Sometimes I think it’s mental. A figment of my wild imagination.
Almost two months have passed since June 21 and each evening is a steadily swelling pocket of dusk, each night grows darker and earlier than the previous. Two months of compounding darkness and one night, I come home on a Monday, and the world suddenly seems darker. Dusk seems murky and the sun flees the sky quicker and the deeply shadowed sky seems to portend doom and apocalypse. On evenings like this even sound seems to be muffled by the cottony folds of onrushing night. An oppressive mood dribbles down the gloomy walls of doom. Or is it that it’s Monday?
I log on to the wonderful worldwide web and I’m splashed with a dose of scalding worldwide despair instead.
Sometimes the news seems too much to contemplate.
Is it a congruent intersection of stories that provoke such alarmist tendencies?
Stories, news events, litter our cultural psyche, they clash on the world stage and create an grandiose sense of chaotic unease.
The collapse surrounds, people talk about it in cautious tones, I read about doomsday’s, I read about survival in such a lost world. And I find myself looking for signs and clues that the world is finally imploding. Imploding, for real. Not just that pseudo-Armageddon hysterical apprehension garbage, I’m talking the real deal. The crap that will touch our lives when it finally hits the fan. I don’t want to be alarmist, I hate alarmists because eventually, the wolf never appears. But there is a wolf. Tonight had the taste of alarm because Autumn is a little over a month away and the Earth is beginning its seasonal tilt away from the Sun’s warm light force and the cycle of life ebbs again. And always the darkness loiters near the pitch end of the road, waiting with a knowing smirk.
It all comes together.
Our national credit rating takes a sucker punch on a Friday news dump and not to be deterred, resurfaces today with the stern reminder that it is still there, lurking under our economic complacency. It points a finger at us and manifests its calamitous effect on Wall Street. And such was the descent’s nature that you can’t help but anticipate that tomorrow will simply pronounce a continuation of the story, not a recovery or rebound. The air is tinged with a sense of irrevocable collision. How far will the tendrils crawl in order to suck the life from our plastic prosperity? Our modern bliss has been exposed for the house of cards it really is and the past 3 or 4 years have slowly denuded our fanciful notions of materialism and conspicuous consumption. And I wonder…do we have it in our soul to clash with suffering as our forefathers did?
Then I read of riots in England and I marvel at the European capacity to foment mass street unrest over matters unrelated to sports. The last instance in this country of such unrest were the Rodney King riots which were largely fueled by ghetto angst and criminal opportunism, but which nevertheless issued a declaration regarding a perceived social injustice. That was almost 20 years ago and this country seems softer and more malleable now and I wonder if our youth has it in their heart to express any stringent sense of idealism now. Apathy and disinterest are etched in the character of our present society. This is a byproduct of the material excesses and paper prosperity of the last decade. We spoiled ourselves right into gluttonous oblivion. Just how far do we need to be knocked down to wake up again? Even the beaten dog is capable of baring its fangs. Do we have fangs or were they stolen (purchased) by the oligarchy who masterminded our 2008 collapse?
And the wild card story I keep hearing about concerns the homeless man in Fullerton, California, who was killed by a death squad of over-reactive cops defending their lives against the solitary underweight lunatic homeless man. What amuses me is that everyone involved in this incident of obscene police abuse was Orange County White! How fitting is that. The father of the homeless kid was a former police officer himself and his opinions of the police behavior that caused his son’s death sounded nothing short of a left-wing diatribe even though he is probably a card-carrying NRA/right-wing nut himself. The day our conservative white citizens begin to feel the pinch of police brutality and abuse of power is the day we must reconsider whose side the police are on now. The day your archetypal White OC Republican is as wary of the police as Black or Hispanic youths from South Central is the day you have seen the first stirrings of a government militia that has slowly lost its grasp of civil rights.
It is getting dark.