Reviled by Vegas

I thought I was alone with my feelings about Vegas:

[Daily Kos]: I hate Vegas. I mean I loath it. It's what the whole country would look like if it were run by the Mafia. It's Bedford Falls in the part of It's a Wonderful Life where Jimmy Stewart was never born. It's Hunter S. Thompson, without the charm. And I hate it even more now that the corporations have turned it into the R-rated Disney World.

10:38:49 PM   permalink: []   feedback:   comments: []  

The Gulf Between Them

They sat in the dark with the burning fire before them. They were old friends, and they had done this before. As the fire burned low, they sat there talking about their lives and the world and everything in between.

He told her about his diminishing view of the general state of things and how he had begun to feel withdrawn. She didn't seem to understand.

He kept trying to explain, but for each step forward he got pushed back two.

Why on earth would you want to live that way when you can have nice things? Clearly, she thought he was a basket case.

I don't want those things as much as I want truth. No, as much as I want openness. No, simplicity. He sat in thought, searching for better words.

Don't you see, all those nice things, all that metal and plastic and cellophane is nothing more than that: metal and plastic and cellophane. We race up and down the aisles buying new gadgets to replace our old ones, and we don't stop to see what's happening, what we are becoming, what we have become.

She stared at him blankly.

For heaven's sake, what are you talking about -- useless plastic and metal. What, you want to live in a cave?

One step forward. Two steps back.

No, he sighed, I don't want to live in a cave. What I am saying is that while we race around like headless chickens seeking to slake our unquenchable thirsts, things are going on in the world outside that we should know about, that we should be worried about, that we should talk about. But nobody's talking, everyone's busy scouring the aisles.

I don't care about the world outside. I just want to be able to come home at night and know that I can send my children to school in the morning. And are you complaining about shopping, now!?

One step forward and two steps back.

It's more than just the world outside. It is us, too. We are becoming automatons. We work like slaves from morning to night and are thankful that for the fact that we even have jobs. We consume what is put on the grocery store or video store or music store shelves. That's all we do: consume like mindless drones. Nobody grows their own tomatoes anymore. Nobody sings around the fire anymore. Nobody sings period.

What!?

Go ahead: sing me a song.

You're being silly, she said. I don't have a good voice.

Neither do I, he said.

You see? she responded quickly.

But if you ask me to sing you a song, I will.

She rolled her eyes. I know you would. What does that prove?

One step forward. Two steps back.

What I'm saying is that I just can't listen to the drivel on the TV, anymore. It's been a long time since they had anything interesting to say. I can't even listen to the radio.

Oh, she said. You don't like the news.

No. I don't...

Then don't watch it. But you don't have to throw out your television!

One step forward. Two steps back.

I don't like the news. I don't like the way in which everything gets filtered and made more palatable for mass consumption. When is the last time you saw a real scene from the war, scenes that really showed you what this war is all about?

I don't want to see the bodies. Nobody wants to see dead bodies. People don't want to hear about sadness all the time. We've had enough of that. We have a right to some happiness, too.

Yes. You have a right to happiness.

One step forward. Two steps back.

There was nothing to do but pipe down. Half a globe away, millions were dying of poverty and disease. Half a globe away, bombs were dropping in mountains and on oil fields and anyone else who had the misfortune to be in the way. Half a globe away, the war on terrorism had paved the way for the return of the multinational corporations under the guise of caretaker governments and occupying forces. At home, edicts had been issued from the highest places instructing the government to round up trouble makers and put them in jail. Laws had been changed, giving the police had new powers to decide for themselves who had gone too far over the line, to define the line as they saw fit.

She didn't want to hear about it, so the fact that no one talked about such things was fine by her. She just wanted her DVDs and MP3s. She just wanted warm fuzzy stories on the news about cat shows and growing bigger rose bushes.

The gulf between them was wider than it had ever been.

8:21:05 AM   permalink: []   feedback:   comments: []