Baton down the hatches, a storm this way comes

Society has lost integrity from many different points of view and, yes, I am concerned.
There are numerous examples of disrespect of our own history, our beliefs, our ancestors, our own patriotic notions. Is this what we really want for our lives and that of our kids and their kids?
The deniers of history are no better than those who defame our institutions for their own gain. Why lie? Because we allow these lies to exist and gather credit along the way as repetition sticks in the collective brain. 
I am not one of those who believes in massive conspiracy theories such as the moon landing or the Holocaust being a fabrication. Movies that speak to these theories are fascinating to watch, but so are Foghorn Leghorn cartoons. 
However, I never grew up thinking that one day a monster chicken would beast me to death with a baseball bat ala Al Capone (or that scene from The Apostle where actor Robert Duvall kills his wife’s boyfriend in front of a crowd of Little Leaguers and their parents with a vicious swing to his cheatin’ brain-housing-group).
I often surf the web looking for interesting news and other points of view on a variety of topics.
Yesterday I saw some alleged advertising about “Lakefront living on Lake Chelan.” There was only one problem, this site was displaying a photo of a Chinese-styled home on a lake complete with the unique “hip and gable” roofing.
If you own this home on Lake Chelan, please respond. I am cynical one exists.
Then there was another “Lake Chelan” advertisement that said there were 660 different places to stay around the lake. Obviously another lie.
One time, about three or four years ago, an author sent me a “media copy” of his book. It was another lie. In this acknowledged work of fiction, he still went a bit too far.
His book describes a large shopping mall in downtown Chelan. It was at that point I gagged and informed him I could never plug his book because it was the antithesis of what the Lake Chelan and Manson residents thought about their community.
He suggested I go along with his story anyway because it was, after all, a work of fiction. A work of fiction is the best if it also contains a kernel of truth that can be embellished. The Nazis did that. All aggressive societies had their scapegoats. Point to the “other” and dehumanize them so all the losers in your community will have someone else to blame for the failures of self and state.
Gather this wicked brew and pick the weakest among you to pillory while you celebrate the essence of being human. It is pointing the finger at the other tribe. At Mother Nature, at the nexus and matrix and serendipity of just living a life. 
Crush the spirits of those who disagree by patronizing their stupidity while stabbing them in the back. Being shanked in prison is one thing, but being shanked out on the block is quite something else. 
Listen to Back Stabbers by the OJ’s … sometimes relationships get out of hand and cause great harm to others.
Street “cred” doesn’t come cheap. It is sweat equity on steroids and if you lose respect in the daylight of the everyday hustle it means you will suffer through a miserable night of wondering whom you can trust or when another coup will be attempted in the kingdom of your mind. 
Just surviving in our haze of mental anguish, capitalized by transferring childhood trauma onto your latest demon, this is enough to justify acting out. The rage from before you were cognizant of even understanding what you got yourself into after you left the crib, the womb of dad and mom and meals and warmth and love.
As Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young would sing, “Just hang your head and sigh, and know they (your parents) love you.”
That’s right, if we would regain the clarity of respecting our elders, the freakish mold and mildew, the rot, the gangrene of doubt, would melt away into sweetness and light.
The human race cannot last much longer if we continue to blame the elders, rather than achieve for our own time a sustainable legacy.
The human race will disappear before 2040 because we have sanctioned the murder of our own babies. No one feels shame now. It will be too late to feel anything once the seas own the land and the high ground is home only to those with the nerve to take it for their own by force or guile.
The patriots of the land will need an oasis to flock to. I envision pockets of geography exclusively for the sane among us.
Those with the collective cognizance to feel what the ancestors felt and respect that and pass that respect on to the youngsters ad infinitum. A few nuances can be added to our “group think” year by year, but if the flow of invention is too great, we all lose from want of a solid core to which we can revolve around. 
A certain Mephisto Waltz* requiring the use of the primordial mind, the ancient reptilian brain of our animal spirits we all strive to never show, yet there it is. 
Or will you simply follow the murder of crows as they caw high into the sky, agreeing with each other. 
How nice of you brother crow, sister crow. How nice of you to lead me to food, though it best be described as vermin on a stick.
We eat the lies fed to us and are happy to be alive. Until we are not. 
*The Mephisto waltz is a piano work by Franz Liszt, but is more than mere music.
 
NCW Media Managing Editor Gary Bégin can be emailed: Gary@NCWMedia.net. All comments may be reprinted as Letters to the Editor.
 

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