Friday, April 22, 2005

Proxy fights, inaction at a distance

Riled up, hot and bothered, grieved and pissed at a world steered by self serving fools who claim "moral" objectivity but would pass for idiots if they had to defend their programs the way one defends a PhD thesis.

Fuming....but doing what?

Complaining is not the only coin the liberals have to spend in the never ending struggle for sanity and justice. My admiration goes naturally to those who, at some cost or risk, get in the cop's faces with the anti-war placard or climb a tree to prevent the chainsaws taking from us what only millenia could restore. But how are their efforts reported to the world at large? If we don't buy us a radio network, if we don't find some truth that is just as seductive as the pitches for selfishness and the appeals to fear, who do we stir but ourselves?

To the extent that anybody is listening amid the din, complaining is not utter fecklessness. Other than these exhortations and a few hundred dollars to environmental activist organizations, I am mostly just talking the talk. Consider the strange gulf between the self evident fairness of the causes we espouse and the greater efficacy of political fundraising and vote herding on the part of the interests oppossed to tolerance and fairness. I don't really have to be smart enough to psychoanalyze or financially deconstruct the momentary ascendance of the oppressive, the intolerant, the chickens of Hooterville who don't know how much Colonel Sanders spends to keep them focused on the wrong issues. I just have to trust myself and my causes enough to do something.

So? What are my excuses? On what little bannana peel do I slip off the path thinking "Is it that important?, is it worth the trouble? Isn't taking care of this?"

There are no proxies...its just me.

Perhaps because I fear discovering how dull my life really is, I suffer in some instances an inability to distinguish between a loss of nerve and a lost of interest.

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