Remember The White

Everything is broken, in the sea, on the land, in the air, and we who go about proclaiming our knowledge; we are the most profoundly broken of all. The best of us, with the best of intensions, hit so wide of the mark, are so blind to the infinite amount of things we do not know existing outside the reach of our puny grasp, we fail to judge rightly the inadequacy of our assumptions, refuse to understand the infinite cannot by us be divided into its components, studied under a microscope, and figured out.
This is the failure of both the Red and the Blue factions. The limitations of their private vision elude them obscuring the wisdom of the other and the foolishness of the self. They cannot hear the other not because they are deaf, but because of the belief there is nothing to learn.
The dragons of the Black are not hindered by this dilemma. The single mindedness of their devotion concerns itself only superficially, if at all, with the discussion of right or wrong. The bottom line is always the bottom line. All things must come under subjection to it. Mercy is only a viable option if it serves the ultimate goal of accumulation.
There is a longing for the White to come forth, to speak a new hope into the realm of the dispossessed beginning to occupy the public squares; the cobbled together meeting places, clamoring inarticulately for a better way. The White has been silent for too long. Its voice is barely remembered. It is like a word on the tip of the tongue one fails to grasp. Then, when one least expects, it suddenly burst forth, and White is remembered and believed. This is the only thing the Black fears.
Let this be the cry; Remember the White.