hopelesshappiness.com

Either everything is okay or everything is not okay.

Everything is not okay.

Based on this premise (that everything is not okay) I see three different groups each characterized by their response, and each represented equitably across the political spectrum.

The majority pretend everything is okay and/or believe everything will be okay. I'll call this group the preebies.

The alarmists work to tell people everything is not okay. An alarmist may also work to offer solutions and/or make things better.

The crazies speak and act rashly and therefore sometimes dangerously; but the large majority of them do so with good intentions.

There is some crossover. For example, I know of some individuals who are (in most circumstance) a preebie but by choosing to ignore consensus science and remain unvaccinated, they qualify in this regard as a crazy. And, how many politicians can we call out as both alarmist and crazy.

A typical alarmist is (if not well-informed, at least) somewhat-informed. I believe a preebie should be required to become an alarmist before they are allowed to test the waters of crazy; though a well-placed alarmist who crosses the line into crazy has potential to do much more damage. And of course we cannot restrict the freedom of an uninformed or ill-informed preebie. If our leaders can traverse crazy, we must allow everyone that right. And I do agree with the essence of this equality, but I might work to mitigate the damage by somehow keeping ‘everyone’ from crossing that line. Some may argue that rash words and actions have some genius potential, but I would argue that there is a difference between rash and drastic; (keep reading).

I am an alarmist. I am an alarmist who believes in consensus science and acknowledges consensus fact. I am an alarmist who is also a consumer and a capitalist, though not by choice. But I am not a well-placed alarmist; and I am not doing a very good job.

Some of the preebies laugh at me.

Some of the preebies feel sorry for me.

Most of the preebies ignore me.

There is a growing movement of alarmists; and there are substantiated reasons, (see consensus science and consensus fact), that this movement is growing.

Most of the preebies dislike alarmists.

Some of the preebies hear some of the somewhat-informed alarmists and test the waters of crazy.

Some of the preebies hear the more well-informed alarmists but become overwhelmed and throw their hands up in despair and go back to being a career consumer believing everything will be okay.

Some of the preebies hear the more well-informed alarmists but because (as career capitalists) they believe they are personally okay, they find reasons to not react accordingly.

If one acts rashly, (without due consideration), they have for that moment crossed over into crazy. Due consideration requires thoughtful analysis of consensus (and opposing) science and fact, and it requires a certain amount of prescient forethought; (i.e. an examination of possible outcomes). With those elements in place, (thoughtful analysis and prescient forethought), one is justified in acting drastically for the sake of improvement and progress. Yet frequently, within the bounds of tradition, and within the bounds of consumerism / capitalism, some drastic actions that have been given due consideration appear to be rash, and the perpetrator of said drastic act appears to have crossed over into crazy. A protest against police violence for example, put against a backdrop of tradition and misremembered good old days, appears to be rash and unnecessary; but against a backdrop of human rights and the prevalence and injustice of implicit and explicit bias, it is the proud, gun-toting protectors of America who are acting rashly and who have crossed over into crazy. The same can be said about the prevalence and injustice of the high costs of housing and education, and the number and ease of evictions, and the ever-increasing wealth gap when looked at against a backdrop of consumerism / capitalism vs. a backdrop of Human rights. It is the wealthy and the landlords and the dollar-driven universities and the system itself that has crossed over into crazy. We must learn to differentiate between rash and drastic and we must recognize the context. Progress (and today, I believe survival) requires thoughtful, far-reaching, drastic action.

I am an alarmist.

And the forest is dark and scary. With trees encumbered by thick, knotted trunks and branches that from here, ground level, don’t look like the appendages of trees. So many obstacles. Briars and brush and undergrowth. Rotting wood and slick, moss-covered stones. It is hard to move from here to there, and it is even more difficult to find direction.

If opportunity is a favorable inclination and if goodness is the essence or nature of Humanity, then opportunity is God

Whereas, if opportunity is a favorable inclination and if ego is the essence or nature of Humanity, then opportunity becomes oppression.

Am I moved by goodness? Or am I moved by ego?

Am I moved by God? Or am I moved by earthly power?

Am I moved by we? Or am I moved by me?

And if I claim to be moved by we, how do I define we? A small group of like-minded individuals? City? State? Nation? World? All sentient beings? All life? All existence?

I believe it to be true that opportunity is both God and oppression. And I believe it is only by way of Humanity that we come to justice and injustice. Opportunity by itself, without goodness, without ego, is blind, random, dumb luck. In this sense, opportunity is (Martin Luther’s) grace that insists on a respectful, unpretentious, humble compassion for All.

I cannot create a self-serving opportunity from goodness. I can only take advantage from ego. Self-serving opportunity is only progressive when it is also oppressive.

I believe progressive opportunity that is equitable must come from goodness and must utilize ‘all existence' as the definition for we. I believe all existence to include all past, present and future realities and possibilities.

Goodness is skewed by my definition of we. But practically, to advance a more equitable, progressive opportunity I must choose realities and possibilities that will make a bigger difference; which in turn will exclude some of we; which in turn will skew goodness. Today, to try and be all-inclusive is to stand still. I must start with all existence but then I must prioritize and choose to act upon only some realities and possibilities.

I choose consensus science. I choose consensus fact. I choose the future. Sadly, what I choose will continue to have very little influence as long as our leaders continue to choose today and ego and whatever their limited definition of we happens to be in a given moment.

If goodness is skewed by my definition of we why would I choose a smaller definition? To feel safer? More comfortable? More in control? Less afraid? I refuse to believe that God would skew/limit/lessen goodness. And any individual who excludes other individuals, who excludes other life or sentience or existence, who believes they are one of a select chosen few, is not serving God, they are serving their ego.

Goodness is skewed by my definition of we.

“[Capitalism is] inimical to poetry, eloquence, memory, the beauty of wit, the fires of imagination, the depth of thought. It is equally disinclined to reward gifts that cannot be turned to its uses.” (Page 27).

These are words written by Marilynne Robinson, (some borrowed from Alexis de Tocqueville), in her 2018 collection of essays, What Are We Doing Here.

So, what are we doing here? If an outsider, say a Tocquevillesque character, visited us today, I believe they would observe that we are functioning within the confines of a system that requires ever-increasing efficiencies at the expense of cultural, social and individual humanity. On this continuum of human intelligence to superficial intelligence to artificial intelligence that is required by this system, as a whole we are rapidly passing through superficial intelligence and fast approaching artificial intelligence. If we maintain this trajectory, the only question that remains is will we take on AI enhancements to ensure subservience to the system thus becoming a different species, or will we plateau a moment before full-fledged artificial intelligence thus maintaining a brittle shell of humanity. Dramatic? Maybe. Valid question? Yes.

Humanity: the quality or condition of being human, including its desire for beauty, truth, justice and perfection, and its proclivity toward fear, ignorance, pleasure and ego. Our trajectory, our system today, takes issue with humanity because humanity impedes efficiency. And, our system today impedes our humanity. The system would prefer aligned perfection with no ego. So, are we here to advance our system? Or are we here to advance our humanity? What are we doing here?

Those who buy into the system, (perhaps more so those who are wealthy and buy into the system) are dangerously duplicitous. The system is inhumane. An inhumane human is duplicitous. In this sense, perhaps we are all to a degree duplicitous, but those who stand against meritocracy and credentialism and human freedom as employability and the monetization of every aspect of every thought are likely not dangerously duplicitous. To value and champion “poetry, eloquence, memory, the beauty of wit, the fires of imagination, the depth of thought” is to stand outside the system and see how it is narrowing our vision and excising the very essence of our humanity.

To regain our humanity, to turn around and move back through superficial intelligence and toward human intelligence, we must somehow, within the universal bounds of civilization and citizenry, break then reconstruct our system. I so much want to believe we are capable. In this moment, monetary and political power have become primary, driving, (while stripping away layers of), our humanity. We have it backwards. Power is not the benevolent ruler it pretends to be, granting individuals their freedom and defining/dictating their purpose. Power is a consequence of cultural, social and individual humanity and is in place to protect humanity’s (cultural, social and individual) pursuit of freedom. We must recognize and live within this fact, or, continue on our current trajectory.

Twas the night before nothing, when all through the naught

Not no-one was nowhere, with nary a thought;

Tick-tockings were stung by this great laissez-faire,

A past-present-future not here and not there;

The people thus nestled, unplugged and well-fed,

Had visions that bar none danced likewise unsaid;

With rama-lama-ding-dong, and a quick-clap-snap,

We’d all settled down for a long winter’s nap,

When up in my grill there arose such a clatter,

Reality sprang, but we know ‘it’ don’t matter.

Away to the smart phone I flew like a flash,

Tore open my mind and threw in all this trash.

Impugn the distressed. Maintain status quo.

We’ll throw bluster and hearsay at bobsleds below.

Then, what to my wandering mind should appear,

But a party to plan, and a truck full of beer,

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his cases they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

“Now, Coors Light! Now, Guinness! Now Blue Moon and Hamm's!

On, imports! Hard ciders! Some chugs and some slams!

From a splash of V8! To a cold PBR!

Ablate and stagnate! Belly up to the bar!”

As dry wisps that before all the brain cells die,

When they meet with a warning, deny and defy,

So out of the beer truck the cases they flew,

My party was happening, with St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling. Or maybe ten years.

Or maybe much later. Oh, so many beers.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

St. Nicholas lay there, passed out on the ground.

Still dressed in his fir, from his head to his firt,

His clothes were all tarnished with gravel and dirt;

A big mug o’ beer he had clung in his mitts,

And beside him a gift and a six-pack of Schlitz.

The gift – how It twinkled! The wrapping how merry!

Just waiting to pounce on recipients unwary!

The print on the paper contrasted the bow,

Which was shiny, reflective and white as the snow;

The plump of a ripe pomegranate beneath

A joyous, letter-shaped holiday wreath;

This alphabet print on a bed of mint jelly,

Brought a smile to my face and a burp from my belly.

I picked up the gift, my right jolly old self,

And I laughed when I shook it, in spite of myself;

It jingled and jangled, the letters they tumbled,

They zigged and they zagged, and they all come unjumbled;

The letters they spelled but one sentence for me,

This magical gift on a gift-giving spree,

I handed it off to the next one in line,

And found that their words were different from mine;

The gift was passed back, the print zigged and it zagged,

And when letters settled, I sighed and I sagged,

I shook it again to get them unstuck,

My message still read, beware of beer truck.

Then Santa came to, grabbed a Schlitz, wet his whistle,

Jumped back in his truck, with a wave of dismissal.

I stayed clear but still heard ere he drove out of sight,

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

Twas the week before Christmas, when all through the land

Time stopped. Had enough. Stood still. Took a stand.

The moments were hung upside down and hog tied,

A past misremembered, a future denied.

The people were nestled all snug in their heads,

Not noticing time unraveling its threads

But mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,

We looked at each other and asked, “what's the hap?”

We felt the disturbance, the twitter, the splatter,

We sprang to conclusions and watched roaches scatter.

Away to my newsfeed I flew like a flash,

But no word about time, only red-blue-boom-crash.

The swoon of time pressed for this time to bestow

Revitalized lustre to kick start its flow,

Tis a shame that time is now waiting for us,

In its fashion, its way, in its time travel bus.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,

It's Santa who's stopped time! It's good old St. Nick!

More rapid than eagles his invectives came,

And he shouted, and cursed, and called them by name;

“Now, Rich Guy! Now, Tyrant! Destroyers of Earth!

On, Bias! Injustice! The Luck of your Birth!

Though tied up in knots, Earth time won’t stand still!

But your time has paused with no future to fill!”

As sly thieves that before the inequities fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, preach and decry,

Sow fear and spread hatred, maintain status quo,

Keep marching in place and our time will not flow.

And then in a rumbling, I heard the bus start

The belching and rattling, it's coming apart.

As I drew in my head, and fell to the ground,

It leapt forward and back, then it spun round and round.

It was shrouded in smoke from its front to its rear,

And then it was gone, over there, now back here;

Sharp shattered moments Saint Nick flung about,

And he looked like a madman whose sense done gave out.

His eyes – how they narrowed! Atop o' that bus!

Clutching the future, hence thusly and thus!

His grip on tomorrow was tight and severe,

Much like the grip that I grip on my beer.

The stump of a week he held tight in his teeth,

And the years they encircled his head like a wreath;

He swallowed a swath into his round belly,

And I felt to-be shake like a bowlful of jelly.

No more chubby and plump, time's bulk is decreasing,

Oppression and privilege, relentless, unceasing;

A squint of his eye and a shake of his head,

Thus gave me to know our time might could be dead

He spoke not a word, but continued his toil,

His flinging and chewing, unknot and uncoil,

Consuming our time to restore and renew,

The nature of nature, the good and the true.

He sprang from the bus and to time gave a shout,

“It's time to move on whether with or without.

They've nurtured the ways that have brought them to here,

And now it is time they see no time is near.”

He said it twice more and again to be clear,

“And now it is time they see no time is near.”

Then I heard him to plead, ere he drove out of sight,

“Please try to catch up; Happy Christmas; Good Night.”