Here is a NEGATIVE example of change:
The last time I saw Richard was Detroit in '68
And he told me all romantics meet the same fate someday
Cynical and drunk and boring someone in some dark cafe
You laugh he said you think you're immune
Go look at your eyes they're full of moon
You like roses and kisses and pretty men to tell you
All those pretty lies pretty lies
When you gonna realise they're only pretty lies
Only pretty lies just pretty lies
He put a quarter in the Wurlitzer and he pushed
Three buttons and the thing began to whirr
And a bar maid came by in fishnet stockings and a bow tie
And she said "Drink up now it's gettin' on time to close"
"Richard, you haven't really changed" I said
It's just that now you're romanticizing some pain that's in your head
You got tombs in your eyes but the songs you punched are dreaming
Listen, they sing of love so sweet, love so sweet
When you gonna get yourself back on your feet?
Oh and love can be so sweet Love so sweet
Richard got married to a figure skater
And he bought her a dishwasher and a coffee percolator
And he drinks at home now most nights with the TV on
And all the house lights left up bright
I'm gonna blow this damn candle out
I don't want nobody comin' over to my table
I got nothing to talk to anybody about
All good dreamers pass this way some day
Hidin' behind bottles in dark cafes dark cafes
Only a dark cocoon before I get my gorgeous wings and fly away
Only a phase these dark cafe days
Copyright © 1970; Joni Mitchell
I've heard this damned song over a hundred times, and it still makes me cry.
Perhaps you find a lot of Ms. Mitchell's material just too depressive, especially if you've never been an alcoholic or an addict. Where this piece really gets me lies in that last verse. Both of her characters are stuck in the same prison, using alcohol to tack their boats against the winds of change; their circumstances only look different on the outside.
And, of course, the dissipation continues all the while; it's only a slower and more insidious form of change.
That's the plight of eternal dreamers, in a nutshell.
Nutshell = nut's hell.
And American Dreamers are eternal dreamers. Y'all know the word for it by now, so say it with me: DENIAL.
Think of it this way: W is a fundamentalist dry-drunk dreamer whose administration has leveraged his privilege to create more negative change, arguably, than any other in American history. Now, the four oldest Justices are liberal thinkers. God help us if we put another Republican into the Oval Office. Do you want to see a real nut's hell? Just wait until the Supreme Court is stacked with conservative thinkers for the next several decades. You can kiss goodbye whatever remains of your already-reamed civil liberties.
So, yes, I'm suggesting that you choose the lesser of two evils. Obama is certainly a pretty man to tell you pretty lies (after all, he is a lawyer), but he is still our best shot at undoing the current administration's heinous damages to our civil liberties. (The war in Iraq will probably continue regardless of who gets the gavel.)
Now, no one who is reading this is likely to suffer more under one or two terms of Democratic rule than she is under a Republican heir to the current nut's hell. In the bargain, we might get a couple of new Justices on the Supreme Court who will sometimes rule in the best interest of the individual, rather than the corporation. That's the real reason to vote for a President.
"Only a phase these dark cafe days" is an expression of hope and futility. Optimism or wishful thinking? We sell off the present in the belief of a better future. In a nut's hell, this is the concluding message of THE GREAT GATSBY by F. Scott Fitzgerald. He would know; he was an alcoholic. And I think that's exactly where this nation is at this orgastic moment in history. "Orgastic" is the word Fitzgerald coined to describe an orgy of spending. But whether it's balling or malling, it all leads to exhaustion at some point. And thus we are enmeshed in the big-box paradox we've built: Pandora is vast. And microcosmic.
Are you out shopping for a home in the current foreclosure-glutted market? Take it from one realtor who spoke off the record: "Home" is a high-gloss box that rusts in the rain. You can't take it with you. Remember the moral of a different song, a much simpler one: "The cheese stands alone." And the bank is where they keep the cheese. What's a bank, then? Just a big, cold box.
So more about high-gloss boxes: It really doesn't matter whether we're talking about buying a new house or a new large-screen TV. Did any of you just get reamed yet again by technology "upgrades"? I'm talking about big-box Wal-Mart's switch from HD DVD to Blu-Ray.
That's the kind of bait and switch, negative change you can expect more of as long as you'll put up with it.
Society is an addict. We've been bred for it. How long will you wait to bottom out?
Here are a few ideas to get you off the gloss and on the road to recovery:
Blog Action Day Post: Consumption
Uncomplicate My Life, part one
Uncomplicate My Life, part two
Wishing you a beautiful day,
Bill Brent
[this page last updated: 2008.03.02, 8:25 p.m. Hawaii time]
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