Above: a project of mine that is almost finished. It may just come in handy…
Ever want to just get away from it all? Things just south of where I live seem to be getting a little dodgy. I’m not following it closely – bad for my health – but I get the impression that we (the entire Planet) are in for a frightening amusement park ride, kind of like being on a rickety contraption that has needed maintenance – no, out-and-out modification – for waaayyy too long. Circumstances beyond our control, such as locked iron bars across our laps, forbid escape, yet we might have avoided the crisis by deciding to take a hike somewhere in a remote place, instead of hanging around the bright lights of the “city.”
Somewhere maybe like this…
Another, more sensible, pro-active move might have been to contact those in authority and let them know how concerned we might be about the outdated, treacherous state of the ride. We might have placed pressure on the management for some critical improvements.
If the authorities were unresponsive, perhaps we might have got a group together and gone down to the “mayor’s office” and made some noise. Bang some pots and pans, maybe. Sing a few songs, perhaps.
But not enough of us did. Those things seem to have gone out of fashion.
So here we are on this now visibly scary ride. Because of the hate-filled, unpredictable, unfit-to-lead, loud-mouthed guy about to be handed the buttons and levers, we look down and wish we were wearing Depends.
And we desperately hope we can save ourselves by bringing back the mild-mannered fellow who used to operate it. But the real problem is bigger than that. The thing has no “fine tuning.” The machine needs to be redesigned and replaced.
We need more controls than one button with an elephant and another with a donkey.
It doesn’t matter who stands in the control booth. The owners, apparently worth billions, like it very simple – the way it is. It is they who need to be changed. And they are so desperate to stay in charge that they create fables to point away from their crude dichotomy as the fundamental problem and toward convenient “enemies.”
At this particular moment I don’t want to be even standing next to this ride – hence the above project. I do not want, nor do I want my family, to become collateral damage if and when the entertainment turns to real horror.
So I’m building, with renewable resources, a canoe big enough for my extended family. If I can, I’ll hire a genius like Nainoa Thompson to navigate for us.
Wish us luck and fair winds. Maybe we will meet somewhere on the high seas or on a remote island. When those pesky gamma rays hit, I want to be well tanned.
Until then, aloha.
mightyturk 
Ah, Noah, taking sail to avoid some terrible catastrophe. Although, I’d imagine we’re more often like Jonah, my friend. Called, but unwilling, asked, but refusing, even going so far as to jump the nearest ship to sail the ocean blue in search of some fantasy island, a place people oft dream of, one which never was or will ever be, and one they’ve even shed blood in the hopes of creating. They do it all rather than take up their responsibility, albeit light. Surely this terrifying ride, one people now believe to be seconds away from imploding, exploding, or something worse, it’s always been dangerous, for which, you write it’s now “visibly scary”, whereas, what once it was was simply scary in an invisible sense. Nobody wants the overthrow of a system when their man (or woman) is at its helm, yet, when they’re on the end of a leader they neither want nor understand, then, and only then, they want a revolution.
A little allegorical fantasy complete with references to the “real” world. Thought it might work…
It was actually very creative, although I was curious as to where the journey would leave a person at the world’s end. I suppose I’m asking for an end to this statement “The grass will wither and the flowers will fall, but. . .”
You know that I have, after long deliberation, built a perspective that does not depend on Isaiah. I still carry on in hope that the ending will not promote cockroaches to the top of the Kingdom, Animalia. That hope, for my next “seven generations”, as our deeply persecuted First Nations would see things, gets slimmer…
Isaiah needn’t inform your conclusion to the quote, rather, I’m just curious as to how the story ends, not necessarily the story of it all, although that’s interesting and important for each individual life, nonetheless, the interest is in your life also. In what is the hope grounded that cockroaches won’t raise to the top, moreover, why ought you and I to care either way, because, if you’re saying (and I’ll allow you to write it) that it’s all gonna burn, why care whose on top while it’s going on, who cares whether the deck of cards is in order or disorder while the entire house is burning down around it?
I’ve got nothing against la cucuracha. They’ve already been here for 300 million years and thus have my “admiration”, since H. sapiens is merely a glorious, apparently transient, patently foolish and conceited newcomer at 200 000, against whose poisons these resourceful critters have adapted marvellously. If my grandchildren don’t survive what may be coming down I’d hate any war mongers who caused it to do any better.
It’s always a treat to encounter your wit and wisdom, Bob. I wish us all luck and fair winds in the coming years.
Thank you, Carol. You always make things better. I’m in Mary Poppins’ mode at the moment. Watched that wonderful movie with with a very bright 3-y-o over the Christmas Season. My eyes and heart were opened. Maybe “A spoonful of satire will help the medicine go down…”