*I read several articles on major news networks' websites concerning Monday's rallies, and the word "illegal" didn't appear until about 3/4 of the way through the articles. Politcal correctness is truly nauseating.
So is cracking down on illegal immigration--jailing illegal immigrants or at least sending them back to their native country--contradictory to God's command to love one another? Perhaps I'm a bit too calloused concerning the matter. Certainly I feel sympathy for people who receive little if any governmental care and desire a better life, but I don't think it's justifiable to do so illegally. It's incredibly unjust for people who have immigrated to our country legally--it reminds me a bit of people who cut in line, only a lot worse.
As for Monday's rallies, the gist of the rallies was "we deserve rights because we help the economy." Although illegal immigrants do, in fact, provide cheap labor and help perpetuate some portion of the economy, they also burden health care and education systems (and both systems have ample problems without illegal immigrants) and don't pay taxes. Furthermore, how can you demand the rights of a citizen if you aren't a legal citizen? (I suppose you can when you drive the issue on emotion and sweep logic and legality out of the way.) I also have a hard time mustering a pro-amnesty attitude when the rallies were rife with foreign flags, skewing the proverbial "melting pot" notion.
Of course, rather than a lot of congressional headbutting over border control, guest worker programs, etc., the easiest solution would be to make Mexico our 51st state or just storm down there with a good old -fashioned invasion.
Yes, I'm kidding.
Men at forty
Learn to close softly
The doors to rooms they will not be
Coming back to.
At rest on a stair landing,
They feel it
Moving beneath them now like the deck of a ship,
Though the swell is gentle.
And deep in mirrors
The face of the boy as he practices tying
His father's tie there in secret
And the face of that father,
Still warm with the mystery of lather.
They are more fathers than sons themselves now.
Something is filling them, something
That is like the twilight sound
Of the crickets, immense,
Filling the woods at the foot of the slope
Behind their mortgaged houses.