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    Why is American society such a mess? It’s simple: We have never really been We.

No Trespassing Sign
I can understand the sentiment, but I think I’d dial it back a touch, personally.

Civil disobedience is not our problem. Our problem is civil obedience. Our problem is that people all over the world have obeyed the dictates of leaders … and millions have been killed because of this obedience…. Our problem is that people are obedient all over the world in the face of poverty and starvation and stupidity, and war, and cruelty. Our problem is that people are obedient while the jails are full of petty thieves … (and) the grand thieves are running the country. That’s our problem.

— Howard Zinn, Failure to Quit

The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.

— Edmund Burke

Start: Assuming there is some consciousness to the Universe that perceives us as we truly are, this in itself would be proof of its unconditional love. If the underlying intelligence of the Universe didn’t regard us with the proverbial patience of saints, it seems pretty clear to me we would have been toast millennia ago.

If we take any significant amount of time to really examine legislation in the docket for either the House or Senate of the United States, we can’t help but find ourselves clenching our fists white in moral outrage. Personally — and I know I am not unique in this, in just my immediate family alone — I can only look at so many of the issues our legislature is hell-bent on creating for our country (and the world) without seriously wondering if I will lose my sanity.

And the relentless growth of this ethical cancer is not limited to just our government, or governments in the world, or global corporatism, or despotic leaders in remote corners of far away lands —
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    A brief examination of maturity, consideration, and a self-imposed communication gap.

Some immature fun on the job
“You’re really not going to leave that rubber ducky in there, are you?”

Start: I‘m not talking to you.

If you’re the guy — and you’re probably a guy — that woke me up at 4:30 in the morning because you needed your tunes to start the day and set off three car alarms when you turned on your audio system, I’m not talking to you.

If you’re the person sitting in your car outside my apartment window screaming into your cell phone because the other person can’t hear you over your own boomcar music, I’m not talking to you.

If you’re the person who filled my email box with offers for Viagra or how to enhance my manhood, I’m definitely not talking to you.

If you’re the guy who peed on the toilet seat at the restaurant, casino, in the office, or the government building, I’m not talking to you.

If you’re the person who calls anyone an idiot who believes in a Higher Power, I’m not talking to you.

If you’re the person who condemns someone to Hell because that someone doesn’t believe in exactly the same God you do, I’m not talking to you.

If you’re the person who parked in the Fire Lane, potentially obstructing the efforts of emergency workers should the unthinkable happen, because you couldn’t be bothered to walk a few yards, I’m not talking to you.

If you’re the person who parked in the handicapped spot without a permit and made my wife walk several hundred more feet simply out of your selfishness, I’m not talking to you.

If you’re the person who jumped in front of me in the aisle while I was pushing my wife on one of those days when she needed her wheelchair, I’m not talking to you.

If you’re the person who charged me $780.00 for auto work that I not only didn’t need but that you didn’t do anyway, I’m not talking to you.

If you’re the guy weaving in and out of traffic, endangering everyone in sight because of some testosterone-driven need for adrenaline, I’m not talking to you.

If you’re the person who destroys anyone who gets in your way at work with whatever leverage you can scrounge up, I’m not talking to you.

If you’re the person who plays the race or sexist card to get ahead over anyone, I’m only talking to you at gunpoint.

I’m not talking to you because what is painfully obvious to me is completely alien to you, so alien that we might as well be on two different planets.

I’m not talking to you because you wouldn’t understand what I have to say to you, and I’m sure I’m not the only one.

Maybe the day will come that your bluff has been called, or your crime has been discovered, or fate has caught up with you and dealt you a card you can’t throw away.

Maybe the day will come when you look at your first mugshot.

Maybe the day will come when you look in the mirror, or look face first into that abyss in your own soul and you’ll see what you really are.

I pray this day comes for you, and that it comes for you soon.

Then maybe you’ll start having a meaningful talk with yourself.

And maybe you’ll start talking to me.

Then I’ll talk to you.

 

Copyright © 2009, by Daniel Brenton. All Rights Reserved.

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