Questionable Fortune

I really liked this section of the book, as it finally spoke the unspeakable truth. The source to all these problems, the bleak prospect of recovery, everything- it all lies within us. We are the problem. We are the monsters. And to this very day, none of us want to change.

I, for example, am perfectly aware of this problem that we are facing. But even in reading this book, even in blogging about it every week, nothing much has changed in my life, except for the fact that I am now dreadfully aware of the consequences my actions have; which, in turn, only makes me that much more guilty for knowing, but consciously choosing to not care.

But, it’s as Squarzoni points out, it’s not that we don’t care. We just don’t want our everyday life pleasures to be taken away. We don’t want to limit ourselves, especially, when the rest of the world isn’t limiting themselves too. We don’t want to suffer alone. We don’t want the world telling us that, “you can’t.” And maybe that’s selfishness. But maybe it’s also human nature.

There was a picture on page 276, with a man, lying on the floor, looking very, well, dead. He’s dead on the floor, while the people behind him march on, in their pursuit of life. And I don’t know what was so striking about this picture, but it captured my attention. Perhaps it was the realization that some people won’t even get a chance to make it to the dark ages that have yet to come. Some people will die only knowing what is, now. And I honestly don’t know if that’s preferable or not. I feel bad for them now, but with the way this world is turning, there may be an even more painful fate that lies ahead of us. Maybe they were the lucky ones.

But, I would also say that, unlike Squarzoni, I don’t believe in hopelessness. I believe that things can get better. I believe that people can change. It’s just going to take an extremely large effort to not only revolutionize the way Americans live, but to also alter their entire way of thinking. But it’s not impossible. And we may be monsters now, but if we keep telling ourselves that this is all we’ll ever be, we might as well give up now. We may be the problem, but the only way to solve any problem, is to believe that there’s an attainable solution.

And as for me, I’m still a work in progress. But maybe we all are. But maybe that’s all that matters-we’re progressing. We’re slowly pressing our way forward towards redemption and forgiveness. Reaching, ever, for that glorious yet humble, retaliation.

 

ps. Is no one going to talk about the drugged up Santa?