© 2011 Josh california-girl2

No Change… Sorry.

In the last 50 years, revolution in America went from a certainty to an impossibility.  After Robert Kennedy was gunned down, there were still enough drugs in our system from the summer of ’67 to let us coast into the 70s; which we entered, eyes pried open like Alex in the Ludovico apparatus.
Somewhere during those strange, ugly years, between the congressional act to end the war in vietnam and apparently give birth to disco, the conscientious rebellion was laid to rest, and the spiritual solution that a generation fucked, toked, and sang for was annihilated.
From the perspective of a generation to whom all these events are ancient history, fodder for hollywood, mined for cover songs, retro clothing, and the occasional term paper, the beast within the void springs into sharp relief.  The transition from the sixties to the eighties is the vision of horror. A giant machine made of marble and gold, a granite and steel monster is born.  It slithers into a throne made of knobby, well worn bone; it gorges itself on the sweat of labor and guzzles the blood of peasants, and over the next ten years, it begins to consume America.
There was apparently a war being fought in the eighties, between all people’s best interests and a few people’s self interest.  The eighties were some kind of mass hypnosis, where suddenly everyone in America happily took their medicine; a pill that, once consumed, would convince you that one day, you’ll be rich; that borrowing money would make you wealthy, and that everything new was cool.  The eighties were apparently a party being thrown in a burning house, I don’t remember, I really only saw the eighties on television.
By the time the nineties came around, the party was really fucking over; the ultimate decade of the 1900s was that post-afterparty nihilistic one night stand gone wrong.  Clinton’s policies gave everyone one last fading glimpse at a government that at least tried to look like it cared about its citizens. Meanwhile, the only social issue we seemed to give attention to was how nothing was cool unless it absolutely wasn’t cool.  The rebellion of our youth was literally the pursuit of nothing, nihilism, apathy, and the condemnation of value with the killing word “whatever”.
Ten years of terror, literal terror, and figurative rape followed the 90s. 9/11 was the detonation, and homeland security, the patriot act, war after war, and a global financial meltdown were the fallout.  The clever folks who owned the bank, they robbed it, then turned around and threatened that the world was going to end if the banks werent filled back up. The wealth was finally completing its migration as ‘bailouts’ in the hundreds of billions are distributed amongst the inordinately wealthy.
Now, we’re all here, sitting at the base of the curve, watching the cracks grow, braced for the collapse.  It’s kind of the perfect moment for revolution, isn’t it?  Isn’t there enough shit to be mad about? Hasn’t everyone been fucked over enough to reach a breaking point? We’re watching the middle east rebel against corrupt leaders, and we’re eating popcorn, trying to get our debt under control, and hoping that the next time we get fucked in the ass, it won’t hurt as much.
We have succumbed to the belief that revolution is impossible in america. It cannot happen here.  We can’t rebel against the government because Barak Obama is keeping the seat warm, we can’t rebel against corporations because we have no idea how, we can’t rebel against capitalism, because then we’ll never be rich, and we can’t take to the streets because we can’t seem to not loot, riot, and self-destruct when assembled in motivated crowds.  Or maybe it’s because we’re all sucking down the wrong drugs; loaded up with pharmaceuticals instead of psychedelics; twitter and facebook instead of love-ins and jam sessions, or maybe we’ve just come to accept the fact that we can’t actually change anything. Maybe its because the idea of revolution sounds crazy.
That’s probably it.  If you say ‘they’ you sound paranoid; if you point out a conspiracy, then you’re just a crackpot conspiracy theorist; if you point out trends in data that suggest the manipulation of the economy by a small group of corporations and government officials, then you’re anti-american.
The thing about America is we have all these rights designed to support a popular rejection of corruption in government.  Our first amendment gives us the power to criticize our government, and our second amendment gives us the right to defend ourselves against it, the next 7 protect us from being plowed under laws and government interference, and the tenth amendment, ostensibly leaves in our hands all the powers to enact change in our government while preventing too much consolidation of power and corruption by a central body.  What the fuck went wrong?
People blame Nixon and the Drug War, as the moment that America caved to corporate interest, some people say that Reaganomics was the breaking point, some claim it was Clinton turning Alan Greenspan loose on our economy, others still point at Bush and the deregulation of the financial industry.  The truth is, it was my fault.
It really was; during the 90s I was playing first person shooters and stealing lawn gnomes instead of studying political science and economics.  I wanted to do something, but I couldn’t be bothered, couldn’t figure out which war I was supposed to be starting.   Now I’m a grown ass consumer, shopping on-line, streaming content, restricting to doing the legal drugs, living my life on my debit card, and staring into the future thinking, “well, I’ll probably be dead before it gets too bad.”

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