There's Hope For Todayਨਮੂਨਾ

The synthetic god of American pluralism watches over a decaying culture with unseeing eyes.

Fashioned from the grief and shock of crashing towers, he now lists to the left, irrelevant, and forgotten.

He never stood a chance, this synthetic god assembled for the sake of unity. He is as dead as Baal and Dagon of old. He is a meaningless sentiment shared by the godless clerics of godless religions. He is a silent god created in committee. He does not offend, he does not demand, he does not judge, he does not speak, he does not love, he does not intervene, and he does not redeem. His umbrella is large enough to make room for Buddha, Mohammed, and forty million Hindu gods. Because he embraces all things, he stands for nothing.

He is a cosmic contradiction; a compendium of confusion. He is popular among philosophers, convenient for politicians, the darling of new-agers, and the slave of human wisdom. He is one man’s higher power, another’s guiding principle, another’s spiritual inner journey, and yet another’s quick remedy for a throbbing conscience.

What shall become of the people who follow this synthetic god, but an ever-creeping darkness followed by eternal night?