A Tale of Two Political Philosophies

Original Cover of Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way—in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

 

The preceding inscription from the opening section of A Tale of Two Cities’ Book the First: Recalled to Life had been going through my mind the past couple of days. The story was set in London at the time before and during the French Revolution.

The tome depicted the plight and demoralization of the French peasantry by the aristocrats of that period, which led to the bloody insurrection partaken by the revolutionaries toward the French nobility in the early years of the uprising, and comparisons thereof with the unattractive mores of the upper and lower classes in England during the same era.

Sound familiar?

Perhaps I should paraphrase my opening thesis to this essay with a more contemporary outlook:

It was the most sublime of times; it was the creepiest of times; it was the age of ravishing technology; it was the age of Social Media; it was the epoch of truth; it was the epoch of hypocrisy; it was the season of information; it was the season of fake news; it was the spring of happiness; it was the winter of despondency; we had promises before us; we had lies before us; we were all going to be great again; we were all going to Hell—in short, the period was so like the present period, that some of its loudest critics and blindsided followers insisted on being heard, for right or for left, in the satirical degree of hyperbole only.

My apologies to the great Charles Dickens for my bastardizing his work, but it seems so fitting. History repeats itself. Hopefully the next time around will be different as a result of  having learned our lessons from the past.

Time will tell. Time is on our side. Who said that?

Time is our friend, yet time can be our enemy. Time rolls by too slowly when one is a child, but passes by too quickly for seniors citizens; me as one who wishes I were young, again.

Seconds turn to minutes, to hours, to days, to weeks, to months, to years; all of which progressively speed up until their passage becomes a blur and then there’s no time left.

Live life like there is no tomorrow should become a rallying cry; yet I find myself sitting in my comfy chair, wondering: to where has all the time disappeared?

That’s my opinion. What’s yours?

Once again, I’m getting my weekly entry in under the wire. Thanks for stopping by and taking the time to read yet another diatribe and, as always, for your continued support.

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About Mike Slickster

As an early retiree with an honorary doctorate degree from the proverbial "School of Hard Knocks," this upcoming author with a lot of free time on his hands utilizes his expansive repertoire for humorous yet tragic, wildly creative writing that contains years of imaginative fantasy, pure nonsense, classic slapstick, extreme happiness and searing heartbreak; gathered by a wealth of personal experiences throughout his thrilling—sometimes mundane or unusually horrid—free-spirited, rock-'n'-roller-coaster ride around our beloved Planet Earth. Mike Slickster's illustrious quest continues, living now in Act Three of his present incarnation, quite a bit on the cutting edge of profundity and philosophical merriment as seen through his colorful characters, most notably evident in the amusing Thirty Days Across the Big Pond series, all of which can be found at Lulu.com.
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