Dec 11, 2007
We sit in our days doing
whatever it is we all do and busy ourselves with this and that and
time just slides by. We get a little slower and a little
thicker and a little grayer. Our friends get busy with
families and careers and whatever friends get busy with. Big
moments thunder in and thunder out. We mark the years by
songs or where we were or the deaths of famous people. We
fight for a cause or see no cause for a fight and year after year
some event pounds into our memory and drives us further and further
down the road from where we started our lives. And then in a
moment of clarity the chaos recedes and we finally understand
something that happened years ago or something that someone said or
a mistake we made or a point where everything changed.
I am so worried that we
are, the world, all of us, at one of those points where everything
changes. Either we rise to the occasion or our failure will
irrevocably alter the course of human events for generations.
For all the greatness of man, we are ever ready for failure
and total collapse. We're tearing each other apart over whose
bearded maker is the best bearded maker or what love is or who can
squat on what bit of dirt and with the consequences we can bring to
bear conflict is unequivocally unacceptable and yet we
It's like we're on a
collision course with some horrid fate we are programmed to drive
straight into and no one is calling madness what it is; no one is
calling for an end to it all. Where is our conscience?
The ends now justify the means, but no one really wants there
to be an end. This cycle of madness is the product of itself
and there's no end in sight. What in the holy hell is the
matter with the world? When did it become more important to
have power than to have the truth? When did being polite
become more important that being right? How did we let this
all go so far? Is it the TV? Was Howard Beale right
over 30 years ago?
I grew up under the
impression that the world was basically a good place, getting
better. I figured that my level of happiness was a starting
point from which things got better; for me and for all people.
But now so many years later I feel that picture is tattered
and torn and the best of my optimism can barely wrestle
my cynicism to a standstill. I see horror after horror
and I wonder how in Christ's name people can allow it. And
then I see people aren't, they're running from it. Some run
into pretty dreams of how the world is or what things mean and
others just try to carve out a little sanctuary in the shit storm,
but who's fighting the good fight. It's not the politicians.
They're like a microcosm for the greater battle and
they're barely able to win against themselves so how are they
supposed to fight and win for all of us?
So, I'm sitting here
and thinking. Yesterday I was 10 years old and riding my
bike, today I'm in my 30s teaching English and making investments,
but have I done anything that mattered? Am I in the fight?
Will I be bald and wrinkled and regretful or one of a great
generation? Am I running or standing my ground? Am I
just carving out a little place for myself or am I trying to hold
the line? Honestly, I don't know.
I'm mad as hell and
I don't give a good god damn what the reasons are. I
want to make a difference. I want it to matter when someone
dies somewhere, and not just to their family but to all of us.
The deaths worldwide from calamity, strife and war are now as
meaningless as sports scores and just as quickly forgotten.
The self-destruction of pop stars is as important to most
Americans as the implosion of our democracy.
Hell in handbasket, tickets for
all, check your conscience at the door and leave your morales
behind. Next stop, the future.