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Name-calling by The Alchemist, Dec. 25, 2004
As I moved away from this uproar, I noted a lone woman perhaps 25 feet away, strolling casually toward me, glancing from time to time at the colorful prints. As the child-storm noise level approached F-5, our eyes met, and I gave her a rueful grin, as if to say “some peoples children…”. Now mind you, there couldn’t have been anyone on this floor who was unaware of the holy terrors, but all of a sudden like she becomes cognizant of the uproar and calls out “Matthew! Mark, Luke!” in the direction of the aforesaid brats. My jaw dropped. “Are those yours?” Emphasis on “yours”. She says something like is anything wrong. Well, I manage, just that they are climbing on exhibits. I refrain from stating the obvious that they are generally ruining the experience of the other patrons, as we are, by now, the only adults within sight, the rest having fled from the piercing noise and ruckus. As she wobbles into gear toward the tots, I see the security guard round the far corner at a near-trot. He does NOT look pleased. Finally. I move on into the next Lasansky room. “Kaddish”, a series of etchings he did to express the twin feelings of horror and relief after WWII. It is quite moving. Soon the noise subsides, and the museum settles back to its normal quiet self. Bad, or rather non-parenting is not, in a single instance, cause for righteous indignation, much less a screaming tirade. Recently I indulged in a bit of a hissy fit in reaction to a brainless screed by some wingnut who was venting his spleen here on unknown news. While it felt good at the time, afterward I realized that my outburst was a bit like losing my temper at a ill-mannered child. I began to wonder at the source of this anger. Unlike the loud boys at the museum, who were merely a nuisance, the loud wingnuts are a real menace. They are dangerous. They vote, drive automobiles, drink, procreate, and generally indulge in all sorts of behaviors which should be limited to responsible, sane adults. Yet they are not sane at all. But I realize that verbally lambasting them is quite as ineffectual as my Mom’s shushing of the recalcitrant child. He had no respect for her (or seemingly for his parents) and so felt quite justified in continuing his obnoxious behavior. Yet I am so frustrated, so very angry, at my fellow Americans who are so dense that they cannot see, much less admit, that our nation has become a murderous, outlaw regime. I want to scream it loud enough that their blocked ears will be forced to hear. I often wonder if these people are the same species as you and I, or if perhaps David Icke is right, that we have been invaded by shapeshifting reptilians from the stars. It almost seems a preferable argument to the alternative, that so-called upstanding citizens are so soul-dead that they casually accept torture, murder, and the litany of our collective national sins as par for the course. I wish I had the verbal acuity of Mykeru to lay out the case for what is ailing our nation. Mykeru's article should be posted on every bulletin board in America. I am old enough to remember a better time in this country. I wonder at our youth, indoctrinated by lying Faux news, bereft of real education, taught that “moral values” means hating people different than you. I wonder how they will cope. Hell, I wonder how I will cope, because honestly, every time I see another fucking yellow magnetic ribbon (made in China) stuck to the rear of a gas-guzzling SUV, I want to rar’ back and puke. I used to be a pretty jolly guy. How the fuck do you keep from screaming all the time? In the words of Jackson Browne, “I wanna be a happy idiot, and struggle for the legal tender”. I am not scared at all of terrorists. You have a statistically greater chance of being killed by a bee sting than a terrorist. But I am terrified of living in a totalitarian state. And that is what we are becoming. And sooner rather than later. Like those spoiled children, our so-called leaders seem immune to our pleas. They seem immune to spanking as well, having secured the means of the vote. They are busily looting the wealth, soon most of America will be a smoldering ruin (economically, if not physically), a devastated landscape of McJobs, desperation, and poverty, killed just as finally, if not as dramatically as the civilization on the slopes of Vesuvius. Maybe, one day, some future civilization will have a few scraps of Americana in their museum. I just wonder if they will admire us as founders of freedom, like the Greeks, or despise us as despoilers of the world, like the Nazis we are rapidly becoming. The Alchemist
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