I started thinking about Mother Culture, particularly our American Mother Culture, as Giti and I flew to Florida to visit my folks during the Easter time. As my staunchest readers are aware – I’ve “borrowed” the concept of Mother Culture from Daniel Quinn, and, Ishmael.
As I read my beloved Times on the Delta flight headed towards Cincinnatti (the new Delta hub for Fort Myers) – I was reminded of all the very terrible stuff going on in the world – whether it was Iraq, Afghanistan, Nigeria, Pakistan and now Thailand, and, Russian states that I can neither pronounce nor spell. The endless violence afforded by our own U.S. of A. goes without saying…
And then I got a bit of a musical lick going in my brain: “OK, ok, OK, ok – it’s OK, it’s OK, it’s OK” – this being the refrain. After-a-bit of tinkering on the piano – I realized the tune had to be rendered in reggae fashion: the true musical genre of social rebellion. I immediately telephoned my inspiration into HG – and he crafted some masterful lyrics overnight. So we’ll see how “Mother Culture” (the song title) turns out.
For those wondering what I intimate through the concept of Mother Culture – it’s not too much different from Daniel Quinn’s original usage: that little, but extremely powerful voice, that talks to us, and, tells us not to worry — even though we see the tsunami of human blood and suffering — swirling all around us. So the usage of “It’s OK” in the song is meant to be a tad ironic – because the-manner-in-which life unfolds for-so-many-of-us really ISN’T OK!
But Mother Culture suggests that it’s OK to numb ourselves and carry on (perhaps we are merely transmitters as Deepak suggests…)…God I hope not – but the pharmaceutical companies have been in bed with Mama C for a long time now…
And then one day, while Giti and I were walking through the folks’ retirement village, a Bush and Reagan Swamp – where my father can complain about the release of a handful of terrorist suspects from Guantanamo, but be completely oblivious to myriad terrorists created by the Bush incursions into the Middle East – we met a salt-of-the-earth American named Bruce.
When Bruce learned that Giti was Iranian – he asked why we all just couldn’t get along – but suggested that Iran and Venezuela posed some of the major hurdles to international friendship (the last I heard was that the U.S. had an armed presence in 155 of the world’s countries – but I guess that a good police force needs plenty of police stations in the rough neighborhoods). Let’s hope-and-pray that the police force stays incorruptible as beer-bellied Bruce seems to believe – cuz if the police ever sold Bruce off to the cannibals – the cops would make some good money off of Bruce Beef. But Bruce’s myopia is no fault of his – as Mother Culture makes sure that elderly Floridians only see what she wants them to see.
Of course It’s not OK – and I’m not sure if it’s ever been OK since the Romans began the era of White expansionism. Yes, I’m fully aware that Genghis Khan wasn’t White – but the Mongols learned their lesson RE: expansionism – while it seems that EVERY White tribe on the planet has to have their shot at global domination.
I am reminded of John Donne’s words in “For Whom the Bell Tolls”: “Ask not for whom the bell tolls, It tolls for thee.” So each time one, or many-of-us, is butchered – part of our being dies as well – and no matter how comfortably numb we become – we can’t hide, when we’re crippled inside (Lennon). God! I’d rather be a pagan – suckled in a creed outworn, than endure the dulcet, hypnotizing tones of Mother Culture!