March 14, 2022 - MASTERS OF WAR

MASTERS OF WAR
This  Saturday in the feast of St. Joseph…it is observed in Sicily as a day of hope a...

This  Saturday in the feast of St. Joseph…it is observed in Sicily as a day of hope and giving. We had many St. Joseph tables at our house on East Avenue and my mother is pictured in this photo. She was our inspiration for having a St. Joseph table. Food was prepared for a week and presented in a beautiful table and then give it away to everyone who attended.

Thursday night my daughter Rose and her husband Jose hosted a nice dinner for my in-laws Henry an...

Thursday night my daughter Rose and her husband Jose hosted a nice dinner for my in-laws Henry and Barbara, Julie and I and our daughter Grace. Shepherd’s pie for St. Patrick’s Day was on the menu.

Even though spring is on the horizon we have are still in the grips of a cold, snowy winter.

Even though spring is on the horizon we have are still in the grips of a cold, snowy winter.

MASTERS OF WAR

March 14th, 2022

Good morning Folks,

   Sadly the people of the world are once again glued to their television sets watching another war in living color. It is brought to you by all major networks, complete with commercial interruptions. I was never a big fan of war, I did my best to avoid it. In fact I participated in a few events that I’m sure identified me as an ‘undesirable". But I have some observations that I’m going to try to communicate about the current situation in the Ukraine and I write these words with a flood of tears in my eyes. It is truly tragic…any bit of this…to see it happen. The outrage and the generosity that the world is extending towards the people in Ukraine is commendable but it makes me wonder. Where was the outrage and generosity in Africa? In Rwanda, in Sudan, in the Congo? What about Lebanon, Yemen and Syria? What about all of the innocent bystanders who were displaced in our war against Iraq, the Assyrians who were driven from their land….and then 20 years in Afghanistan. I am supposedly a "post-war" baby, but war has been going on my entire life. Additionally, where was the outrage and concern for the people who are being driven from their land by drug cartels, corruption, violence and poverty who appear at our Southern border only to be herded like cattle by men on horses. Why is  there no empathy and compassion when tragedy involves people of color? It is a dark time and very tenuous. My only response has been to listen to the words of Bob Dylan written 60 years ago in response to the Nuclear Arms race of the 60s. Take the time to read every word and weep.

Sincerely 

John Bernunzio 

THE MASTERS OF WAR
Come you masters of war
You that build the big guns
You that build the death planes
You that build all the bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks

You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly

Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain

You fasten all the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you sit back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion
While the young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud

You've thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain't worth the blood
That runs in your veins

How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I'm young
You might say I'm unlearned
But there's one thing I know
Though I'm younger than you
That even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do

Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good?
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could?
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul

And I hope that you die
And your death will come soon
I'll follow your casket
By the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand over your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead

Bob Dylan 1962