We're all insane
By Stacey Warde
Everyone I know is in the midst of having, or is about to have, a nervous breakdown. Why wouldn’t they?
With monsters for world leaders bent on destroying the planet, we can take little comfort in our future.
Unless working people demand accountability and assume responsibility for governing themselves, we can expect more lies, violence, and political disasters like the one that started in 2000 and continues to this day.
The word is that it’s too late for that. The world has become such a mess, people say, we’ve entered a long and painful descent, both human and environmental, into an abyss of suffering, which will surely end in death and destruction, and more campaigns for state-sanctioned torture, terror, spying and intimidation. As global warming melts the polar caps and spawns deadly hurricanes, George W. Bush runs roughshod over Constitutional liberties and spreads hatred and fear throughout the world, giving birth to more terrorists. And it’s only getting worse.
The way things are going in the U.S. — with liberties and privacy disappearing, and friends losing their marbles — we can expect “Special Training Camps” soon, where we’ll be reprogrammed to consider torture a viable option for dealing with our enemies, where war is peace and a government without newspapers is preferred to newspapers without government.
Sure, it makes sense that so many people I know seem edgy and act crazy, threatening to kill their neighbors, or leaving town without a word to their friends or family.
The planet is ruined; civilization is doomed.
If the U.S. doesn’t destroy itself, the earth will upchuck us all into oblivion, a horrendous planetary projectile vomit that will remove the beasts we’ve become from out of its system. The planetary purge will include global meltdown, pestilence, famine and disease. It’s no wonder people act bonkers.
Where are the people who know how to laugh at themselves and their enemies? What happened to decency, diplomacy, respect and humor? What happened to good science? Is it possible to remain sane without these?
I’ve had a recurring dream in which the rest of the world decides to annihilate the United States, and remove it from the face of the earth.
Countless missiles fill the sky, racing toward their targets, which in minutes will turn to dust and ash. The world has had enough. The U.S. must die.
American fighter pilots bravely and futilely scramble in an attempt to intercept the missiles. Terror and panic grip the citizenry as it watches the spectacle above, knowing that the inevitable fiery and miserable end is only seconds away.
The missiles hauntingly streak through the upper stratosphere in quiet determination to reach their targets — big cities, military and industrial complexes, the whole she-bang of American power and might.
I’ve awakened from this recurring dream in a mild fret, musing over the possibility of this nation’s demise. If we stay the course, as proposed and executed by the Bush administration, I tell my self, it’s going to happen. We deserve it.
And then, I go on about my day.
Recently, however, while working in the garden, I heard a horrible, unnatural and deep rumbling in the distance.
“What the hell is that?” I wondered, looking up into the sky. I held onto my shovel, and listened more closely.
“Is that how it will sound as targets in the distance — Los Angeles, San Francisco, Vandenberg Air Force Base, and Los Osos — go up in flames?”
By the time such a rumbling would have reached me, I reasoned, it would all have been over. Our great pride and shame reduced to ashes.
Then, on the street below, a shiny black car passed, its overcharged sound system booming, reverberating, shaking the ground: “Boom! Boom-boom! Boom!” The driver, as so many Americans suffering from vacuous choices, was completely oblivious of his surroundings. The earth shook as he passed homes, not caring or thinking or conscious of his impact on the world around him.
“Boom! Boom-boom! Boom!” It went on for several blocks until, thankfully, it finally passed out of earshot.
I realized in that moment that the world would be correct to take us out. Loud, brash and belligerent, thinking only of their precious lifestyle, Americans have become despicable, if not pathetic, to the rest of the world.
Thinking only of themselves, Americans have become their own worst enemies. We don’t need terrorists to destroy our nation. We’re already doing it ourselves.
When it gets to be like this, when the world championed by our leaders resembles a nuthouse, or a staging area for Armageddon, and it feels like too great a burden to bear, I always like to escape alone to work and play in the garden. Or, I’ll read a book. It sets my mind at ease to let it wander among the flowers and insects, or along the pages of a gripping story.
This edition of The Rogue Voice moves me toward the kind of escape that lets me forget how bad things have gotten. It’s racy, juicy and full of humor. It’s human. At times, it reads like a novel. In places, it swings with a gossipy note, or spins into an adult comic book with sassy blondes shooting pool in a bar near the beach.
I’ve come to love this publication because it takes me places I might not have chosen on my own, places where I learn something new about myself and the world I live in. It reminds me that there are still people in the world who haven’t lost their minds, their sense of humor or their humanity. §