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m u s i c. m i s c h i e f. a r t. |
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VANITY FAIR ESSAY (con’t) <<<previous Page 2 of 2
On the media front, free speech lives on, despite the behemoth corporate media giants that threaten to squash every still small voice with something passionate to say. Suddenly blogs are everywhere, as are citizen advocacy groups like MoveOn.org and Common Cause, who’ve given up the protest sign for well-worded emails that have politicians of all stripes squirming. Everywhere one looks, creativity runs rampant in ways it never has before, even if your art of choice is creating a new home-based business using Amazon or eBay. Chances are, though, you’re playing your electric guitar, editing home movies, sewing or knitting a new garment, or starting that new watercolor, all while watching a fun cooking show. Games are a gas, and we love our pop music as much as we ever did, but certainly not more than television, which seems to have entered another golden age, with its plethora of savvy crime dramas, guilty-pleasure reality shows and edgy comedies that all seem to grow exponentially every season. When it comes to T.V., more seems to be more, and the pie just keeps getting bigger. That’s good news to the elderly or infirm who, because of the enormous expanse of our land, are often separated from family and friends due to opportunities or jobs hundreds of miles away that are just too good for children and grandchildren to resist. To these gentle folks, T.V. is a companion and a friend, and they’re glad to have it.
It really comes down to this—that if we’re feeling disconnected and overwhelmed by our current so-called reality, it’s not because we’re playing too many videogames or spending too much time on the computer. It’s because we’ve shunned the basic reality that so many Americans have had such difficulty grasping for so long, which is that we have to figure out why we’re here, and why we’re here now, on this earth. We have to reconcile the essential reality that we’re all going to die, and no matter how many distractions we create nor how many countries we invade, this will not change. If we can surrender and accept our doomed fate gracefully and with aplomb, so many of the answers we seek will be laid out before us and be made as plain as the rocks in the road. All it will take, as truly difficult as this may be, is to vow that from this day forward, we’ll enter every room, particularly the rooms in the United Nations, with a wink and a smile instead of a shrug and a snub, be us politicians or ordinary citizens, friends or enemies, lovers or fighters, rich or poor, frightfully glamorous or as dull as lead.
Intention matters, as do our words, such as “I will,” “I promise” and “I hope,” even if all you can muster are pledges to your newly adopted cat. Do that and feel your reality expand. Shortly after Hope came to live with me, I’d gotten news that the only girl in her litter of four had finally been given a name—Mayhem. Had I’d adopted her instead, this might have been an entirely different essay.
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