Dilligence

So here I am, empty blank space, a keyboard, a playlist chocked up full of Margot and the Nuclear So and So's, and a bottle of chilled sake. The next hour holds a fair amount of promise for some creativity I would like to think. I will say though, that the majority of my thoughts recently have all been pretty heavy. I can't pinpoint where everything went South. I've been on a huge Hunter S. Thompson kick recently, and anyone who has read the man would not only understand why but also understand the reason that my thoughts have been drifting towards the weightier matters of the world, and the general workings of this incredible societal machine that America seems completely bent on botching at every conceivable turn.

The more I trace things back the more it would seem that things stopped getting accomplished in this country before I was born. The 60's are an amazing period of time in our country's history. Ironically enough, I feel as though I spent absolutely no time learning anything of significance about the period during my tenure at any of the various institutions of learning that I have attended up to this point in my life and that troubles me, because so much was accomplished by a sector of the population that nobody wanted to acknowledge. This is remarkable for several reasons; the primary one being that during the 60's it was essentially proven that the heart of a democracy was still somehow embedded in this culture in a way that we have yet to see made manifest since. Perhaps one of the most prolific comments of Dr. Thompson's prose came from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas as he chased the fading image of the American Dream:

"And that, I think, was the handle - that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of old and evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn't need that. Our energy would simply prevail. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave. So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look west, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark - that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back."

Where did that go? That inconceivable energy that allowed people to completely defy conventionality and reject what they knew in their hearts to be wrong. Perhaps a better question is where did the testicular fortitude to muster such epic courage manifest itself in the first place? Who can say for sure? I am not for one second going to sit here and say that every dope smoking, plain-clothes, commune dwelling, hippie of the 60's was a soul-crusader for the forces of good, but more of them were than anybody really acknowledges. Behind the veil of what is now a legendary usage of drugs and sexual overindulgence we have such free-wheeling and dangerous ideas as civic equality and proper rights of suffrage and that is topped off by one of the most unified anti-war movements of modern time. Some of the most brilliant writing ever committed to page, and some of the most inspirational words ever committed to song were penned. Some of the most brutal beatings and shootings took place on this soil since the Civil War, not because of the numbers of people that suffered but primarily the methods and reasons for the outbreaks of violence. What an incredible period of history.

This is my parents' generation. This was only one lifetime ago. If I could still talk to my grandfather, he would be able to tell me of a time in Georgia, where I myself have lived, where people of my skin tone would be forced to drink from a different water fountain, purchase a different quality of grocery, and generally submit to a lesser way of life for absolutely no reason. It was not until a bunch of people who were labeled lunatics with crazy clothes started clogging up city streets, waving banners, and generally causing an amazing amount of ruckus that anything changed. And these were supposed to be the crazy ones. Ridiculous.

Yikes! What the hell has my generation accomplished to compete with this? I sat in a room with my collegiate peers all of whom I greatly respect and with whom I have shed blood, broken bread, and imbibed good port on a cold night in Syracuse, NY during the 2004 race for the President of the United States. At this point, the economy was already on the decline, we were fighting a war that we had already declared victory on in May and yet in which we were somehow still mysteriously spending a reported $12 billion dollars a month (none of which was regulated and accounted for by mandate of our White House and the United States Department of Justice). Yet the majority of these men who I knew to be intelligent human beings whom I would have most likely given my life had the need presented itself, argued against my proposals that A.) The war in Iraq needed to end and was largely unnecessary. B.) George W. Bush is a shameful excuse for a human being and should be counted lucky to not be tarred, feathered and driven from the land in the most expedient nature possible, let alone be in contention for a second term in the most powerful branch of government that our country has to offer.

I sit here four years later saying not saying "I told you so" but literally in a state of disbelief and borderline chronic disappointment. Who the hell cares about being right in a situation like this? I never wanted to see people suffer the way they are now and for what? What have we accomplished? Who can sit in their homes with the way things are in this country and with the shame has been brought upon whatever nation in which you reside in the majority of this decade and say that they are honestly proud of their citizenship and what it represents with the current state of affairs.

It may seem odd that I'm thinking these thoughts after the results of the most recent election. A black man was appointed the position of the President of the United States, and for that piece of progress I cannot claim to be unmoved. However my dismay primarily stems from the lack of vision of the generation to which I belong. The stagnation of motivation may have taken place long ago at the end of the sixties but there is no excuse for it, just as there was no excuse for the wrongdoing that excited those protesters to stand up, act, and believe in something that was far greater than what any of the members of that movement were on an individual level. John Mayer has been singing that "One day our generation/is going to rule the population/So we keep on waiting/Waiting on the world to change." I think he got it wrong. The people that have made a difference in this world never waited for the world to change. They couldn't wait. They were inspired to do something about the things they knew were wrong. My distress comes from looking around and seeing a people that seems broken and bereft of the spirit to act similarly. In the wake of one of the most destructive presidencies in the history of this country that has left this nation in shambles there is no uproar, there is no backlash, there are few demonstrations, there are no inquiries.

We are complacent, we are subdued, we are decidedly un-American. Why is that? I feel as though it has become time to re-acquaint myself with the decline of the American Dream. I want to understand this misplaced sense of my inexplicably serene generation that for some reason is sitting idly by in the midst of countless acts of outrageous absurdity.