Ice Cream Soda, Ginger Ale Pop…Pop…Pop…

It’s no secret that in Chicago’s predominately black South Side many families fear for their lives, if they were to venture out for so little a pleasure as a simple ice cream soda at the local store. I dare say there are other suburbs of America with the same problems. “Say it ain’t so, Joe,” won’t address the problem. In fact, recently I’ve read where if we were to tally the killings of humans using just guns, it would be equal to or greater than the weapons of mass destruction.

For a country that places “In God We Trust” on our coinage and men on the moon, we certainly ought to be able to figure out a way to control gangs and illegal drugs in our society. The “pop” from the jingle that is frequently said from girls rope jumping of “Ice cream soda, ginger ale pop,” takes on a “Pop Art” (like in bang, bang, I shot you dead) connotation in today’s vernacular.

It’s unfortunate that illegal drugs in American society are poisoning mostly the downtrodden folks, but the wealthy share their portion of the take also. Even if one were to barricade themselves up in a locked room, a stray bullet from a drive-by has the potential to take an innocent life, and often does.

I’m afraid that the godly protection that seemingly was afforded America in the past is being eroded by the continued passiveness and liberalization of America–especially directed toward our protector from the spiritual realm. The more we take God out of the equation of humanity, the less human we become!