La Recherche du temps perdu . . . apologies to Proust
Many of us graybeards know in our gut that the talk of the importance of this election is not hyperbole. It feels like going off a cliff. You don't notice because lives are lived in a succession of forgettable and forgotten moments. Before you know it -- the abyss is there.
So I find myself wondering what is about this election,not to mention this period of time, which rouses a sense of qualitative difference from the general ennui which I have felt for decades about the American democracy. Paradoxically, it is not so much a concern for this country per se that affects my feelings, but a concern for the wider world of which, though many head-in-the-sand "patriots" choose to remain oblivious to the fact in all but the most formulary ways, The United States is part.
Strange, is it not, for a people that has perhaps more mobility and access to an international experience and world view,the quintessential American is one who remains firmly rooted on these shores, mentally and physically, eyes firmly glued (bad metaphor!) to Big Media/Big Brother's current offerings on the tube. And, as probably 99.9% of the public would agree, this composite citizen would argue without end -- and also without a comprehensive understanding of the facts -- that his/her life is superior and unmatched to that possible anywhere outside the US of A.
I certainly don't view Kerry as some wunderkind who will bitch slap the country into a greater awareness of our myopia (we probably couldn't take the shock). But I have a depressingly unpleasant feeling that a second Bush term would only reinforce the prevailing policies and attitudes that have made the country distrusted and disliked around the world. Really a shadow of our former stature in ways that count, and a mirror in behavior and perception of some of the base traits we have criticized in other governments with good reason.
Its gone beyond embarrassment for me. The fear feels real. The apprehension of something portentious. Reminds me of driving across northern New Mexico, aware that the Rio Grande was ahead somewhere, but in no way prepared for the suddeness of its appearance as a deep gash in the plateau. Only we seem to be driving pretty much without a map, and with a drunk driver at the wheel.
So I find myself wondering what is about this election,not to mention this period of time, which rouses a sense of qualitative difference from the general ennui which I have felt for decades about the American democracy. Paradoxically, it is not so much a concern for this country per se that affects my feelings, but a concern for the wider world of which, though many head-in-the-sand "patriots" choose to remain oblivious to the fact in all but the most formulary ways, The United States is part.
Strange, is it not, for a people that has perhaps more mobility and access to an international experience and world view,the quintessential American is one who remains firmly rooted on these shores, mentally and physically, eyes firmly glued (bad metaphor!) to Big Media/Big Brother's current offerings on the tube. And, as probably 99.9% of the public would agree, this composite citizen would argue without end -- and also without a comprehensive understanding of the facts -- that his/her life is superior and unmatched to that possible anywhere outside the US of A.
I certainly don't view Kerry as some wunderkind who will bitch slap the country into a greater awareness of our myopia (we probably couldn't take the shock). But I have a depressingly unpleasant feeling that a second Bush term would only reinforce the prevailing policies and attitudes that have made the country distrusted and disliked around the world. Really a shadow of our former stature in ways that count, and a mirror in behavior and perception of some of the base traits we have criticized in other governments with good reason.
Its gone beyond embarrassment for me. The fear feels real. The apprehension of something portentious. Reminds me of driving across northern New Mexico, aware that the Rio Grande was ahead somewhere, but in no way prepared for the suddeness of its appearance as a deep gash in the plateau. Only we seem to be driving pretty much without a map, and with a drunk driver at the wheel.
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