yardsticks, eight balls and an hourglass
31 December 2009 § 7 Comments
All rolled into one, we have a contraption worthy of the Wizard of Oz. Walk into the great hall, and you will be presented your Future on a rusty platter, and it will be full of wonder and meaning and band-aids. Toss in a few drinks, a low-class graffiti assault on a college town, and a horror film scored in bluegrass, and we have our new decade rolling around in style. I can’t say I expected anything more.
But right then, enter the spade: Focus. It’s still the new millennium, even if there are semi-coherent little beings running around that never saw the 90’s. Like our century old counterpart, there are vast amounts of people that still remember the Beatles and the Vietnam war – oh, sorry, ‘conflict’ – like the last time ’10 rolled up in a brand new automobile, people had life-defining memories of the American Civil War, Mark Twain, and the last time being a poet was an economically viable position in society.
With the new decade coming in, I declare this: I was born in the wrong century.
But I can’t do anything about that now. It baffles me that if time travel were somehow figured out and used, people would use it for things like winning the lotto and trying to convince their former selves to not marry that lunatic (hey buddy, all your family and friends tried to tell you; you didn’t listen, so it’s on you) instead of using it wisely – to genuinely become a part of another society in pursuit of learning from them and to live a life much more suited to this individual. In fact, that should be a rule: one way tickets only – no funny business, for this is a damn important enterprise, and no one but you cares if you win the lotto tomorrow.
Nevertheless, I will document this century with every bit of horror and destitution I can replicate, which shouldn’t be hard because world peace is not profitable, and without mindbending weapons of intellectual destruction (i.e. iPods, GPS, republicans, twitter, democrats, reality television, etc.), we shall conquer the paradigm that has become our vulnerability, that element in our society that makes Ayn Rand’s ‘Anthem’ as relevant as it is – call it what you like, for it has many names, and they are not all pretty in black lace and red velvet.