by Kristopher on Thu Nov 17, 2011 1:40 pm
~
Yet another topic from chat are a couple of groups, the Occupy ‘whatever’ movement, and I’ll lump them together with the Anon group.
The following from Uncle Jed relates. The phrase, “you can’t kill an idea” has been mentioned, so if this concerns you, read the following. If you don’t get it, I’ll provide Further explanation at the bottom.
"Well, let's say the worst stuff you can think of really happens," I interrupt, "would that really be such a tragedy?"
The chatter stops as all eyes turn to me.
"Would it really be so bad if your world broke apart at the seams?" I ask. "Cascade failures and anarchy and all that. I could see where it might be a pretty good thing. Shake things up. Get the blood flowing."
They're exchanging glances with each other in smug bemusement; seeking an explanation for, or complicity against, the jackass making this unscheduled deviation from standard themes. [Ala chat.]
"I don't know any of you personally," I continue," but it looks like your lives are fairly predictable. You know how this storyline plays out, right? So what would be so bad if this storyline shifted abruptly to something a little more exciting?"
For better or worse, I have their attention. Henry looks happy.
"I'm just playing the devil's advocate here, thinking out loud. Correct me if I'm wrong, but your lives are pretty much," I make a gesture indicating our current setting, "this, right? I mean, you make money, raise kids, socialize, fulfill your roles, just like everyone else; basically ambling in small circles toward your own graves while pretending you're not.
Sure, you all meditate and do whatever spiritual practices, but you know that's not really going anywhere, right?"
A few pockets of resistance pop up, but I plow over them. Their indignation is as meaningless to me as the growls of little pink puppies. I'm indulging myself with a somewhat more forceful manner of communicating now, mainly for my own amusement, and their reaction at this stage is not a factor.
"This end-of-the-world thing of yours sounds so terrible," I say, "but maybe it would be your one real chance. You might not know it, but what you're fantasizing about is waking up; your own awakening. You've heard the Chinese saying that's both a blessing and a curse; May you live in interesting times. If you look at it, you'll see that we don't live in interesting times, but we could. That's what your terror scenario is really about, isn't it?
The times becoming interesting? We'd have perfect seats for one of the greatest spectacles in the history of the world; the meltdown of an advanced technological civilization. As you've pointed out, it wouldn't take much. Food and water run out in a few days, and all pretense at decency and morality run out with them. Major cities panic and go berserk. Fire, riots, evacuation. It'd be the greatest unmasking the world has ever known. A mass awakening; millions of people getting very real, very fast. You don't think that'd be fun?"
They're looking at me like I'm crazy, stupid, or just unbelievably rude. I'm directing my words mainly to Henry so the others will feel that they're watching a conversation, and not being directly provoked. They see that Henry isn't offended, so they resist the urge to jump in.
"It's not too improbable, I guess. Terror, nuclear mishap, some planetary event, war, a microbe, an act of God. Things change, fall apart, end. No rule against it, right? Imagine America reduced to a land of warlords and city-states; marauding bands of peevish Merlot sniffers roaming the countryside."
Henry laughs and lifts his wine glass.
"Sultry bouquet! Sultry bouquet!" he shouts like a rallying cry. I laugh too. This is fun.
"Any hope of a return to normalcy vanishes. The people we call primitive are unaffected and go on about their lives undisturbed while the entire wired world descends into savagery; not in years or months, but in weeks, days. We'd see how our deeply held values stand up to an empty stomach.
How many meals do you miss before you stop loving thy neighbor and slit his throat? This civilized veneer is really quite thin. Make a study of the human in extreme prison camps, lost at sea and all that – and you'll see it's not just the veneer of civilized behavior that's thin. Friendship, morality, honor, all disappear. Distinguishing physical characteristics disappear. And what about love?
When the going gets tough, we'll steal food from our own starving children. We're wired to survive and love doesn't override wiring." This isn't going over at all well. [Ala chat.] "I don't really mean us, here, sitting at this table," I continue," because this is all a veneer too. [Ala chat.] These cheerful, well-fed personas are just flimsy veils of consciousness laid over the animal within and don't survive even minor discomforts." Everyone's looking down and around, and my sense is that they'd like one among them to stand up and put me in my place." Who we think we are can be stripped away forever," I make a cool gesture, "just like that. Right now, well fed, unthreatened, we have the luxury of pretending the Donners and the Nazis and the gangbangers are someone else, but they're not. They're us; a veil's breadth away. There are no good guys and bad guys. People are people, all the same; only the circumstances change."
I take a breath and let all that sink in. I stand up and start to pace as I resume the diatribe, both for my own energy and so no one mistakes this for a conversation. They are silent now, watching the show. Maybe it's the words or the force behind them, or maybe it's just the spectacle, but they're Al fixed on me.
No swirling and sniffing. No smug, sideward glances. Henry is positively beaming with delight. He got his show.
I grab a carrot stick and take a bite.
"It could be the death-rebirth process, but on a planetary scale. Very interesting to think about. This whole ego-based society burns to the ground. Years of chaos and anarchy follow, but then something rises from the ashes. What? Probably another ego-based society born of might instead of right, of rancid fear, but maybe not. Maybe some-thing else. Heaven on earth, right? Get ourselves back to the garden, don't you think? That's the process the individual has to go through, so why not a society? It's the kind of thing that seems like an unimaginable nightmare before and a Godsend after. The death and rebirth of Western civilization. A human evolution revolution. Pretty cool, huh?"
Henry seems to think so, the others aren't so sure. This hijacking of a conversation and blowing it out is something I can do as easily as popping a balloon. I just take the subject to a more interesting level and show everyone how it looks from there. You'd think people would get offended, but I don't slow down for that and their initial reaction quickly subsides as they see that something different from conversation is happening, and they get on board.
"Am I wrong about anything?" I ask and look at each of them. "This whole breakdown of services and infrastructure is your thing, [Ala chat] I'm just saying it might be a good thing. Amusing. Burn it all," I wave my carrot stick to indicate Western civilization, "I mean, why not? It's not really going anywhere, is it? Another tired storyline. Death and rebirth, right? Is there any other way?"
I look around. No one speaks.
"Now compare that to these bland little lives you're dozing through. What are you really doing? Crawling toward cancer and heart disease and prolonged agonizing deaths. Am I wrong? Oh, one or two of you might get lucky and die in a car accident or have a heart attack in your sleep or be murdered by your spouse, but that's really the best you can hope for. None of you seem self-determined enough for suicide. [Ala chat.] Compare that cheery outlook to this worst-case scenario of yours.
Sure, you probably wouldn't last long, but what a way to go! A world in flames! But you people don't want that because-what? You got something more important going, I guess. Like what? Your plans? Your careers? Your future? Your children?
Your children are just less developed versions of you and their hope of breaking out of the cycle of denial is no better than yours. And even if it were, that's no reason. The only reason is fear. Your fear gives birth to your denial and your cozy, insular delusions of permanence and continuity. Look at yourselves, getting together so you can reaffirm each other's self-image fantasies and tell scary stories about how the big bad wolf could huff and puff and blow your world down. [Ala chat.]
`Wow, we really dodged a bullet there,' you say about this terror thing, but what you dodged was your own lives. Sorry to be such a bore. Got any cake?"
So, what’s the ‘idea’ that can’t be killed? Inward, not outward, individually.