Thought Chasm

To the generations before,

I ask you to accept the consequences of your decisions. You’ve made many choices, subtle and overt, with best intentions but without your being held to account, we cannot move forward, destined to be eclipsed or worse.

You invented the automobile, removing public transportation from the collective consciousness.* Only recently have the effects of that shift been realized. The pollution, isolation and congestion caused is irreparable.

With those cars, you fled—in fear or for status—to monocultural enclaves. Surrounded by like-minded friends, set at easily-fenced distances, you must now assert yourself to find contrary views. Few attempt this.**

Your cultural uniformity has birthed a media intent on misinformation. News has been circumvented by opinion mashed with deceptive polls and statistics. Journalism’s remaining shell lacks perspective, as you’ve proven you favor graphics and belligerent pundits to well-rounded reports.

Despite logic, you grant corporations the rights of citizens, as if their vast resources and unaccountability are comparable. These corporations are free to misinform or omit, creating a legion of ignorant, loyal consumers.

Trained for decades, you consume beyond your means. The Invisible Hand has replaced the Thunder Bolt as the manifestation of God.*** The investment in 401Ks and their ilk artificially bloat the import of the market.

A reliance on immediate, drastic growth, without consideration for externalities like pollution or depletion, cripples the generations to follow. Though economic corrections, on a small scale, have started, current trends are unsustainable.

Health care costs are already increasing exponentially and care is rationed among those who most need it; you ambitiously believe the opposite. Despite logic, you’ve skirted responsibility, mortgaging the future of your children.

Focused on price, your idea of food has mutated into processed metaphors. Subsidies foster malnutrition even among the growing number of obese children. The traditions of generations have been replaced by Kraft or Cambell’s chemical formulas.****

In fear and cultural misunderstanding, you have turned a passive state into a military empire. This change is perpetual, as its progress can’t be slowed for fear of self-destruction. This leaves your children willing to forfeit liberties, vulnerable and even more fearful.

Despite logic, you’ve patented life and diminished it.

Your children communicate through illegible text messages or status updates with little interaction with other cultures, beliefs or ideas. They know no different, fearing strangers, neighbors and neighborhoods, as you and the media have taught them.

This is not a matter of blame. Brought up in constant fear of “the other,” you cannot be expected to act rationally. ***** Shifting the focus from yourselves, though, is unacceptable.

Without accepting that your working through retirement keeps a teen on the street or your celebrated socioeconomic ideals leave millions without the means to flourish, we can go no further. You have lowered the standard of living for your children.

Those children will make do with what’s been given. Whether they shirk your ideology and infuse policy with compassion or continue the course you’ve set will determine the fate of the nation.

I believe it will be the former, despite all logic.

Sincerely,

A 20-something, concerned for his unborn progeny

* The concept of public transit in many forms is still laughed at on any sitcom desperate for knee-jerk laughs.

** Many who try to diversify their worldview are shunned as outcasts. Cable channels and biased news papers allow for anyone to feel as if they’re in the majority, ignoring other perspectives just by neglecting one station or another.

*** This in the face of a proven inability to calculate true cost. Pure capitalism, when attempted, yields oppression and crushing socioeconomic inequality.

**** The profound misunderstanding of how nutrients relate to nutrition has been analyzed ad nauseam and is a likely cause of our epidemic obesity. Subsidies exacerbate this by pricing fresh foods out of the reach of many.

***** Those that profited most from that fear have created another ambiguous other, more tenuous than preceding iterations but no less able to increase profits and decrease liberty.

He’s not who I remember but someone I’ll never forget. His eyes meet mine. They’re fearless. He is ready to leave. I don’t want him to.

There’s so much to say it piles onto itself, folding and collapsing and stretching until it’s indecipherable. The words are stubborn, refusing release.

The warmth in his eyes betrays the chill of the metal bed and the steril hum of the room that surrounds us. His mouth shifts soundlessly. Instead, a tear spills from the corner of his left eye and he blinks.

Memories, pictures, laughter and voices vibrate in the silence. The mechanical ting of seemingly complex machines rings unnoticed. They’re overwhelming.

Choking, some words drop from my tongue, landing like marbles on the carpet. Immediately the room fills, blurring and warping. My cheek is wet.

He is ready to leave and has been for some time. I don’t want him to. I’m an insolent child. A tantrum tickles the back of my neck despite the inevitability.

I want him to stand next to me in my tuxedo. I want him to be there like he always has been. I want him to see me grow up but in his eyes I already have.

With a jolt the air thickens to a syrup. I lean in, awkwardly, hugging him as best I can. Words in a whisper and I stand. I stay there for a moment, tethered to the bed and to him before staggering through the door.

I’m outside, not feeling the crisp breeze or seeing the snow in dirty, melting drifts on the grass. My face is hot; my head is shrinking. I sit on the dusty green chair, watching the world spin—not just the present but the past and what’s to come.

I get back to my feet, walking slowly back inside. He is ready to leave. It’s not up to me.

We used to sacrifice during war, falling heavily into debt that was sometimes recovered through growth or, not so long ago, pillaging the resources of conquered lands. Now we manufacture money so citizens can continue their glut, devaluing the currency, ballooning debt and sparking inflation.

Along with those internal struggles, a global economy means any country’s money is every other countries’ money. The interplay of loans, trade and–rarely–aid make any conflict difficult to resolve. War in the middle east cannot be won. Our nation is the largest consumer of their most lucrative export.

Each country, with no more land to forcefully take and increasingly limited resources is dependent on dozens of others. A conflict between nations is a conflict of interests. Increasingly, allies are more dependent on commodities than ideologies.

Many countries are caught in no-win relationships with their rivals. In fact, most are finding that cooperation benefits both parties more than antagonism. Those that don’t accept this are caught in endless turmoil, lofting explosives at each other between gunfire and gaining nothing.

In the past, victory was expensive but attainable. Weapons, men, supplies and mobility were found at high cost, financed or repaid with spoils and taxes. Technology now makes it possible to confront and debilitate an entire company for under a thousand US dollars.

Every “smart” missile that detonates one “terrorist cell” recruits any number of terrorists by fostering discontent and a thirst for retribution when their relatives are wounded or worse. Distinct cultures and terrain make overtaking an enemy difficult. Advances that give them the ability to kill with a cellular phone and readily available explosives make it more so.

Oil and other energy sources are costly and finite. The US Department of Defense’s per capita energy consumption is about ten times that of China, consuming as much energy as Nigeria. Three quarters is used by vehicles.

We have reached a point, through social and technological advances, where victory through war is impossible. This is a simple statement. This is a simple statement no one in power admits.

Even in Iraq I a multinational force only managed to defend a small country from invasion by another. In fifty years, no country has been taken by force. Iraq II has yet to be declared a war.

Misguided nationalism, strong support from powerful military suppliers and delusional misconceptions of power guide foreign policy. Until we accept that military victory is no longer an option, we will pathetically attempt to force countries into submission.

Our media can no longer vilify a miniscule, fringe element in order to create the illusion of an enemy population. Our politicians can no longer lead with guns. We must learn about and from other cultures.

I’ll mention the small Idaho town and the people we met there or the camping in national landmarks. Or the coast, the ocean, the drinking, the time away—all listed as highlights when anyone asks. That’s not exactly true.

Almost two weeks on the road, mostly in a car at various speeds, and the real apex involved stars—thousands of them.

For as long as I remember, I’ve enjoyed the quiet. I’ve always had a fondness for time alone, to gather my thoughts, process and relax.

Sometimes it takes a month, others a few hours, but eventually quiet replaces the din. Now, those times are rare. It’s been months since there was silence.

Even in unemployment, where time is in surplus, there is noise. The dull hum of having to stay in, to save money. Plates crashing to the floor when bills come due. The barely-audible squeal of others’ expectations.

The moon was bright but clouds cast vast shadows over the crest of the mountains. After the hike up their rocky slopes and the grueling jog back down, my muscles buzz. A light breeze was crisp, refreshing.

I walk down the road, leaving the campsite and nearing the beach. A path opens to my left. I follow it, down the hill and past the picnic tables leaning up against trees. In the light of my headlamp they glow the sickly, pale gray.

The stones on the beach shift, scraping lightly against each other under my feet. The water laps against them twenty feet in front of me. Across the lake, the colossal shadows of the mountains loom.

Through the clouds, stars glitter. There are so many this far from everywhere.

To the right, slivers of light from the parking lot give texture and edges to the beach and forest. There’s only the faint smack of water over stones. Everything is still.

The silence engulfs me, muting the buzzing, humming and squealing. There is comfort in the solitude. The trip, despite the cost, is entirely worth it.

Economic strength is built on an incomplete, unsustainable equation, benefiting few, exploiting many. It’s growth is based on the shifting of responsibility, a constant thirst for resources stolen from others.

The flaws in Mr. Smith’s theory are downplayed. Resources are finite, very few have access and those in power work tirelessly to keep it. These flaws have become infested wounds on prosperity.

Health care is built on caring for the sick, now turned away if their condition is preexisting. Dozens of forms, calls and mistakes for something as simple as a visit to a clinic. Constantly struggling in reactive care.

More and more our health is profit, not benefit. The manifestation of a bottom line hinders care, shifting a worthwhile endeavor toward a toxic societal parasite.

Religious opulence is built on the metaphors of prophets devoted to the impoverished. A mutation of optimistic faith that enables racism, war and oppression. Clinging to it are those that can least afford indoctrination.

Places of worship are decadent, impressive but hollow. The ideas presented are absolute, based on vague. Followers fail to grasp greater contexts and latch to black v. white, right v. wrong ideas that change easily.

Democratic process is built on few representing the many and ignores many in favor of few. A polarized climate caters to the extremes while the middle is forgotten. The majority buzzing is drowned out by the fringe screaming.

Pushed by industry, government has reduced its power willingly and hastily. Industry has no interest in social programs or education, necessary to a healthy culture. Without accurate representation, most are rendered silent.

Religion, economics, democracy, health care and other essentials must be reconsidered. They’re mutations that must be addressed, not taken for granted.

I awake. No, that’s the wrong word. I come to mid-wretch. I twist on the bench and face the cement below. It feels cold even without touching it. Strange, with the dark air warm, pushing against my skin.

There’s vomit there. Even in my near-zombie state, I quickly realize it’s mine. Or was it the cement’s? Possession can be so confusing. It stares up at me, laughing.

Turning over, onto my back, the sky is black beyond the sheet metal roof, through the glass of my cage. No, not a cage, a bus stop. Why am I at a bus stop?

I sit up and the entire continent moves with me. I hope no one lost their balance. The granite settles to the basalt and it’s clear it’s not dark.

It isn’t light either. Not really. What time is it? Someone replaced my watch with a blurred Venn diagram.

The first few steps are sludgy, heavy but that fades, replaced by the gait of a man spinning a Hula-Hoop simultaneously. Luckily there’s no one around to witness my spirited mimicry of a Weeble.

The hours fall away but the sun fears rising. There is only the dull, jittery light darkness. No, that’s not right. It only feels as long.

At the door, the keys miss their mark once, maybe twice. I lock up and stumble out of my jeans. The mattress hugs me and I fall to sleep.

No, pass out.