Beware the Tics

 

 

Nah, I don’t mean on animals

That provide a safe haven,

They are spelt differently,

Come on, have you forgotten?

 

So, what do you mean?

I am hearing you ask,

Well, bear with me a while

While I finish the task.

 

Not only animals as you know

But words carry tics,

Quite a few as I can recall

But for now, four will fit.

 

Yes, out of some 223 words

I’ll only choose four,

For the purpose of this discourse

I will need no more.

 

Let me say from the outset

They all relate to people,

You and I are among the four-

Sorry to burst your bubble.

 

I will start with the one

That says who I have become,

A skeptic for sure I now am

And I am not making fun.

 

I find it difficult to believe

Much of what I hear,

Most is intentional propaganda

And this I truly fear.

 

News and views went together

Now they are so unrelated

That I sometimes wonder

If the truth is now outdated.

That’s why I am now a skeptic

Not that I want to be

But when I listen to the news

The truth I cannot see.

 

Two sides in a given matter:

Which is right I cannot tell,

If I were to be tested on the truth

I wouldn’t do very well.

 

Skeptics, as far as I can see,

Are the least of these four tics,

The second I now give to you

Which for me is a critic.

 

 

 

Just like the skeptics today

Critics are on the increase,

These know so little about everything

But they talk will never cease.

 

Theirs is always another view

Different from any before

And they are extremely innovative

In giving one view more.

 

They even criticize their view

Yes, their own view they criticize

If an opposer carries the same,

They will feign surprise.

 

In the eyes of too many critics

A solution is never to be found

Since critics tend mostly to look in

And seldom look around.

 

I have a problem deciding

Which of the next two is worse

But I have unilaterally decided

To deal with a lunatic first.

 

 

Lunatics are mad people!

Nothing more and nothing less,

They ebb and flow like the sea

And never are at rest.

 

The moon controls the tides,

At least, that’s what I was told

But being by my new nature a skeptic,

To this I tenuously hold.

 

So lunar, looney, lunatic,

All words that are related

Indicating the magnitude of insanity

In which this era is inundated.

 

Finally, the last of the tics

Is none other than heretic,

This tic is extremely closely related

To its predecessor, lunatic.

 

 

Heretics evade the truth

And they do this at all costs,

Their proselytizing is foremost

As their recruit the lost.

 

The Pharisees were exposed

And censured by Jesus Christ

Whose righteousness they rejected

Feeling theirs would suffice.

 

Heretics are all around us

Trying to obscure the truth

And there are many in the church

That are of living proof.

 

Yes, skeptics and critics,

Lunatics and heretics!

These are in many ways related,

Watch out for their tricks!

 

Stewart Russell © November 11, 2023