1968

Today's Martin Luther King jr Day.

To me, it's a reminder of a year that started out with so much promise and hope, following the summer of love. That the first steps towards true American greatness, and a hope for reconciliation within our society, were dashed by the assassinations of both MJK and RFK. Those events were a rare and unambiguous intimation of the dark forces that invisibly domineer our lives.

By 1969, even though our collective and most adventurous spirit had seen it's finest moment, and we had landed a man on the moon, it was all over. The fires had been lit to flame two decades of violence and terrorism around the world.

If I weren't a cynical man, I'd allow myself to think about how the world could have been different if both MLK and RJK had survived and succeeded. However, cynicism doesn't come from skepticism; it comes from romanticism, disappointment and from a broken heart.

If there is hope that we can collectively save ourselves before we turn the planet into one giant cinder, it's because there are people like this who haven't given up hope: