About a year ago I wrote a blog on how, in order for the keep up interest, the 24 hour news stations had to make every insignificant story the most important thing ever. At the time, I felt it was just the news. Now I realize that it is all of us who equally share the blame. And if these actions continue, and somehow unify into one self-important, cosmic collection, it may eventually rip apart space and time, wholly undoing the very fabric of our universe.
What we all seem guilty of is maintaining a constant state of fanatical movement from one angry mob to another in a hopeless attempt to find a unifying, cohesive cause. Everything from the "war for civilization" we are fighting in the Middle East, to the "global emergency facing our plant through our own careless lifestyles", all the way to whether or not everyone is praying enough, to the right God, in the right way, so that He will not send down upon us a Judgment Day of boiling blood and bowl-shaking demons, hell bent on ripping our souls from our still pulsing bodies.
Is this cataclysmic scaled arguing overwhelming the good causes in all of this? How do we get excited about real issues in a level suitable for intelligent action? How do we keep perspective when the norm is believing we are catastrofucked? Why are we so damn addicted to feeling like every little piece of our lives must be the most important moment ever? Who knows, maybe everything that is going on right now is the most important thing to have ever faced humanity as we know it. Or maybe it's just our stem cell destroying, endangered species consuming, eroding morality, democracy annihilating, war mongering, self inflicted narcissistic, gas guzzling bandwagon, which is on a direct collision course with the apocalyptic death machine that is reality, that haunts us.
Or maybe, we all know that reality happens to be plain and boring - and that scares us the most.
My blog contains a large number of posts. A few are included in various other publications, or as attached stories and chronicles in my emails; many more are found on loose leaves, while some are written carelessly in margins and blank spaces of my notebooks. Of the last sort most are nonsense, now often unintelligible even when legible, or half-remembered fragments. Enjoy responsibly.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
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