cruel summer

I’m hav­ing a lot of trou­ble cop­ing with the state of the world right now.

I don’t know how I can ever be tru­ly free or hap­py, know­ing that there are chil­dren locked in cages at the bor­der, gov­ern­ment of­fi­ci­at­ed mur­der­ers in the streets, and an en­tire slave pop­u­la­tion in prison – for “crimes” the up­per class ca­su­al­ly com­mits all the time.

Know­ing that there is a virus loose, that the rest of the world is at least try­ing to han­dle, and our news is telling peo­ple to just ac­cept it as a fact of life and get back to work, not be­cause it’s safe, but be­cause it helps the bot­tom lines of bil­lion­aires whose wealth makes all of our mon­ey and hard work worth less.

Peo­ple shout­ing “If you don’t like it, go some­where else!” when the price of trav­el is more than I’m legal­ly al­lowed to even have, and around the world even the most ad­vanced coutries still don’t ac­cept dis­abled peo­ple.

I hear all these claims that we are a Chris­t­ian na­tion, when it comes to a num­ber of high­ly spe­cif­ic things not giv­en men­tion in the Bible.

Yet Christ taught di­rect­ly, that those who do not care for the hun­gry, the sick, the home­less and im­pris­oned will be cursed and sent into eter­nal fire (Matthew 25:31–46).

Our so­ci­ety treats all of these peo­ple the very worst.

Where is the big an­gry out­cry over that?

Where are the gi­ant cor­po­rate lob­by­ists claim­ing a moral oblig­a­tion to make sure every­one is fed, housed, has health­care?

Where are the armed protests, the news cam­eras, the memes, the po­lit­i­cal fig­ures mak­ing grandiose promis­es?

When do we fi­nal­ly ad­mit that the way we treat the low­est – or least prof­itable, in this case – is a re­flec­tion of how we are do­ing as a whole so­ci­ety?

And how can I hope to carve out a life for my­self in a place where every­one is so self­ish?

Where I want so bad­ly to help, but am so short on re­sources that I can only af­ford to be self­ish my­self?

I don’t want to dis­tract or med­icate my­self away from it, as though my aware­ness of the sit­u­a­tion makes it only my prob­lem some­how.

I want some­one in pow­er to ac­tu­al­ly give a shit.

I want peo­ple to care about end­ing pover­ty, home­less­ness, and po­lice bru­tal­i­ty as much as they cared about fix­ing Notre Dame or get­ting just that one, lone Min­neapo­lis cop pros­e­cut­ed.

I want some­one to do some­thing that isn’t mere­ly per­for­ma­tive. For an of­fi­cial to pass leg­is­la­tion, not just put on a fan­cy scarf and paint some cute street mu­rals or what­ev­er. I want oth­ers to want to help, in­stead of most­ly in­sist­ing that noth­ing is ever their prob­lem or con­cern.

And I want the changes to ap­pear in re­al­i­ty, not just in writ­ing.

I wish “No jus­tice, no peace” could be a way of life, in­stead of some­thing we only do for a short minute be­fore burn­ing out, be­cause of the very in­jus­tices that keep us in that per­pet­u­al state of ex­haus­tion in the first place.

I don’t want to pas­sive­ly ac­cept or try to “see the bright side” of a dy­ing ecosys­tem full of ass­holes, re­fer­ring to the loss of lib­er­ty AS lib­er­ty, be­cause ap­par­ent­ly words don’t have mean­ings any­more.

I want to DO and BE bet­ter, and I want that for all of us. But right now, I am only one hu­man, and not a very ef­fec­tive one. It would seem that even the most ef­fec­tive of us, are strug­gling to main­tain, at the mo­ment.

Moved to a new place amid a pan­dem­ic. Pol­i­cy says every­one wear masks and keep dis­tance dur­ing main­te­nance calls.

Num­ber of re­pair men in­side our house so far: At least 8.
Num­ber of them wear­ing masks: 0.

Cus­tomer ser­vice reps are giv­ing me script­ed “in un­cer­tain times as these” speech­es, and I’m ask­ing that same ques­tion that is prob­a­bly on your mind if you’ve reached the end of this very long, an­noy­ing, rant:

Is there even a point?

 

—bwargh von mod­nar

Flom­mist Bwargh von Mod­nar is. Copy­right © 2020 Bwargh von Mod­nar.‬ I don’t know where the Maid­en­form thing came from. It was just one of my fa­vorite things on the in­ter­net five years ago to­day, ac­cord­ing to Face­book.

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