And America, I'm terrified! The polar ice caps are melting and gas prices are rising and everyone seems content to just Twitter away about what bar they're going to drown their sorrows in tonight (Lit). Maybe coke is coming back because we all need to distract ourselves from the world and just feel happy for 15 minutes. Maybe weed is more potent than ever because we need to sedate ourselves to keep living the way we are.
But really, we're railroading ourselves. We're dooming ourselves to a world that will slide off into the deep end (quite literally) perhaps within my lifetime. Why are people not scared and upset? I certainly am! But I mean, maybe I'm a symptom of the problem, too. I'm just blogging about this when I could be campaigning for Obama or living greenly or single-handledly rescuing print journalism. But I'm not! Instead, I'm here, bitching to a tiny audience on a blog. And maybe that's what's really wrong with America: we create Facebook groups vowing to stop atrocities instead of actually stopping them.
The internet is a powerful tool, though. If that one Yahoo article can inspire me this viscerally, then maybe writing is all we have to enact change. The Hold Steady once aptly sang, "Words alone could never save us." I put that as an epithet for my first ever poetry manuscript. And I do think it's true in a lot of ways: we can talk and talk about problems but they're not going to be solved unless we actually do something about them. Maybe writing is only the first step.
The trouble is that I almost feel so resigned to the fact that this world is potentially only decades from simply heaving and sighing and giving up that I don't feel the desire to do anything about it. In short, I feel incredibly helpless. Because if it's "God" or whoever vs. The Rest of Us, then it doesn't matter how much oil money you've stuffed in your trouser pockets -- we're all fucked.