Not too long ago, The Calender section of my beloved Times had an article about a TV show I found particularly horrifying back-in-the-day – but fondly remembered by The Times writer – known as “30 Something.” God how I detested this show, and, even though I loved “The Big Chill” when it came out – I have come to realize that American script writers “don’t get out much.” There is a frightening naivete in American art: reflective of our insulation and polarization from the-rest-of-the-world, and, “other world” history.
Now I watch this selfsame naivete play itself out in every possible American theater…except…except…except where the Fat Cats like to play: in the stock markets. Isn’t the stock market really a barometer to nowhere though? It’s the caterpillar pillar (of ‘Hope for the Flowers’ fame); and, the Land of Oz. Yet I hear about it every day on the news, as if it were a thermometer to somewhere. I’m convinced it’s soma for the middle class who think they can play with the Fat Cats (Bernie M. better keep some form of dowry for the folks who can fuck him up on the inside).
I’m thinking, but I could be wrong (because my Mother has yet to give me her official figure) – that we are some three trillion dollars in debt (mostly to China). How in-the-Hell are we supposed to circumvent this debt without selling off the U.S., or, de-valuing the dollar? The house trick has done turned as much as she can…the can, in turn, has been kicked down a dead-end alley. Where do we go from here?
I usually write about doom-and-gloom – not because I’m depressed or wishing ill upon my fellow man – but because I hate it when folks (particularly my American brethren) – complain about stuff that they simply don’t understand. We’re only as good as the information we have. If people don’t constantly take in new information – then they are doomed to rot in a morass of outdated information, rhetoric, double-speak, and, Old Wives’ Tales.
Most everyone I know these days seems to have a belief that someone “out there” is looking out for them…that when-the-chips-are-down, their Fairy Godmother will float in and float them out in her plastic bubble. Even the media are reporting Bernanke’s smoke-and-mirrors as a country pulling out of recession?! I just gotta know what horse we’ve managed to ride outta Depression Dodge. How did the stagecoach git in and outta town and I missed it – cuz I’ve got a pretty keen eye for movement in a positive direction (I have been an educator for 31 years don’t forget)?
The drunk in UFO’s “Rock Bottom” asked: “Where do we go from here?” And Fish, in MARILLION’s “Clutching at Straws,” posed the same question. And no one seems capable of answering the question…we’ve cloaked ourselves in so many realities and perspectives in the good ol’ U.S. of A. – that I don’t know which one we’ll choose to rally around. Hell! A member of the Russian Mafia purchased the New Jersey Nets basketball team yesterday. (I do understand that the Russians enjoy their basketball.) Is it to the beginning of the end of ethnocentrism and jingoism? Is it because Obama quit pointing missiles at those good tennis players? Or, is vodka simply the way to go (cuz potatoes are a healthy food stuff)?
All I know is that my beloved Times wasn’t delivered a-couple-of-Sundays-ago, and still wasn’t delivered after a-couple-of-phone-calls. Then Monday’s paper had two blurred/smudged pages and numerous folded/cut pages…wherever we’re going feels like the beginning of the end…