I Did Not Choose This Path, but I Shall Walk It

   
     There's a thing going in this country right now, and it happens so often, and gets so much attention, that I really didn't want to write about it here. I tried to avoid it, because it's being covered pretty much all the time, by pretty much every one with any access to media of any kind. The problem is, it's one of those things that, try as I might, I just can't tune it out.
     And I've gotten really good at tuning things out, friends and neighbors. It's a skill that comes naturally when one holds a natural and deep seeded hatred for so many things, and I have honed it expertly. Yet still, the caterwauling of our upcoming presidential election barreled through, and now I must address it. My hand had been forced, and now I must get involved.
     The problem is, there really isn't much to address, is there? Take a look at the assortment of disappointing hopefuls set before us, and give a listen to what they have to say when some poor fool allows them near a microphone.
     It's an astounding amount of empty noise, isn't it? I'm sure you've noticed, because what else is there to notice? Questions posed to a candidate concerning what they might do differently about any particular thing are largely met only with disparate versions of the phrase "I'd do better", and very little if any explanation follows. Most everything else we hear is just some sort of backpedaling from the last mistakenly uttered attempt at pandering.
     Now I know we'd all prefer to hear actual answers to the questions that weigh so heavily on our minds, and solutions to the troubles that sit so embedded in our hearts. It is immediately obvious that we would all, given the chance, stand with any candidate who rose above the garbage sound bites and ludicrously inauthentic pleas for attention and votes, and provided us with actual thoughts. Of any kind. Wouldn't we?
     Ha, just kidding. No way would that work. If that were the case, half of these people would've already been thrown out. What we have instead is exactly what works for us as a people: reality television. Right now we're at the beginning of the season, just waiting to see who's going to be voted out first. Will it be the orange haired sexist vampire? The lesser son of our greatest plant based dynasty? Or maybe one of the democratic candidates who isn't an email challenged former first lady, one of those folks whose names no one even really knows?
     I don't know, and the thing is, I don't really care, and I feel like not that many people do right now. That is the question that haunted me, and so I once again sought the wisdom of Myself, that great sounding board of advice and inspiration with whom so many of you have previously been acquainted. I asked Myself, "Does anyone really care about this, or is it like one of those small booths at the carnival that everyone ignores, even though the guy out front is yelling his head off for attention?"
     As ever, friends and neighbors, Myself had a ready answer. "Listen, my most revered and best loved companion," he said, "the problem lies not with the emptiness of content. Most of television and the great majority of the internet share that quality, and people love them both."
     The words of Myself rang true, as they tend to do, but I remained unsatisfied.
     "Then what can be the cause of such apathy? Are we truly a nation of jaded souls, left to be governed by the loudest and most corrupt, simply because we now lack the conviction to find a truly deserving leader?"
      "Well, fellow sophisticate and lover of all things noble, not exactly. I believe instead that our level of required stimulus is simply too high for the common meanness of the way things are being presented to us currently. What must be done, instead, is to adapt the method of communication to make it more interesting."
      The position of Myself made sense to me, and so, being a generous and helpful soul, I set about a way to solve the problem.
      It was extraordinarily easy. Took maybe five minutes, while I was driving home from work. I didn't even have to stop singing along with the radio. Here's the plan:
     Let's make it more like professional wrestling, which is reality television in its purest form. Hear me out.
     First, most of them already have entrance music, just like wrestlers. Also, I should point out that perhaps the best part of professional wrestling isn't the matches, but the talking (shouting) the wrestlers get to do in between. Already, our candidates have shown no aversion to being loud and obnoxious. After debates, we could reward winners with a great and resplendent and not at all gaudy gold belt, declaring their victory to one and all. We could have both play by play and color commentaries during the debates, as well, to narrate and justify the actions of what we would now refer to not as politicians, but 'political entertainers.'
     We could have cool names for each event, like 'Caucusmania', and 'Democraslam', and so on. First spouse hopefuls would walk the candidates down the aisle to the ring, amidst the cheers and jeers of beer filled political fanatics wearing T-shirts and holding up signs proclaiming their eloquently worded feelings of patriotism.
     I know this seems ridiculous at first, but think on it for a second. We've seen one of these human gems demonstrate a proclivity for cooking bacon with a gun. Another received his most positive response after showing us all how many ways there are to dispose of a phone. The only thing we haven't seen is a serious discussion of what in the world one of them would do with the job if they somehow managed to get it. Fortunately for them, no one seems to really be asking, because being informed (or informing) is a distant second to being entertained (likewise.)
     There it is and you're welcome, one and all. I know that this will mostly be dismissed as some sort of joke, but at least bear this in mind when the election rolls around next year, which by the way will be the first one I can legally win: I saw a problem, I gave you a clear and concise answer to said problem, and no matter what you think about my solution, you can't tell me you wouldn't pay to see me hit some of these people with a steel chair.
     In other words, "I'd do better."
     Vote Crawford, 2016.
-John

Better Afraid Than Ashamed

     The more I look around (hello and welcome, by the way), the more I notice an odd and unsettling shift in how things are being sold to us, and I don't just mean products. I mean political points of view, theological beliefs, methods of consumption and parenting, pretty much everything. There was a time, I can recall, when everything was about keeping people scared enough to feel like they needed protection. Remember that, when insurance companies were everywhere, and they had more mascots than they did unhelpful customer service reps? I remember it, and I'm pretty sure I wrote about it.
     Now, though, something is going on that makes me long for the days when all I had to do was understand and accept that I was a powerless individual in a world of terror and madness, and the only thing I could do was rely on my leaders (whom I was also to fear) and corporate masters (also to be feared) for protection.
     Those were the days, but unfortunately I believe they have gone the way of the Woolly Mammoth, with significantly less hope for revival (they're still working on bringing those beasts back, by the way. Don't give up hope.) Those halcyon days have been replaced by a more shame filled culture, one where everyone wants everyone who isn't them to feel bad. About everything.
     For example, I saw a phone service commercial wherein two people tell the same autobiographical story about some fix they found themselves in, and of course only one of them had this good service. This person came out of said fix cleaner than a brand new pair of shoes. The other one, that poor, unfortunate, fool of a man, was left to face a family which no longer had any faith whatsoever in their  pathetic paternal parent.
     See what I mean? Where once, the consequences served to this simple minded fool would have been physical injury, perhaps, or loss of a job and subsequently a home, he now faces guilt and shame. What caused this shift, I wonder? Did someone realize that fear as a commodity no longer has an effect? That, to borrow a phrase, the market has been saturated, and in the search for a new way to sell pretty much anything they want, have settled on guilt and shame?
     I think it is, and while I admit it's pretty clever, it remains ultimately horrific, and I simply can't wait to tell you why, so I'm going to do it right this minute.
     Take it from someone who knows, friends and neighbors, walking around feeling ashamed and guilty about -and this next phrase is chosen very carefully, and without exaggeration- every aspect of one's being is not a good idea.  It does not lead to improvement, of one's self or life.
     It certainly won't make me switch phone service companies, or insurance companies, or buy an electric car, or go to church, or vote for the most famous actual real life vampire our country currently has, and don't act like you don't know who I'm talking about.
     There's a reason he eats pizza with a fork, and it's because he's not used to human food, because he eats literal Human Food.
     And speaking of food, (now that's a segue, right there) what happened to the days when eating unhealthy food only caused the consumer to die of horrible disease? Now it's like having a hamburger is not only supporting the cruel treatment of livestock (which....okay, yeah, it is), but I may as well be out covering the ice caps with oil and setting them ablaze.
     Which I would not do, ever. Gas is already so expensive. Also I like Polar Bears.
     Anyway, look, I know everything is terrible, okay? If you don't believe me, ask around. People will tell you, I am quite in the know when it comes to how much everything sucks. I would (and have just tried to) point out, however, that guilt and shame do not lead to peace and salvation. I would also like to point out that making me miss the days when I was supposed to be afraid all the time is something someone should feel bad about.
    Also, that guy I called a vampire before? He's a vampire. For real.
-John