It's the abstraction of big, national economic problems that make them almost impossible to solve. Like sleepily attempting to run in a dream and being confounded by its impossibility, trying to understand the modern technobabble that has run off with economics leads mostly to blinking eyes and a desire to be find a new subject. I suppose its not just economics, though. Wars for "freedom" involving no one we really know and costing the average American nothing (at least not immediately) also suffer from the same hazy fog of abstraction. General vague feelings evoked at words like "equality" or the "American dream" create a fuzzy feeling and then we look down to see who texted us and the thought sweetly slips away.
It's hard to believe anything anymore. I mean believe, not just "feel". I know a lot of people who feel a whole lot about ______ (if its my generation, its the "environment" and "GLBT rights"; if its those on the right, its the "free market" or "exceptionalism"), but these feelings are just vague self-reinforcing road signs, giving the impression and all the accompanying comfort that one is on the right path. But in day to day life it is not these things that drive a person. It is, rather, the desire to just get the hell out of the office by five, or to make it to the bar before happy hour ends, or to keep the social networks updated, or to get enough to buy a new phone because a new phone is just gonna make the whole thing easier, really - trust me (some of these desires, of course, are more noble than others).
What is this vague and gray, sticky and slow block, this thought-aborting malaise? Again I go back to dreams, where one can't seem to raise one's head, or open the door that really needs to be open. Actions are slowly and inexplicably whisked away. We lower our heads and bow to slumber.
What is it? Who the hell knows. It's something straight from the devil to be sure. I received a letter from Comcast the other day, assuring me that their wondrous machines could provide me and mine with "the entertainment services you deserve". Good Lord! Entertainment services I deserve? First and foremost, what the hell are we doing talking about "entertainment services?" It reminds me of the fact that so much of economy has shifted from manufacturing to the service and entertainment industries respectively. We don't make stuff no more (except for lattes, of course), we just buy stuff and get ourselves entertained. And yet this new reality is no longer shocking (was it ever? is the devil too subtle? does he fly under all our radars?). No, it is so prevalent we don't even notice it. We assume entertainment is something owed, something "deserved". And as much as I hoped that upon opening that envelope, the services revealed of which I assuredly deserved would include a monkey and an accordion...
What is this malaise? Presumably it is the exhaustion of a culture that has just laid on its ass for far too many years. A culture that does not work, a culture that is "entertained", a culture whose gods are celebrities of the most pagan sort. We cannot be but exhausted; we haven't done anything in generations There is no nourishment here, only the opportunity to eat more. No thirst is quenched here, but the cocktail parties are endless. No one believes a damn thing anymore, but we all (God spare my blog in this) have opinions tied to feelings. We like to say things that bring comforting sensations.
The first temptation for men of my sort, is ironic detachment. "The idiotic world is dying- let us drink and chuckle". Let us not condemn these men outright. At least they know something is wrong! And at least they drink whiskey (or they should). Beer drinkers are not allowed to scoff at the world in an ironic fashion.
Secondly, and related to the first option, is the turn to the book. For if one hates what has become of the world, one can learn how it happened, one can find the etiology of the nihilism and then stand triumphant! This, of course, is related to the first temptation, as the knowledge provided through study leads quite often to hopelessness, and then to the irony and then, the cupboard!
I suppose there is also a religious option of a more or less apocalyptic leaning. I mean apocalyptic in the worst sense, the "well this whole place is gonna be gone soon and I'm gonna be sitting pretty with m' Lord up in heaven, so really who cares?!" sense.
There are better sorts of the apocalyptic. Saints have achieved these and my stained hands dare not describe them.
No solution is here offered, my friends. If I had it I would have published it and, assuming on its popularity, I would even now be spending these Late and Waning Days in a big bed of cool cash in front of huge screen of some sort, forgetting and making some fun of it.
I leave you with this encouragement.
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