Thursday, March 27, 2008

Lee Greenwood can suck it.

Recently a friend of mine stated that he had about as much in common with someone from Kansas as he did with the average Iraqi, so why should he care about dead troops, when he should be more concerned about the loss of human life in general.  I agree, we shouldn't be so focused on the loss of "American" life, as to lose the bigger picture, which is the loss of life.  This got me thinking though, about an altogether different subject other than dead people, which, yes, I see.  With alarming regularity.  I started contemplating just what it is to be "American", to be "patriotic", to "be proud of your country".  
Let's start with patriotism, because that is a word that I absolutely despise.  Abhor.  Loathe.  Hate, even.  Lao Tzu, and I'm paraphrasing here, said that as a civilization declines, patriotism rises.  One only has to look at the current state of the Union to agree with that.  We had to give patriotism it's own act, for crying out loud.  I for one, think that ideological love for one's homeland is silly, bordering on dangerous.  Like a special needs kid playing with a lighter.  Chances are nothing will happen, but he just might figure it out enough to burn himself.  Or God forbid, start a fire.  Off topic here, but go back to those last two sentences and pretend the special needs kid is named, oh I don't know...George.  See where I'm heading with this?
What is it to be "American"?  To be white?  Middle class?  Some might argue that it is more American to be working class, but I doubt they have any idea how filthy rich our founding fathers were...  To be born here?  I happen to be all of those things (well, 'middle class' is a bit of a stretch.  I'm a fairly low-class individual.), but I certainly don't feel more "American" than the latinos I work with.  Less so, sometimes.  I'm just saying, is being "American" a set of guidelines, or is it more of a state of mind?  And if that is the case, I've met some Oregon hippies that are certainly not American.
Lastly, pride.  Beside the fact that it does indeed cometh before a fall, people have it spades when it comes to a particular hunk of dirt they call Home.  What I don't get is why.  Because my parents totally had sex in a small northern town in California rather than Canada (or Sri Lanka, or whichever country you feel like objectively inserting here), I'm expected to puff my chest and grunt "U.S.A!" every time the fourth day in July rolls around.  The mighty Mos Def once said that, "It ain't where you're from, it's where you're at."  And while I tend to agree somewhat with that, I would add this caveat- It ain't where you're from, or where you're at.  It's where you intend to go.
So no, I'm not a fan of patriotism, of being American.  I'm not proud of the United States.  I'd like to think there is more to me, much more than such small little coincidences that have collided into forming the big bang that is my life. 

Mundanity, an Ode

it seems ridiculous, really. the things we choose to occupy our lives with. i could go on some tangential argument about how we as a people need to wake up and make our lives matter every single day to the utmost and full, but sitting around writing about it seems a bit counterproductive if not downright hypocritical, when the writer (in this case, me) does not live so also. and i can honestly say that i for one, do not live my life to the point where every single thing i do extremely matters. and i'm fine with that. i've settled into my life of relative mediocrity and will admit with aplomb- i rather enjoy it. i've decided to take my life in an altogether new direction, and find joy in the mundane and trivialities of living. while my personal jury has still not definitively concluded whether or not this is a turn for the worse, i can be certain that it is one thing- a turn. and if one can make rather sudden and startling turns in their psyche at an age where they should be more or less set in their ways, well... i find that to be interesting. and particularly trivial in the grand scope of our world.  and that brings me joy

Easter Misgivings

remember when george w. bush stood on an aircraft carrier in a flight suit under a banner proclaiming, "Mission Accomplished"? 

well, independant reports now have the death toll of U.S. armed forces at over 4,000. that’s 4,000 young men and women who have lost their lives since bush declared victory. most of them were between the ages of 18-25. i don’t know what mission it is he thinks he accomplished, but i’d be willing to bet a significant portion of those 4,000 dead kids would beg to differ. this of course doesn’t even take into account the thousands upon thousands of soldiers who haven’t died, but were lucky enough to only loose a limb or two. it doesn’t include the young men and women who somehow survived after half of their faces were blown off. that nice round 4,000 number only counts those who are dead. 

the thought of that guy standing so smug on that ship makes me want to fucking puke. 

happy easter.