As I read He Is Risen, I recognized that this was not a simple satire but a summation of the times laced with uncertainty, anger, and hidden terror in the mind of a tormented dreamer. I felt a flickering hope strangled by a ugly truth hidden away scarring where it lay.
This is my take...but that is just me.
John, I could write a few words on dreams, dreams from the times that wrapped me so tight as a young man. The springs of which , over the years, have uncoiled so silently...but the horrid memories sustain their devilish eyes, burning the candle of infinity in my soul from time to time. As I dream, I confront..that soldier has never put down those arms of resistance. The fight is one I will never relinquish.
Pandora's box does open and from it spews the stinch of death through its own living eyes of the dead.