They Have Come, The Culture Police

They have come, the Culture Police and deftly stolen our treasures. They snatched the innocent smiles off our children's faces and jammed them into boxes full of circuits and wires. From the hearts of lovers they tore the abundance of affection, enough to last a lifetime; enough to fall in love with all life. From the hands of fathers and mothers they erased the caring caresses that lay there fallow, enough for all the orphans and hungry everywhere. They shredded bonds of friendship and co-operation, replaced with promisary notes scribbled hastily on cheap toilet paper. Decency and humanity they replaced with manicured lawns and oil stained driveways. The warmth of the home they stole and left the coldness of an empty bottle and empty talk of winning. From the men they took the essence of manhood and left them the tantrums of two year old boys, and a facade of strut machismo. From the breasts of mothers they extracted the milk of nourishment, left them gaudy malls instead. They took the riot of growth off our farms and gave us bland white food, pasty and mealy and roughly handled.
Yet I have a secret. Underneath the shelter of the tallest tree, there on that hill, lies buried and protected a little box. Inside is a glimmering and a fragrance, that I kept shielded with my vacant eyes and dour face. In that box is a seed. In that seed is enough culture to bring back joyful life to all the world.