WEC: A Good Thing?

WEC: A Good Thing?
Aman Bloom, ©2009, Grahamstown, South Africa


Maybe it’s a good thing, this worldwide economic collapse.

I don’t mean just the ‘opportunity in adversity’ notion, which I’ve often maintained. Much like the charlatan behind the screen wildly controlling the buttons and buzzers, the so-called Wizard of Oz, obfuscating the actual scene with semi-skillful use of smoke and mirror, this exposure and collapse have revealed the actual lack of efficacy, insight, deliberation, care and concern of the harbingers of economy, the brokers and investors, the connivers, the vampires of finance… ‘Crooks’ may be too decent an epithet (Nixon was not a crook, he insisted. No, he also wasn’t that good.)

These are people who held an imperious confidence in their own abilities, not only to create handily the double-deal, but to extricate oneself through fancy dancing and ‘bundling’ from any bungle, scare or whoa, any shift in expectation –even though expectation was sabotaged by their connivances, made redundant through their extremes— or through the occasional intrusion of, hmmm, an unplanned inconvenient war or nasty natural disaster.

Mendacity. Not a big town in the UAE…

If it weren’t for Bush, we wouldn’t have Obama. I don’t mean just the US; I mean the world. Maybe other ‘Obamas’. i.e., honest, decent public servants will have a chance of running other major governments. Not that governments will be able to resolve our current concerns, but at least perhaps they’ll be less in the way or on the wrong side.

Come-uppance. Like even though my fist hurts after I smack someone in the face, at least he’s hurting more, and for longer. Yes, though they’re still managing to get their undeserved bonuses or severances, to keep the unnecessary extra cars and homes and trophy brides (just you wait!), yet the face in the mirror has changed and there’s some certain satisfaction for me in that. My fist hurts, yes, but just look at that face!

More importantly, this is just the beginning. More than the follow-up to the Savings & Loan debacle (also a Bush-ism), from the Enron scandal, the dot-com bust (they made out on that one, too, didn’t you know?), Halleburton’s record profit, from now on, at least, they will be watched, they won’t be trusted or allowed to wander. Ubiquitous and resistant, ensconced and immutable, like guard dogs that might turn on their master, they will be chained. Unfortunately, we the people seem still to rely on the services of governors and the press, hardly our allies anymore.

Revolution, anyone?

Against, or for, whom or what? There’s the present quandary. All the people to whom we would normally go for aid and advice are suspect. Even we ourselves are so dulled and propagandized we can’t see beyond the envelope, the cage, the system. Nature doesn’t write it in the clouds. Anymore. We’ve lost our base and our direction. The sextant is rusted! It’s a good day to die.

Well, at least it’s a good day…

Holy, sacred Nature is indeed still calling. The answers to predicament are all writ in her journals. She is still within each of us, perhaps buried under a ton of carbon, a block of books, a pile of cares.

This means nothing to those who refuse to trust themselves, who seek relief outside or above or from those who claim to still know, though we all can see that their ideas are old (not ancient), tired, reworked from failure, or based on vain belief and blind faith.

I, for one, don’t know what to do, except to continue what I’ve been doing. Question authority, subvert the dominant paradigm, invent considerations, acquire skills, drive my plow o’er the bones of the dead, see no colour, honour diversity, live simply…

All homilies, I agree.

With Respect, Grace, Patience.