draw to a close.  History would record this day, not in anger, but in humility and compassion.  

The last progressive in the world lay before them, dying.

No effort had been spared to make his final days as comfortable as possible, and there was no hint of irony or rancor amongst the people watching.   Compassion, decency, and respect for human dignity had long since returned to the country.  But this was indeed a somber occasion. We had learned how easily we might destroy ourselves if we ever again allowed ourselves to be misled.

 Almost half the room was occupied by the latest, most technologically advanced monitoring equipment available, and all was monitored by a team of highly trained specialists constantly, as the days wore on.  This man would not be allowed to suffer.  Scripps Institute had flown in a state of the art neurological device, a device so sensitive it could detect the presence of a flashlight battery from 200 meters away.  It was calibrated in nano volts, and was originally developed to monitor brain waves in sea cucumbers. It was the only device on earth that could detect the brain output of progressives.  It had been developed years before, before Obamacare had shut down all R&D, before the Obama years, known by everyone as "The Great Debacle".  

Decades had passed, and much had been accomplished.  Once again, children were taught the meaning of Freedom, and they learned of the country's history, and were taught to understand how close we had come to losing our Liberty.  People had come to understand anew how fragile was the concept of Freedom.  The return of true academic standards had begun to produce graduates who led the world in a renaissance of human endeavor.  "The EPA" and "The Fed" were terms only known to historians, and  'smart cars' and Fiskers sat rusting in museums across the country.  The UN had long ago ceased to exist.  The concept of 'political correctness', understood by all for it's insidious and deceitful intentions, was remembered, in a curious combination of amusement and sadness.  Everyone back then had quietly allowed the left to wield it, not seeing it for the weapon it was until it was almost too late.  An awareness of personal responsibility, and the humility that comes with simple faith, had returned.  

The man who lay before them had not stirred for days, and, with the aid of breathing devices, slept peacefully.  Suddenly there was a faint murmur in the room, as the man began to stir.  The doctors were summoned, and as all watched, breathlessly, the man opened his eyes.  He lay there for a moment, looking into the darkness, and began to struggle weakly.  "He's trying to speak" someone said, and the doctors removed the breathing apparatus.  He lay there for a moment, and suddenly, in a clear voice,  reminiscent of the constant refrain heard from the left so many years ago, (as here), he spoke his final words….


An era had passed.  No one spoke for several seconds.  The people sat silently with their private thoughts for a moment, then, wordlessly, began to file from the room.


  1. I was actually applauding when I was reading this. I have dreamed this in another type of format. It was me as an old man walking through a huge graveyard with my Great-Grandchildren. I was going to see my fathers grave and show them where he was buried so they might remember to take their kids some day and say hello to the family of the past. As I was walking through I noticed stones with the names of so many friends from the past. Friends killed in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan were laid to rest in large rows seemingly in a weird and twisted order. After walking for what seemed like miles in this graveyard I notice a few graves with similar names. They were the names of my friends sons and family members who were killed defending a Republic. I can remember looking up further down the rows of stones that seemed to stretch for hundreds of miles through fields and over hills with no end in sight.

  2. That was one of the most beautiful, stirring, and sad things I've read in a long time. COOKIES to springeraz. (How do we get there from here, huh?)