Someone posted this picture and quote on Facebook the other day, and I couldn’t help but repost it. Immediately. Because I’m just sick inside, and I honestly don’t think I’m alone.
Perhaps because I live a relatively closed off life, I think I see things differently. I see them just the way this astronaut saw them at that moment – from a place far removed from the turmoil in the trees, perched on a cliff far outside the forest. I see a bigger picture – one divorced from all the divisions among humankind as they proceed to screw up a perfectly good planet.
Understanding that I, too, am one of these humans, I am quite prepared to take responsibility for my part in all this. And since I am, it gives me the right to pose the same question to every one of my fellow humans.
Question one for you to ponder: Are all men created equal, as defined by either your Creator, your religion, your government or your constitution?
Well, no matter what camp you come from, if you are an authentic person, you really have to answer yes. Even an atheist will have to give biological credit to the function of the species. Every human is an amazing work of art; an amazing machine, and has a seeming limitless potential.
Then how is it we can give a mere pitiful glance in the direction of Somali parents having to abandon their dying children in the desert, and express pure outrage over someone wanting to take away your union’s collective bargaining rights?
How is it that we can eat our continental breakfast while reading about the riots in London, but press every panic button on the controls when a hurricane comes ashore and threatens our real estate?
How can we view a few losses to our portfolio as something on par with having no food, no water, no nation to call home?
Obviously, we are affected by what is in the sphere of our influence, the fabric of OUR lives. But the fact is that what we’ve all been trained to do now for the last generation or so in America is to believe that we are somehow more important than other people. Not just us as a nation – no – us individually. And while we are generous to a financial fault at “helping” these third world nations, we are not doing it because we think it’s really all that important, and we certainly don’t do it correctly. Doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to send Hitler some money to care for the Jews in the concentration camps, now, does it?
But let’s back up the train. Let me guess that you read this and find yourself exempt. No – not me! I am the epitome of a caring, Christian, loving, person, who cares about the world situation! Yeah…me, too. But honestly, I will be far more freaked out when my cell phone bill arrives with an extra $50 on it than I will be over reading about a widow who left two of her not-quite-dead children under a tree “to their God”, because she only had enough water for the baby on her hip.
This is simply not REAL to me. It’s not happening in my back yard – hell, it’s not even on my continent! If it happened in America, we would tell the bitch she had no excuse and we’d sic Child Social Services on her ass and throw her in jail! Why? Because we have access to things like, oh, food and water. When was the last time YOU were utterly grateful for that?
And now we have…Uh-oh…moral relativism. Is it EVER right to leave your sick, dying children under a tree and keep walking? Think with me now my logical friends: It will depend on the variables within the circumstances! One woman we want to embrace and comfort – the other we want to crucify and see burn in eternal hell. For the same act.
Now this is where I come in. I’m a writer. It’s what I DO. And what I can do within the scope of my art is generate feeling in you. I can write the above story in any setting I want, and I can make you mad as hell, or make you cry your eyes out. I can manipulate the words, the context, the quotes I use…the possibilities are endless to an author.
As such, however, I have to ask myself from time to time, “Am I being honest?” Is what I am writing serving a nobler purpose on the planet? Or am I just fearmongering? Am I spiteful, mean, arrogant, rude? Am I seeking to ruffle feathers or calm a sea? And it goes even further than that. Let me explain.
I spent 15 years separated from the main stream of society. I watched only Packer games on TV (as this was through the 90s, and they were winning). I was living a conservative, Christian, communal, self-sufficient lifestyle. I had a whole bunch of kids. We preached to a whole lot of other Christians. But we remained separate. I have always been a reader, but certain subjects are off-limits to a good, practicing Christian. So for years we dined on a smorgasbord of conservative, Christian literature and recorded media. A steady diet of the Bible and thou shalls and thou-shalt-nots.
Then, for reasons outside the scope of this writing, it fell apart and I found myself on the wrong end of the Christian gun. Imagine my dismay when I found that virtually everything we read, believed and lived was only one side of the picture.
“No excuse for divorce” doesn’t quite roll off the preaching tongue as well when you are the one who tripped and fell over a legitimate reason to end your marriage.
“Never a reason for abortion” comes looking for its validation when it’s YOUR kid that comes home raped and pregnant and says she doesn’t want to carry the child. Suddenly, YOU are the one accosted at the clinic for merely seeking information. It’s quite the mind-fuck to run into your past self on the picket line, let me tell you.
Oh – this list is endless. But you see, I read it, and I believed it. I swallowed it without chewing. I was, in fact, manipulated by the writings of others, owing to the fact that I never set foot in the “other camp”. All I knew about “them” was what I was taught about “them”, whoever “them” may be.
Love the episode of South Park (which, by the way, critical thinkers owe it to themselves to watch a few episodes, despite is crassness) where the neighborhood know-it-all confidently states, “Having never done drugs, I KNOW they are bad!”
I came to a realization that the mindset that shaped my life to that point has been myopic at best, and terribly judgmental and harmful at worst. It propagated an “Us vs. Them” mentality that truly has no place in the human world. We are ALL…US. And I also had to accept that my warped education had everything to do with a steady diet of the same stuff – day in and day out, wrapped in ever-so-humble packages of biased writings with God-credited jimmies sprinkled on top.
So let me ask you…how do you think that made me feel, knowing that I could be so snowed by what I read? What I ended up believing? We believe what we read, and we judge before we have all the facts, don’t we?
Lest you do not think this is true of yourself, let me ask you what your feelings are on the way the President is handling the current financial crisis we face? How about the stock market? How about Lindsay Lohan, or whatever fallen starlet is in the news this week? All I need to do is read some of the feedback on the news feeds to see that we all have developed an opinion, one way or another. But ask yourself – how did I come to this opinion? Do you KNOW Mr. Obama? Have you spoken with him? Did YOU get a chance to sit down and listen to him explain what he is or was thinking at any given time? I doubt it. Do you know if he’s a really upstanding guy with compassion, or an abject asshole? No – you don’t. You know only what you have been told. What you have read. If you read something from a supporting journalist, he’s the new Messiah. If you read something from the right, he’s the antichrist. The fact is, you do not have enough facts to know what his personal motives are for anything.
And the same is true for most of what you see, read, and hear in the media. And you have bought it. And you have sold it – on your Facebook pages, at your kitchen tables, to your children. My kids came home from school outraged about what Wisconsin Governor Scott Walker wanted to do with the unions to trim the budget. But did ANY of them even know how a union functions? Nope. But apparently their teacher did, and she let all of her students know that not only was SHE right, but that Scott Walker was wrong. About what, they weren’t quite sure, but the mood in school that day was dour, and therefore it HAD to be true.
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