I am an imposter driving my new 2015 Civic. Baltimore is angry and burning. I am an imposter driving my new 2015 Civic. Thousands dead in Nepal. I am an imposter driving my new 2015 Civic. Kurt Cobain is still dead and relevant. I am an imposter driving my new 2015 Civic while the toxic discourse in my country of origin erodes the very structure of ideals the country was built on.
Human failure, my failure.
Sitting in a generic corporate office, performing meaningless work for a corporation that is ignorant at best, malicious at worse. A corporation that, like many other corporations, will view this week as full of great marketing opportunities. Sitting in a corporate office, gutless. White male privilege benefiting me. I can be as insulated from the world as I want to be. I type this while listening to Killing Joke and the contradiction is not lost on me. But what good does recognizing them do? I'll end up getting a beer later tonight and maybe writing a harmless story. I'll be mad because I have to clean the litter box. I'll lie awake worried that I've failed in showing my children how to agitate for change. That things have been too safe for them. When does opportunity become complacency?
I am an imposter. I am safe and warm. I can take these events, intellectualize them and make them safe. I can throw them around my echo chamber. I can create a god and let him do the heavy lifting while I complain because my laptop broke and speculators ruin the vinyl market.
I like fire. Flames don't touch me.
So much I in this post. If I type I enough, will I hold myself accountable? There it is again.
Driving home in my new 2015 Civic I listened to the president denounce the protesters while birds chirped peacefully in the background. The radio host informed me the president was sitting in a lovely garden. And I thought, 40 miles from that garden a city is burning. I wondered what country he was president of. If the alternative to toxic discourse is dreamy condescension...should anyone be surprised cars are on fire?
Kurt Cobain's country became my country and they are the same. Not even the graffiti has changed.
I'm safe and warm and about to take dinner out of the oven. People in Nepal are sleeping on median strips. I will go to sleep in a comfortable bed with a mild case of heartburn. I will light a candle to reflect and meditate. In Baltimore they will light a police car.
I am an imposter.
I hear you, man, but you're very low on the imposter scale. Or, to put it another way, what does it mean to be authentic, then? I don't know. History's mostly made up of people who were just living their lives. Some of them had worse lots in life, some better. Are you going to hold yourself accountable for natural--or man-made--disasters that are a continent or a world away from you, literally or figuratively? Awareness of huge problems =/= ability to fix them. I think it's pretty easy to look back on the last 75 years at people who did more and wish we were doing more, but gross problems are a lot easier to identify, and (in some ways) to fix. Knotty problems are knotty.
ReplyDeleteAs always, thank you for your thoughtful comment. And I totally agree with "history's mostly is made up of people just living their lives." I'm not so much thinking about authenticity, and perhaps imposter was not the best word. Ghost is more accurate...I just use that term too much. I recognize a lot of contradictions in myself and I could stand to put myself more out than I do.
DeleteI've been haunted by the Montage of Heck documentary I saw Monday. Not because there is anything new in the story, but because of how much the world is...still the same, albeit with speedier technology. I'm having a hard time explaining it--and maybe I'll try to post on this--but there was something about seeing a bunch of punk graffiti in that film that really hit me: you don't even need to change the words. It's all still applicable. As a former angry young man, I don't always do this middle age so well...I get even more ticked off that the world isn't better, but I'm more aware of how my own complacency contributes. I happily accept my paycheck every other week. And...raising my kids to question and work for change is something I frequently fear I'm not doing well enough. I'm sure I'm hardly the only parent with that insecurity.
Knotty problems are knotty indeed!