Friday, November 26, 2010

On American Exceptionalism.

Yes, the truth shall set you free and to tell the bloody tale you have to start with Caan who slew Able. If there were not enough Ables around to call Caan the killer, that is just how the game was played for countless bloody generations.

If Indians succeeded in slaying enough Caanan killers, then history would be different indeed.

Look anywhere; Antarctica possibly would never have been different. Countless wastes of human potential to live in peace. Not until Rome, or an America did the rest of the world reach anything approaching fulfillment of humanist potential expressed through peaceful means happen.
It seems now we contemplate the apparent extinction of peace by systems and push-button technology as protector worthlessly pursuing the end of convenience while wasting even more human potential on incredibly useless things.
There are those who still hold that violence does not solve anything. But they never saw it as Tamerlane saw it.

Tamerlane held that violence solved everything. Histories best chance to prove him wrong has just slipped into irrelevancy. It is hard to defeat this fallacy if expressed with extreme prejudice for violence. The difference to us as a people is we hold to the myth of American Exceptionalism because of our position in relation to something even more worthy, that we somehow make the difference in this viscious world meaningful because of our principles and our values. We actually care for those who have lost their way by right of the essential goodness of finding ourselves blessed to be so blessed. Someone must have done the blessing no matter who you refer to in relation to having just clawed our way out of the abattoir of bloody nations. It seems impossible for us to be mean spirited because we would rather sigh and shrug our shoulders in a coy and petulant way about someone having a bitter feeling of life having been lived 'too hard.' Where can be our christian compassion while we plod our way to hell, it seems. Perhaps some fallacies can be left intact for a time before we slip silently further down the whirlpool of the greatest kleptocracy ever toward our own self obsessed destruction with tribalism and -shudder - horrid, (maybe turgid is a better word?) Nationalism.
My lifetime has seen the destruction of damn near everything else built on principles and responsibility. I want to see a return to honors for those who truly deserve it. Truth may soon after, or take a more glacial sweet time to one day take hold again.
One should fear the destruction of a myth, for they are ideas that take hold of mens souls. And genocidal campaigns against them to wipe them out.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

I Hate Like Hell To Say It But Tomorrow Is Today.

Tomorrow is today. The revolution that is the election of our representatives has just now taken the expressed will of the people and those results will demonstrate the health of our nation. What will be the number of seats for the minority party bringing with them the all important committee chairmanships and power on the hill that all who have voted hoped for and worked so hard to produce? We do this so that we don't have to every thirty years or so put blood in the streets. Or, so one would at least hope the vital signs are sufficient that some attempt to threaten the power that threatens us at least be attempted, a hard head or two here or there can't be so bad. I think that they aren't too intimidated by us. I think they probably will just roll over and hit snooze for another year and nine months. But oh, what a hell of a year and nine it will be.

But you will turn on the TV tomorrow, today and see blood running in the streets of San Fransicko over winning the World Series. The people riot, but in a nice way. Not to express revulsion over the lack of basic liberties or, over the insane power grab of a few incompetent megalomaniacs on the Hill. No. It's because they are overjoyed with boredom and hats on backwards and Tweets that demand an exposé on the real reason for the legalization of Mary Jane.

Best of luck to them. May history record they were never my countrymen. Nor, would I have identified with them anyways. They are like aliens from another world. If they could, they would regard me for a breifest of milliseconds, not with disdain but pure stoned out apathy. It could not express in perfect equipoise the sign of our times.