Once thing I always wondered about the expression “going to hell in a hand basket” is well wouldn’t the basket burn up and if the ride is long wouldn’t you want a bigger one?
Saying the left is organized is a bit like saying “anybody can be president in America”, the game is rigged but we like to pretend it isn’t. In darker moments, I think the right will always be deluded dancing to a frantic tune and the left will be too busy having a food fight to notice that the roof caved in, the levees broke, and the oxygen in the air disappeared and middle America will be demanding that the “end times” be made into a reality show with really good looking participants. The organized right isn’t really interested in educating and teaching one another which is why they can march like humanoid tin soldiers to the most ridiculous tunes and make it seem and after thought.
On the left people actually want to try and understand one another from an individual and group identity point of view which is why they sputter into verbal cage fighting at times.
Good people will disagree and good people will act like jerks to one another because while we might all admire Gandhi and other peaceful mentors: we aren’t. What is that old cliché: it is easier to ask forgiveness that permission. The problem is we end up assuming others will forgive us when we should have asked for permission and suddenly everybody has a scorecard, a list, a legitimate list, whereas on the right if you inadvertently fuck over or hurt somebody you used to like God is going to take care of it in the end so why worry?
And if we are all going to hell in a hand basket despite noble efforts we might want to think about we we go there with, the next door neighbor who invokes a slur to explain how he got a good deal on a car, or somebody who decided to stumble like a happy drunk after a dream everybody said was silly and unattainable?
If the “real world” was so fantastic and fulfilling 24/7, most of us wouldn’t be here. Now, I am not complaining about the existential wasteland of my life. I am relatively privileged. I have been on the other side, at least economically, and it wasn’t fun. I was lucky as opposed to being smart and innovative. Scores of smart and innovative people never get the luck I have had which is why I generally ascribe any small victories in my own life to fate.
Some folks fold under confrontation, some are rather good at it, some prefer to chose their battles, some are ready, some are not. The clever man with the admirable skills of a seasoned parliamentarian just happens to have mastered a technique. He isn’t better, wiser, or anything in the end than his less articulate brother.
It can be wearisome when you’re the teacher and the students claim they are open to something new and it turns out they are still afraid and stuck in old patterns. It can be wearisome when you’re the student and you think you’re ready and you disappoint yourself with the embarrassing knowledge that you aren’t. In anger you might blame the teacher or the other students or you are too ashamed to admit you have failed in your quest to be the person you want to be.
It can be frustrating when question beget questions when what you thought was achingly clear isn’t. Maybe there aren’t answers, just questions that hover closer.
I have no idea.
Sometimes peace and unity looks an awful lot like a stale tasteless buffet that costs way more than you think it should.
Sometimes conflict causes a metamorphoses and others all it causes is a hangover.
You can get on the Love Train and get dumped…..
Being flawed is inconvenient. I know I have plenty of practice.