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Title: Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night? What Good Night?
Source:
Huffington Post
URL Source: [None]
Published: Feb 19, 2008
Author: Larry Miller
Post Date: 2008-02-19 00:59:50 by kiki
Keywords: None
Views: 78
Comments: 1
I'm sure you've all heard the old saying, "It's better to light one candle than to curse the darkness." It's one of those classics whose wisdom we've all accepted for a long time. You know, that it's better to take action, even a small action, than to get mad and do nothing. That it's better to move forward a few steps, or one step, or a tiny step, or even a good lean, than to be rooted and not move at all. That it's better to chop through the underbrush with a machete, inch by inch, vine by vine, than to give up and wrench them impotently and sit down and cry. That it's better to set a goal, fix your eyes on it, feel it right in the center of your soul, imagine it, know it, feel it, than to get lost in desire. That it's better to pull yourself and the world forward, yard by impossible yard, than to get mired in angry mud and spin your wheels, that it's better to carve out precious chunks of the day and not waste time, that it's better to stand foursquare and tall, unafraid, than to slump and curl and wither, that it's better to shout with pride than to spray self-righteous saliva all over the place and childishly stamp your feet. In other words... "It's better to light one candle than to curse the darkness." Then it dawned on me: But I like cursing the darkness. I often find it very satisfying. Don't you? There's almost nothing I can do directly to attack and eradicate the seemingly infinite number of injustices around us every day, but I can certainly (and easily) sit on my couch and talk back to the TV; or pace around the bedroom muttering, or stand frozen in a fugue state of imagination, spiraling down into the fantasy chance to upbraid and chasten some particularly hated, but prominent, peacock. Talking back to the TV works best, though, I find. "Oh, shut up. You're just an idiot anyway, so why don't you just shut up. Honey, I'm sorry, but don't look at me like I'm the one that's crazy. This guy's a rat and a jerk, and you know it. I'm sure even he knows it. Oh, there he goes again. Hey, how can you say that with a straight face? You don't even believe it yourself. Yes, you. I'm talking to you." I've done it alone, too, if the last paragraph isn't nuts enough for you. I think most of you have, too, or at least that's what I hope. If you haven't, try it out right now. Pick whomever you hate (You all knew it was correct to use "whom" there, didn't you? Come on, now; object of the verb), and get your hands wet. There's nothing to it. Pick someone in the public sphere, locally, regionally, nationally, internationally, interplanetary, universally... (That would be a kick and a new wrinkle, wouldn't it? "Honey, quick, get in here! That jerk from Rajal 12 is speaking to the Federation of Planets again. They still haven't owned up to causing that dimensional rift that sucked in your Uncle Lou. Ooh, look at him. He's such a liar, this guy. I can always tell when he shrugs his gills.") The beauty of this is that it works for the left, right and everywhere in between. Maybe this is the kind of unity Senator Obama is talking about. If not, it's certainly the kind I'm talking about, the chance for all Americans to find common ground in the pleasure of hating someone we think is an idiot. To paraphrase Dr. King, I have a dream, too. That one day there will be storefronts all over the country dedicated to nothing but cursing the darkness. Sort of like Fight Club, except that the first rule is not that you never talk about it, but that you always talk about it. Admittedly, there'll be enough chubby people so that it might be closer to Sam's Club, but let's not quibble before we've even begun. There would be a tiny stage and you'd sign up and everyone would get five minutes. (Good Lord, so far it sounds like a comedy club, doesn't it? Is it possible that's how they started? I should know this, shouldn't I? Anyway, it's not a comedy club. The last thing this is about is laughs.) And then each person would let if fly. Obviously a certain amount of salty language would be expected, so this is not for the faint of heart. And then the purge-partner/confessor would say the name of the one he particularly hates that day and why, and go to it. Have at it. When he or she is done -- this is going to be the hard part, by the way -- the rest of the crowd (you, too; all of you; me, you, everyone) would have to embrace and congratulate the guy no matter whom he cursed. (Whom again. I know, it's starting to annoy me, too.) Maybe you'd agree with the purge-partner, and maybe you wouldn't, but the point is not what you think until you get your turn. The last guy might hate someone you love, or love someone you hate, but you have to love him for hating who he wants for that five minutes. You have to love being there with him and with everyone else. You have to let him vent. You have to let him curse the darkness. Look, if you really hate what someone just said, and he hates what you just said, you can always go next door to a bar and yell at each other the civilized way, over a drink. The same people could own both places. Then, if the drink doesn't work, it's still early enough for the two of you to go out back for Fight Club. I GUESS IT WAS just one of those weeks for me, where the news is unremittingly shattering. The great cop with a great family, who starts charities with his own money, who gives and gives and gives his whole life, and then gets killed trying to rescue someone from a maniac who turns rotten (or a rotten guy who turns maniac). A massacre in Mexico in 1968 that goes uninvestigated again and again and again despite pledges from every president, including Vincente Fox, and finally gets some attention from an art exhibit in Mexico City (Yay, art!) and turns out to be far worse than anyone thought. By the way, what is it about presidents and pledges? Or senators or governors, or council members or mayors, for that matter. Whenever they purse their lips and nod gravely and say, "I give you my word, we will get to the bottom of this," does that just, by definition, immediately mean, "As soon as you all leave here I will never think about this again"? And then that guy at Northern Illinois State steps out from behind a scrim in a lecture hall with a shotgun and a Glock, and starts doing what guys who step out from behind scrims with shotguns usually do. Have you noticed that, as crazy as these guys are once they're off their meds, they're always sane enough to dress in the "uniform": the black shirt, black pants, black shoes and black trenchcoat? How crazy can it be to have a color scheme? He never dressed like that before. Isn't that telling in some weird way? Are they drooling and snarling and hallucinating and glazed, and then suddenly snap out of it and say, "Ooh, wait a minute. What am I going to wear?" Do they wear the black clothes into the gun store, or do they make sure to have a crew neck sweater and khakis and blazer? Would it matter? And then rapes in West Africa in several countries are brought to light as a horrifying commonplace, far worse than anyone could imagine, but the U.N. is already there, whatever in the world that means, and the young "soldiers" who do the raping and beating and killing chat and smile with reporters, and shrug and say, "Well, you know, it's a war, and what the heck, and I'll stop when it's over. Probably." And then... and then... Come to think of it, it's just like any other week, isn't it? Light a candle? Thanks but no thanks. Not right away, anyway. I've got a little cursing to do first. Why don't we change that saying a little bit? How about, "It's better to curse the darkness a couple of times and then light a candle." I know it doesn't solve anything, but a little primal screaming never hurt anyone, right? Hey, how about this one: "Okay, curse the darkness, have a little fun, then go vote for someone you like, the one you really believe will make a difference. Then, the first time he or she steps up to the podium, purses his lips and nods gravely and says, 'I give you my word, we will get to the bottom of this,' throw a magazine at the TV, turn it off, go get a drink, and start cursing again." Yeah, I think that's the one. After all, that's the way it's worked for regular people for ten thousand years. Why end a good thing now?
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#1. To: kiki (#0)
(Edited)
London's Hyde Park has its celebrated "soapbox" tradition. Where anybody can stand on a box and rant on whatever subject they please (hopefully to an interested crowd). You don't see that so much here in America today. I guess we are so free we don't need things like a public soapbox.
From Two Party System... ...to Two Family System.
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