Dear Nigel,
One of the things I was discussing with my philosopher when he died was: Does an empire become a caricature of itself before its fall?
I mean, Lil’ Caesar is still selling pizza. Pizza! Pizza!
They never recovered his phone after the crash so every once in a great while I still text him with holiday wishes or updates or a “Miss you, man.” I texted this morning for the first time in a couple years. This place is no mighty empire or anything, heck my country isn’t even three yet, but I promised him I’d check in with updates every now and then. We’re an infant country, as far as countries go. And it shows. This one’s not even three centuries old yet and is only now in transition from infantile diaper-soiling little shit to spittle-chucking self-centered bobble-headed toddler. We’re a cartoon country, toddling, and we love our govertainment. Make up! Spray me!
Pizza! Pizza! And a bag of chips.
We haven’t come that far at all yet. We have not yet realized anything close to a democracy, we have not yet achieved our founders’ vision for the place, but then it’s only been 250 years—I have books and music older than that—and already we forget that we’re supposed to be doing our part in trying to make it so; it has not been done for you already! Pay attention. If anything my country is clearly demonstrating how capitalism fails just like all the other -isms. Pick one, any one, they’d all work just fine if it weren’t for the same common denominator. Our current rendition of “capitalism” & “democracy” is– well, it’s a wonderful time to be alive as an observer and listener and writer of fairytales and fiction so I’m just going to stick to that and stay as far away as I possibly can from the flotsam, jetsam, and petty scum that bubble to “the top.” My doctor asked how many sit-ups does one have to do to keep that six-pack in shape. None. I laugh hard and often. If you want good abs, go to comedy night a couple times a week. I live in a comedy country, so good abs. We only have an outline on a concept, a concept that we are supposed to be making so. Didn’t anyone read Winnie-The-Pooh? We’re barely toddling yet compared to other greater nations and empires. We’re in the middle of our terrible twos. We’re whining like delusional and needy little tikes and we don’t even know what “united” is yet, and that’s only the first word. And nobody has any faith in anything unless it’s been institutionalized, politicized, or monetized or weaponized and can be manipulated; or has corporate sponsorship and a slogan. Nobody believes in anything, especially not in reading or learning or listening or remembering anything or in growing up and handling things. Already they forgot who “built this country” thus far. And what it’s built upon. What about foundation? Make up!
Pizza! Pizza! And a greasy box. Throw the dishes in the crib!
And I’m no babysitter. So I don’t waste time or contaminate my intellect with fourth-grade level political drivel and snot-slinging. I happen to be using it, my mind, and I require most of it to do my work. So I keep it free of insult and injury whenever I can. If education is waning or lacking then we’re free to self-educate. It’s a free country. Sorry, I haven’t had to pay any attention to politics around here since the 90’s and I haven’t missed a thing because by the 90’s the political scene of this past twenty years or so had already been written. Many times over. And I happen to read. So no surprise here, now, to me or to my philosopher. We already knew we were being “led,” if you want to call it that, by the very least of us. So where did you think we were going? Oh, Wal-Mart. Shoot, I just remembered I need an oil change. I’ll be commuting this semester and I have to get to the library once or twice a week. I have much more important things to think about than binary govertainment now as I’m at least five other things before I’m a citizen or patriot or expat of this cartoon country. I’m Earthing, for one. And some time after that I’m a human being. Well, I’m human anyhow. The state of “being” seems to mean a lot more to me than to the worms. I’m no babysitter and I don’t eat dirt. Not anymore.
Pizza! Pizza! Look at me, I’m free! But I’m allergic to milk and cheese now.
Would you save me a seat at the pub? I have another question.
Cheers,
-PSL
Photo by Park Troopers on Unsplash