Progressives, it’s time for a tough talk.
(Been delayed a long time now, you guys.)
We’re afraid you’ve become, what you call us –
Yes, it’s hard to conclude otherwise.
“All those who oppose us are Nazis!”,
Chant your self-righteous thugs, in the street.
Look down towards your toes, for a moment:
The jackboots are on your own feet.
In pursuit of your ultimate vision,
You’ve dismissed ethics (quaint and old-fashioned)
And replaced civil discourse and public debate
With rhetoric wild and impassioned.
You see only a race, not a person,
And you penalize people thereby.
Trayvon Martin, he was your Horst Wessell –
And when facts don’t support you, you lie.
You riot to quell opposition,
You slant the reporting of news.
Your bogeyman seems to be Russia;
You’re unsympathetic to Jews.
Rural churches can serve you as Reichstags,
When you must swiftly kindle support –
And infants inconvenient to you
Are “subhumans” you blithely abort.
You meet dissent with intimidation,
And expect us to grovel or cower –
While all dangers, real or imagined,
Are excuses to centralize power.
Yes, the diagnosis is unpleasant,
But these symptoms are hard to mistake,
And perhaps we’ve detected it early enough…
I sure hope so, for all of our sakes.