Monthly Archives: August 2013

If the White House is Burning in a Forest…

Lets talk about something that has been on my mind for a while. Lets talk about politics. They tell us in class that no one is outside of it. They tell us through the media that we have no place in it. They tell us at the polling booths that we control it. They tell us from Washington what is happening within it. Where are we? Really.

What I am coming to understand is that we are confused, and rightly so. Because if we are listening to all of this, we are a lot of places and nowhere at once. Thats it. Its not a conspiracy, its a well maintained plan. A timeless plan of confusion, disengagement and disempowerment.

Politics is centralized, as efficiency necessitates. We are fragmented. Fragmented, divided and conquered. Fragmentation is not checks and balances, it is isolation. Consumption becomes the treatment. We need communities not commodities. Computers will not bring us together, until we can bring ourselves together without them.

History unravels our mess through timelines and words nonsensical until the present is past, Germany 1933, South Africa 1948, Rwanda 1994, United States 2001. People were led to be confused, controlled. Confusion is the birth place of fear and dependence. My masters degree is becoming increasingly important, and not for the paper at the end of the two years. This MA is opening my eyes to confusion machines, that masquerade behind the titles of education, advocacy and public interest. We are their products.

I am learning how to acknowledge and decipher the confusion, to produce back, in resistance.

Confusion could be in the public interest if we had the time, investment and tools to investigate it. More often, confusion is in the economic or private interest. Lets talk about politics. Lets talk about representation. Lets unfold conversations that involve more than handfuls of people, politicians. Politics: we are uneducated about, deceived by, and consensually close our eyes to it.

I purpose an unearthing of politics in its multiplicity. The isolation driven by fragmentation and confusion is not an isolation of education, advocacy and public interest. Difference should be the beginning, and not the end of our journeys. We should start relishing in, instead of running from, the discomfort of it. Then we can move past this sedentary confusion, into the forest.

Sickness, Part 1

Today I felt a mixture of rage and nausea well up in my stomach when I heard the words fall from my classmates mouth: Gays, thats all Mugabe and I agree on. Gays? You mean the legalized discrimination and imprisonment of a people based on their sexual orientation, twenty-first century hate laws is all you agree on? What exactly is it that you don’t? I have met those before who are fearful of gays, those who are ready to throw a punch at a man who makes unwanted advances (as if that commonly happens), but I have never been so unfortunate as to meet another human being on this earth who would want another man imprisoned, and in Zimbabwe near dead, because of who he loved. Hate is a sickness perpetrated by those who do not know love. The feeling in the pit of my stomach welled up and grew quickly. He was of my own species. I am him, he is me, ubuntu, disgusting. This is the rationality of a Zimbabwean Catholic God? This is the rationality of a human in 2013? This is insanity, preached by those on Earth who’ve lay claim over the high heavens and attracted many obedient regurgitators. He vomited first and I’ve always been queasy at the sight and stench of it. I was at loss for hope but words were flowing freely. What do you say in the face of ignorance? I started in with the concept of love, the one that proceeds those two simple words ‘thy neighbor’ in the Bible. I asked him if he had a Bible and then told him to bring it tomorrow. I wanted to see with my own eyes his version of the proof. I wanted to see him search for reason. I wanted to see him find one single flimsy sentence of script and tell me again that was all it took to deserve judgement, an undeniable sin. When did we start believing that we had the prerogative to judge and condemn in the name of our creator? When did love become so stigmatized? Normally I feel blessed to live in this world of progression. But yesterday I realized Seattle is not the world one more time. All I can do now is look toward tomorrow as another opportunity to take on a bit fuller reality in hopes that in its wholeness I gain greater purpose and determination.