#7

My sandals protect my feet from the blistering sidewalk. The sun shines bright under an azure sky. Sweat beads begin to trickle down my face. The day just started and I’ve already drank a liter of water. But I have to be here. This is my call – this is what I must do to sleep at night.

My name is Enoch and I'm a sidewalk prophet. I bet you haven’t seen a sidewalk prophet in a long time. Their presence faded during the early millennium. We all thought that the advent of the new millennium would trigger the Y2K bug, collapsing the financial system which would then return us to the stone age. It was a harbinger of doom. Fortunately for you and me it never happened; we’re still alive and the world is a better place. Well, some of us think so.

In my hands is a sign board that states in bold lettering, Repent: The End is Near! I receive glares from strangers who pass me that say in decoded expression, “Dude, you had your chance. You were wrong; get off the street.” But I don’t do this for myself. I know that I have to give them a chance. I know that I have to state the truth.

The truth . . .

Then it hits me. I run into my car and grab The Inquirer. I hold up the front page so everyone could see in full sight the Truth! We live in a cruel and selfish world; a world where old white men receive hundreds of millions of dollars in benefits from corporation that brainwash mindless drones into purchasing on credit. We live in a world where politicians use money siphoned from fertilizer funds to use in their campaign. (I’m not sure about the validity of that last claim). This is the world we live in! Look at today’s headline!

“Black in White House.” Huh? (Real Philippine headline) “Change has come to America – Obama.” That wasn’t a headline I was expecting.

I look at my sign board, then back at the newspaper. It doesn’t matter: electing one person won’t create the change in social values, the cultural norms, the greed and ethnocentricity of a nation. That’s just one victory in a battle. We’re still fighting a war.

I glance up and see a caravan of cars. Six cars full of kids roll by. The kids are staring at me. They stick out their tongues at me. Then I think about the future and the leaders we are cultivating in our schools.

They stop a few blocks away at the science museum. I go back to my post and hold up my sign. The End is Near!

[Happy Birthday Oh-Sister-Of-Mine! You're Moby; You're Hose]