this is the way the world ends.
this is the way the world ends.
this is the way the world ends.
not with a bang, but a whimper.

This oft quoted stanza from T.S. Eliot’s “The Hollow Men’ is usually, as I use it here, taken grossly out of context. However, in keeping with my current theme of global doom and gloom, it is appropriately misused. Please forgive me.

The world, as we know it, is spiraling down upon itself from my point of view. Oh, we may yet get a cosmic bitch slap from some god-like entity or we could fall victim to some high and inside space rock bean ball, and folks, if that happens, there ain’t no free trot to first base. The inning’s over. Game called on account of nuclear winter. Yeah, either one could happen, but I think we’re going to quietly and complacently kill ourselves with the ultimate weapon of mass destruction… ourselves.

We’re wallowing in a quagmire of self indulgence, self importance and self satisfaction, with a huge pinch of self pity tossed in, just to spice it all up a bit. Ten percent of the world’s population control ninety percent of the world’s wealth, consume ninety percent of the world’s food and give zero percent in return. We pride ourselves on our mass consumerism; we laud our technological advancements. We lean back in our chairs, our thumbs hooked in the belts that span our ample waists and look at the rest of the world and shake our heads in mock concern. We feel so good about ourselves when we feel so bad for “them”. We discuss “their” plight over dinners with more food then “they” consume in a month. We watch “them” die from disease, starvation and natural disasters on our fifty inch televisions from the comfort of our comfy, cozy, mortgaged to the hilt castles and, oh, we feel so bad… for the time being, anyway, until it’s time to change the channel to watch American Idol or the Osbourn’s.
Quick, tell me, what picture did that just paint in your mind? Did you think about the people in some far off land, like Africa or India? Maybe Mexico? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Did you think about those in our own country who suffer from the same misfortune? (Note to self: kick yourself in the ass for saying “misfortune”. It’s not misfortune… it’s abuse, not misfortune). The same percentages apply here as elsewhere in the world. It’s a global thing, Daddy-O, and global includes the good old USA, if you haven’t noticed.
So, suck on that while you wrap yourself up in the eiderdown tonight in your air- conditioned bedroom, with your belly full of Taco Bell and beer, instead of wondering if you remembered to close the windows in your SUV.

But wait… there’s more tomorrow, so y’all come back now, ya hear?


Blogger Fignatz said...

There's a great old story about Paul Desmond (alto player with Dave Brubeck) who, when dumped by his girlfriend for a guy in the financial sector, commented:

"So this is how it ends – not with a wimp, but a banker".

10:46 PM  

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