Monday, April 03, 2006

From a whisper to a roar

But again, don't take my word for it. Listen.
Listen to the noise-makers, and see how few
seriously believe them these days, see how that
noise evokes an apathetic and ever-dulling
stereotyped response, adrenal fear/anger burnout,
"Yeah, whatever, yawn, same old same old."
Listen to the background instead, pay attention
to what's coming through the chinks in the wall.
Example: lotta buzz, these days, about "V for
Vendetta." Why is there such a buzz? Because it
should never have been made, and Everybody Knows
It. Ponder, just for a moment, the implications
of the motto "People should not fear their
governments--governments should fear their
people," appearing in front of God and everybody
on the teevee screen, where it might actually be
seen, by children or heart patients, actually
playing in a movie theater, with all its icky
anarchy and tinfoil battiness and all that, right
out where decent people can just go and watch it
if the mood strikes them, why, it's un-American.
This film is the fart at the tea party that
punctuates perfectly the pompous silliness of the
whole affair, and is to me the harbinger of the
Zeitgeist of the near future.
They pound little drums for Liberty all across
the planet, and slowly those drums are coming
into synchronization of their own accord,
converging on one single, pure harmonic, the low
seismic thrumming of Truth and self-fulfilled
prophecies that even the oblivious are feeling
and swaying to. These people are wise and canny;
they do not need the State, and feel no love for
it in their breasts, and will not be there to
prop it up when it begins to fall under its own
weight. And that is, perhaps, the greatest
danger they pose; that while they may not lift a
hand to harm they sure won't lift a hand to help,
that they will, at the very end, the last
extremity, that crucial hour when all good men
must come to the aid of their Crown so that the
unthinkable prospect of an outbreak of
uncontrolled human activity can be stifled, will
finally render unto those panic-stricken,
directive-spewing, impotent toadies of Caesar
begging for assistance and compliance just that
which is due them, the immortal wisdom of the fat
sage Cartman: "Screw you guys, I'm going home."

I raise my glass to the fat sage.

Damn, things is hotting up, ain't they.

Full essay.