Thirteen years ago, I discovered
a place where I could indulge my compulsion to splatter words on blank pages—the
internet. Specifically, I stumbled upon
the Petri dish containing the tiny zygote which would eventually become the
blogoverse—AOL Journals.
It was September of
2003. I was completely stoked that I had
found a place I could record my challenges
associated with “coming to terms with middle age” (I was 48 years old!); and—wonder
of wonders—other people could read,
react, provide input…make me feel as if I wasn’t the freak I had always felt
myself to be. I was hooked.
And, yes…it WAS September of
2003. So the deadly nature of what was
going on in our country was loud enough to penetrate the voices inside my head…and
become one of them. A stolen
election. A horrendous national tragedy. The politics of fear, division and lies that
eventually led to an illegal war and a degeneration of our national principals
to the point that We The People gave the nod to any means available—including torture,
illegal imprisonment, and utter disregard for “collateral” death and destruction—to
keep us “safe.”
I discovered I had a previously
untapped talent for political commentary. Which quickly became a compulsion. I was physically unable to allow what was
going on in the USA to transpire without comment. And without raising a regiment of red
flags.
I made my first post of a political nature on October 5,
2003. It was a short (they all had
to be short, back then—with the 2000-character limit imposed upon us by AOL)
commentary about the political goings-on in California, starring Republican Arnold
Shwarzeneggar in the recall of Democrat Gray Davis. I got no comments on that one…as I frequently
did not on my political posts. But it
didn’t seem to matter. The compulsion to
comment and warn took root and grew.
Over the next twelve years,
my internet musings upon the challenges facing an aging Baby Boomer were
interspersed with peppery political commentary.
I wrote volumes before the 2004 presidential election; and continued,
even through the insanity of my sortie into the minefield of entrepreneurship, to
comment on things political through the 2008 and 2012 election cycles. Things were happening that demanded
notice. It was important to comment. I could no more keep my thoughts to myself
than I could stop breathing.
Anybody who reads this blog
must notice, then, the marked absence of political posts here at “Coming to
Terms” this election cycle. Surely the
hideous mess with which we are now presented should be inspiring volumes of
commentary from folks like me. Surely
there is enough insanity out there to wring at least one scathing commentary a
day—even one an hour—from my prophet’s
heart. And yet, I have been largely
silent.
Why? Because it’s just NOISE. Noise coming from everywhere, all directions,
louder and louder, shriller and shriller.
The ugly, crushing roar of an angry mob. Two sides holding their hands
over their ears and screaming curses at each other. A
soul-shriveling racket…that produces no results.
No advice is heeded. No warnings are acknowledged. No pleas for sanity are recognized. It all becomes swallowed up in the noise;
becoming itself part of the discordant symphony…only adding to the hideous,
deadly cacophony.
I can’t do it anymore. I can’t be part of that time bomb that will
surely destroy us all if it doesn’t somehow fizzle out of its own accord. Because I can’t stop it. I don’t think anyone—any person—can.
And don’t think it isn’t
painful for me to stay silent. The
danger is so much more grave, the stakes are so much higher, this time
around. But the ceaseless noise has
effectively silenced my voice. As I go
through my day, I think of a hundred talking points, come up with dozens of
arguments, envision a kaleidoscope of debate scenarios through which I might
get through to those who will not think but will only follow. And then I sit down with my laptop at the end
of the day, stare at the blinking cursor at the top of the page and write…nothing. Because I know it would be pointless. I know that all it would do is add to the
miasma of negativity and contentiousness that has already swallowed us. And that, I refuse to do.
So, for what it’s worth, here
is my last bit of advice, the last word out of the prophet’s mouth, concerning
the coming election:
Vote. If you have already chosen your candidate—and
I’m pretty sure that most people who intend to vote this cycle have already
chosen their poison—keep your peace and mark an “x” in the proper box on
November 8th (if you haven’t
yet been stripped of that right…) Make
your choice and SHUT THE FUCK UP. All
the words, pictures, videos, brain-droppings that you can possibly put out
there are not going to change anyone’s mind, are not going to win people over
to your side. People have made their
choices, and they are as adamant and unshakeable about them as you are about
yours.
And if you feel that you have
to dig up, make up, blow up, or otherwise broadcast filth about the “other side” in
order to justify your own choice, maybe you need to rethink your personal selection process.
I’m done.
