"Things Fall Apart; the Centre Cannot Hold..."

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
~William Butler Yeats
“The Second Coming” 1919

Things do fall apart, and the world is changing. It is not so much a matter of the ubiquitous “globalization” that many point to when there are uncertainties; things simply change. Old forms lose their shape, entropy sets in, and things fall apart. Democracy is one such “thing” that has been exhausted – something that was once extremely revolutionary and functional for its time, but it has grown into the old man whose every cell is being pulled to the earth by gravity, and whose body is decaying in plain view. The centre cannot hold.

The best lack all conviction… Ideas, simply stated, are similarly “things” that must be challenged in their due course, and we have grown complacent and cannot be bothered to care about what other people decide for the sheer scale of who those “other people” are, and what “super powers” they possess. While the worst are full of passionate intensity, radical fools reach out from the bowels of the underworld to produce noxious, dangerous, ridiculous – almost laughable – outcomes if it weren’t for the toll taken upon humanity, the animal kingdom, and the earth herself.

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere there ceremony of innocence is drowned… A great many scholars and thinkers have addressed everything herein, including Yeats, who obviously gave consideration and ample expression in “The Second Coming.” Marx also had it right – in theory: it all shakes down to those who have, and those who do not. Power and riches protect themselves while the poor look on with empty gazes, wondering when hell will freeze over for the fat bastards in their posh chairs and fancy offices, signing away lives en masse with a single pen stroke of illegible credence. Darwin might have had it right too: it’s about the survival of the fittest, and “fittest” in modern parlance would mean “possessing (hoarding) the riches” while masses perish under the weight of the same.

What exactly is this notion we hold that our “votes” make an iota of difference as to the direction in which humanity is heading? Democracy has become an arcane ritual – a blunt object used to “make right” what wrongs it has created from bygone eras and recent histories. For there to be “right,” the whole thing needs to be scrapped and taken apart – piece by piece – dissected, and completely dismantled, as it were. It no longer works, and is no longer viable for the world that is now governed by economics rather than politics – economic strategy as opposed to political strategy because it all comes down to the monetary units concerned.

Though “democracy” needs to be disassembled, civility must be pursued because we cannot afford for mere anarchy to become loosed, but this takes thinkers, and I am not such a person. I have no alternative ideas to offer up except for those anecdotal “Indian” stories of American history that speak of taking no more from the earth than that which is required, and living on egalitarian terms that neither oppresses or asks much sacrifice except for the shared experience of the long-lost community. We are systems functioning within systems – cogs within wheels and gears that have reach maximum capacity and have no means of continuing to fuel ourselves. We are the lost tribe of modernity – one without a face or name except for “me” and “I.” History, in America, starts out its preamble as, “We the people…” Now that that task has been squared away and every square inch of territory claimed privately public, something else must take place. Ownership must be foregone for humanity to survive – we cannot own what is not ours. We share life, but we are not the only actors, and yet, this is the only planet we live upon.

Taking a Piss

Throughout the ages, people from all walks of life and manner of cultures have held onto a “notion” (for the lack of a better word), that they can provide happiness to some significant other or another out there or some similar nonsense. Barring the proverbial gold diggers, two-three-four-timers, cheats, sluts, bastards, bitches, and assholes, and similarly uncongenial types “out there,” (which subsets contains all of humanity) those who remain, do so in ignorance that such a thing as "love" really exists when it is nothing more than a gateway towards self-serving behaviors, deeds, actions, and aspirations that drive general needs.

There are those who believe, or worse yet, know, that they love, and they are convinced of their love – idle people who have nothing better to do with their time and energy. They’d rather see their own demise than to witness “their S.O.” in a state of disarray, and would sacrifice life and limb to ensure said “other’s” happiness. Further, if the usual and more primitive means of reciprocity are removed (ie, talking, sex), then there is little likelihood that expression can be achieved to satisfaction. Hold out for nothing; it ain’t coming true like the fairy tales tell it; such stories should be banned from the libraries and in every medium because hope and love are far too painful to hope to want – or at least the reception of it is, because human beings are forgetful and selfish entities – all human beings.

In truth, without the words and then the actions, nothing one does makes a damned bit of difference towards expression because most people walk around with gaping holes in their souls where their hearts used to be and from lost nuggets of time in which they have been hurt in past lives. The nature of the beast is that humans insist on carrying the luggage of pain and angst around with them wherever they go, despite all evidence to the contrary. And the older people get, the tighter they hold on to their baggage and insist upon misery over happiness as the rule and not the exception. There are no solutions; one tries, one adapts, one works, one hopes, one goes out of one’s way, one wishes to feel the hand of a lover gently placed upon a shoulder, or to receive a kiss, or to be seduced by or be desirable to one's lover, or even to be touched by accident, if that is the only form of affection to be gained. One hopes for hellos and farewells, good mornings, and good nights, but one never wishes to change the object of one’s love, so the choice is engrained deeply to embrace desolation in the face of love because fear is the stronger emotion more often than not. So, humans have learned the metaphorical act of “running away” from the light, and into the damp safety of their dark nights.

Such a world is devoid of expectations because there is no recourse to expectations – they are fleeting and have no meaning except to fulfill a deep need to feel alive again – even if momentarily, and if momentarily, then why any at all? Why not just do away with it completely because isn't that the stuff of disappointment – and wouldn’t life just be better without disappointments, even if it means preventing the fleeting joy that accompanies a form of fulfilled hope? That would be the irony, paradox, and oxymoron in a nutshell. The light is bright, even if the world is at its darkest. Being blinded by love is sweeter than honey, and dumbstruck better than stupid, and hurt better than having missed out – being blinded by love allows one to open one’s eyes and see the world for its glorious beauty. And thus, the argument against love is rendered moot, and the long twilight struggle continues as humanity feels around in the dark for a light switch that is closer than can be imagined...