Within
The Gated Subdivision
Of The American Mind:
A Monument To My Comfort Zone
By Phil Rockstroh
18 September, 2006
Countercurrents.org
"Mrs. O'Kelly, do you believe in fairies?" "No, I
don't -- but they're there." -- Irish aphorism
There is something missing in
The Oakdale Estates subdivision. Oak Trees. Years ago, they were cut
down to clear the property for development.
Is it possible the gated
walls of Oakdale Estates are fitted with impenetrable irony shields?
There is something missing,
as well, here in The United States of America -- Land of The Free. Freedom.
Where are our much-vaunted
freedoms in the present day United States? Are they, perhaps, hidden
among the phantom oaks of Oakdale Estates?
Sadly, it appears, for a
depressingly large percent of our citizenry, the loss of our rights
and liberties are missed and remembered to the same extent as the felled
trees of Oakdale Estates.
At morning, during their
commute to work, the residents of Oakdale Estates sit, stranded in traffic,
on ever more congested "freeways"; they, as is the case with
most of us, remain steadfast in our fantasy that automobiles provide
us with freedom. Rarely do we consider the fact that, in all likelihood,
a bank or finance company owns the vehicles, while, in order to meet
our loan payments, we must continue to work ever-longer hours and spend
evermore time stuck in those self-same vehicles, in order to reach the
jobs that devour evermore of our "free time," so that we can
afford to pay the exorbitant price the "freedom" to "own"
an automobile allegedly bestows upon us.
If this is our standard of
freedom: Is it any wonder far too many Americans still believe that
our soldiers are dying daily in Iraq to "keep us free?"
Perhaps, if we look closely,
we can catch a glimpse of the freed souls of the war dead...now lounging
in the cool shade of paradise beneath the trees of Oakdale Estates.
For we Americans will think
of our war dead, often. Yes, of course, we will...about as often as
the residents of Oakdale Estates think of the dispatched oaks.
And we Americans will mourn
the dead of the war in Iraq...to the same degree we mourn the loss of
our right to dissent. But rejoice: We're free to continue working for
the freedom to be owned by the corporate class.
Moreover, our soldiers are
free to continue to kill and be killed for our right to be oblivious
to their deaths.
This is the best of all possible
worlds, in the best of all possible lands -- why would anyone ever raise
a harsh voice in protest against it in the first place? If you lament
our losses, then the terrorist will have won. Can't you see: Unlike
the terrorist, we have the freedom to choose to lose our freedoms and
not give a damn. And that is why they hate us.
It's the reason we must hate
them, in turn. It's why our soldiers must find them, face them, and
then kill them, without question, doubt nor equivocation. It's why George
W. Bush, when it was his time to serve, went, with unwavering resolve,
and faced down (make that: went face down into) blizzards of Columbian
babble powder. It's why we must never cease to mindlessly labor for
the benefit of the corporate classes and never question the sanity of
why we believe the act of living far beyond our means is a meaningful
way of life. It's why it's our patriotic duty to seek perpetual distraction
within the media hologram.
In the end, it's because:
If we were to feel the sorrow of the world, then our soldiers will have
died in vain. They must die so that our comfort level can be maintained.
In turn, we must do our part and strive to remain comfortable.
They should erect war memorials
in honor of us Americans here on the home front: a statue depicting
us...sprawled on our sofas, TV remote fixed in our hands, steely in
our resolve to remain distracted.
But, for the present, we
must not waiver from our mission. Our foes are legion. Vast armies of
awareness must be ignored into oblivion.
The treachery of this enemy,
also known as Awareness, is not to be underestimated; for it exists
to destroy our way of life and it must be met with resolute ignorance
and unflagging indifference.
After the long commute home
from work, the residents of Oakdale Estates might, like many of us,
sit at the dinner table in exhausted silence or, have their minds further
churned to spittle, staring stupefied at the television.
If I was seated, among them,
I'd be tempted to ask an intemperate question, addressing it to the
whole miserable family of the present day United States - to all of
us - to my collective family - we - suburban somnambulants, urban careerist
cretins, Fundamentalist Christian fantasists, neo-con pendants, polite
liberal ninnies, vapid trendies, hipster ironists (I plead guilty and
offer this piece of writing as evidence against myself), right-wing
bullyboys and girls, and all those laboring class masses of wage slaves
who've been rendered mindless, by way of exhaustion from long work hours
and endless bombardment by the mass media. I wish to ask this: Who is
missing from our dinner table? Who hasn't been extended an invitation?
Who has been disinherited? Where are the black sheep of the family --
those members neither invited nor spoken about (in a similar manner
as those aforementioned dead soldiers, Iraqis, and oak trees) when our
clan gathers? What of the inspired misfits, indomitable freaks, defiant
outcasts, and magnificent failures -- the sorts who might broach uncomfortable
topics, reveal family secrets, or too vividly display our flaws? Where
are those who have been cast out, orphaned from our family, and therefore,
who, like a tragic hero from myth, are free to blunder upon unbearable
truths. Where are the scorned and forsaken ones? All those banished
from our thoughts, because they see our family for what it is, not what
it strives to appear to be.
We need these wayward members
of our family now, more than ever. For this reason: As is the case with
nature herself, a nation needs its mutant strains of innovative freaks,
because, by introducing variation, they have the ability to transform
the closed, negative entropy-generating genetic systems on this inbred
planet. Thus, they enable life to diversify and flourish.
In this manner, we might
avoid the fate of becoming a global clan of thin-blooded, wall-eyed
trailer court imbeciles. Perish the thought of: Planet Alabama. Though
it might already be too late. How else can we explain the Bush presidency?
This is why we must perpetrate
acts of everyday antagonism; why we must not supplicate ourselves before
the bloodless gods of false propriety; why it's imperative we rage and
weep at the memory of squandered oak trees, dead soldiers, and forsaken
freedoms.
Now is not the time for paeans
to the polite and appropriate. Systems (including empires) don't collapse
in a polite and decorous manner. The Second Law of Thermodynamics is
one rude bastard. Negative entropy did not attend the finest finishing
schools and will not be presented to genteel society in an elegant debutante
ball.
There are harrowing reasons
for our fear-engendered obduracy and compulsive complicity. For deep
within the gated communities of our minds, we Americans know this: That
if we continue to ignore the storm gathering outside the insular subdivisions
of our cultural awareness, then those who survive us on this abiding
earth will remember us and grieve our passing to the same extent the
residents of Oakdale Estates mourned the memory of its namesake oak
trees.
Phil Rockstroh, a self-described,
auto-didactic, gasbag monologist, is a poet, lyricist and philosopher
bard living in New York City. He may be contacted at: [email protected].