I'm hearing a great deal of talk about children's safety in society from a multitude of politicians across the United States. While this may sound like a perfectly appropriate and meaningful concern for any politician, I know that nothing these people do is done with sincerity. I know that these particular politicians don't actually mean what they say, even as they watch their own children find themselves in harm's way. This filth of political lip-service rises to my ears like an audible stench, and I am done listening to the cacophony of hollow care and concern for the innocent. This is vile, and I, Iuno, Regina Deorum, sentence the words of these politicians to death.
Death to your words! Death to your empty-handed gestures of concern for your own children! Death to your cries of "wolf" as a means to distract from the true needs of your people! Death to your frightening stories of evil queens! Death to your fearmongering! Death to your falsehoods! Death to your cowardice, and death to your careers.
Look! I see your words! What a despicable sight! Your words are heading down into the depths of Hades. I see your stories and tales crafted from prejudice travelling on the boat with Charon, crossing the river Styx. These necrotic words are now part of the Underworld, where they belong and where they will remain, to no longer haunt the ears of your people or offend the ears of the Goddess of the State.
Rest assured, dear senators and representatives, your vapidness will be laid bare for everyone to see, and they will look away from you in disgust. How dare you treat the people like garbage. How dare you make a mockery of children and life itself! How dare you use words of love and God in vain! How dare you even show your faces to this public and open your rotten mouths!
Your words sap life and light from the air around you and you poison all who listen to you. Nothing is sacred to you, dear senators. Nothing is too holy for you to use for your own ends. You have lost all integrity. You have lost all connection with humanity. You worship your idols while claiming monotheism and you'll spread your legs for any extremist who'll give you a dollar.
For that is your real god, is it not? Money. Power. How thrilling it must be to watch thousands of people believe every word you say, no matter how ludicrous. How exhilarating it must be to have that much influence! And so you abuse it, because you're weak. Your intentions are small and self-serving. You have no plan other than to enrich yourselves. To exact imaginary revenge against your imaginary foes. To revel in the heaping pile of dung that is your ignorance. I consider the excrement of my holy cows to be of more value than the words of your tongues.
You call yourselves "public servants," but I cannot think of a less appropriate term for you. You do not serve any public. Far from it! You do not see the public. You do not hear the public. You do not feel the public. You do not know the public. You are snake oil salesmen of the lowest variety. Selling fake antidotes to fake problems. Spinning tales of confusion as you watch your followers flounder in fear. The abuse stops here.
And since I am Queen of the Gods, I extend my blessings unto all queens, of all manners and types. May the light of Juno protect and bless you. May the light of Juno shine brightly upon the people.
Pax vobiscum.
About the Creator
Marc Peraino
Short fiction and poetry author in Honolulu, Hawaii.
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Mastigia.
Fungi! Nebulo! Sceleris plenissimi! These are but a few Latin words that I feel best express the deep and ever-growing outrage that I, Iuno, Regina Deorum, feel for the current state of American politics and the plight of the American people. The Senate promises democracy while simultaneously disenfranchising the People by exchanging representation for money from corporations. Did I get that right? And while there are plenty of individual politicians I could read to filth, it is your bicameral system, this Democrat vs. Republican thing that you have, that I most detest. I have a special message for each party. And let me be clear from the very beginning: both of them reek like Roman toilets.
By Marc Peraino2 years ago in The Swamp
Rivers of Death
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