Death of Idealism

I remember when I had hope. I remember when I cared. I remember when I tried to make a difference. When I saw the futility, I'm not sure. It was in 2004 when a hundred puzzle pieces came together and I suddenly could see what I never saw before -- the whole picture of how the world works. How the power structure manipulates the government. How religion is used to herd the masses. How words, communication, and propaganda are used to mold unquestioning puppets.

So, dear elite WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT? You've taken everything, and you give the people just enough breadcrumbs to keep them from rioting in the streets.

You squeeze dry the environment, and when anyone dares to question you scream JOBS as the saliva drools down your face. You hire information jammers to throw doubt and questions into the global warming debate. Yes, Barney Foofoo at the community state college was paid millions by Big Oil to say global warming is a myth. Let's all believe Barney Foofoo.

Let's never question our religion, and when someone does let's call them little back-slidden heathens. Let's have a prayer rally in Texas -- we already know that's where God lives. Yes, God is punishing America because we gave gays rights and we murdered trillions of babies (i.e. the Supreme Court felt it an invasion of personal privacy to force desperate women to have their unwanted child -- hell, let's spin that one baby. Let's use this as a "talking point" to energize the foot soldiers for corporate America! Yeah!)

Let's gather up all those Muslims, gays, and immigrants, and put them in a rocket ship and shoot them to the moon. Let's not try to figure out why God gave those Muslims so much oil. Let's just pray our brains out, even though any good thing or bad thing that happens is only chance. But if you spin it enough it becomes a miracle. And, besides, there is a picture of Jesus in my French toast, not to mention that cloud shape of God, and then there was that tree in Conyers, GA.

So, at what point did I snap? After all, the world is perfectly sane. After all, I see my elected leaders spend weeks fighting like dogs over moving ONE DECK CHAIR on the Titanic. They agreed to move that deck chair, well, next to the rail, and now they are boasting about how great they are. Guys, guys, guys, I'm sorry but it's too late. I'm still paying for Father Reagan's deficit budgets, and I'm still waiting for His trickle down economics to bring me wealth, and, well, it hasn't hit me yet. Oh, and by the way, I suggest that every highway, airport, and government building named Ronald Reagan be renamed Che Guevara. I just think it has a better ring.

Easter Island is a mecca. The Holocaust didn't happen. The 9/11 thing was an inside job. And President Obama is a Muslim born in Kenya, or is it Indonesia? Just depends on what the Fox News guy had for breakfast.

I can't believe I'd give up all my precious ideals, throw my hands up, and say, "Okay, folks, tried to warn you."

But, Goose, you are no prophet. You are just a guy that is not fitting into the dominant culture. Everyone knows if you touch the pants of a Tea Party officer your warts will instantly heal. Why are you questioning that, Goose? Shall we have the Department of Homeland Security send you to waterboard school? Maybe one of the those friendly countries like Morocco where they torture in exchange for port privileges and a bag of money?

There are 7 billion ants running around in 7 billion little directions. As the Somalians starve, yet again, and as the dictator of Syria picks out a new suit, and as the Israelis tell us they are noble and as the Palestinians tells they are noble, and as Italy and Spain beg for money from the European Union, well our little brains get overloaded and fried. Or maybe it's all the video games and fast food? Or maybe all that reality TV and pop culture. Or maybe it's the fear of questioning the righteousness of Rupert Murdoch and all those Godly mega church pastors in Texas.

So, I slide, slide, still wondering when the asteroid is going hit us or when the Seven Horsemen are going to ride through my backyard, followed by the Pentecostals, and seeing Jim Morrison and Jimi Hendrix resurrected. I mean, finally, what took so long? And to think that drugs can mess you up -- they just put you down for a while.

And, if you think I'm blabbering, try watching one of those Sunday morning political shows, or to see some serious blabber, go to a "conservative style" Baptist church, where the pastor screams, "If you die in a car wreck on the way home today, do you know where you're going?" Hmmm, fertilizer for a few surrounding plants, maybe? I know, not a lot of pizzazz with that response, so let's steal a religion from the ancient Egyptians and make people feel guilty if they don't follow it. Yeah, I know.

So, it was on this cold, winter day, when the leaves were blowing around, and I just stood there watching this plastic bag, whipping around like in the movie American Beauty. Yeah, that's when I lost my idealism because people are producing way too much plastic, and it's going to take 500 years to rot, and all the while it's going to be letting out hot methane, which will cook the world, and all the billions of people will become billions of bubbles.

And it was then, just then at that moment, that I lost my idealism. I stopped fighting. I stopped caring. I decided to just step back and watch this human freak show and let it end, the way that I knew all along, way deep down, how it WOULD end.

To my children, I am so, so sorry. To my pets, I am so, so sorry. To the cat I ran over in 1980, I am so VERY sorry. To the beautiful planet that I have had the honor of living on, I am so, so, sorry. I really did try for a while. I really, really did.

Sincerely,

The Goose