God forbid I would ever find myself strapped to a gurney on route to the ER, semiconscious, gasping for breath.
But if I found myself “circling the drain,” as are thousands upon thousands at this very moment, I cannot imagine spending those precious last minutes praying to keep the wheels of industry turning or bemoaning my financial plight – the Treasury needs to print more trillions for me and my dear friends.
I suspect that I would seek the nearest hand, clasp it tightly and implore someone, anyone, to tell my family I love them. Isn’t that what we all would do – are doing?
Our current calamity is as collective as it is personal. These are edifying times; the heat is turned up – our system of values is being distilled. “Where are my children?! Tell them I love them!”
That feels somewhat better. Now, let’s put away our tribulations and tissues and stare squarely into the terrible mirror that COVID-19 has slid in front of us.
What has been an ongoing crisis for all of planetary life, particularly over the last century, has quite predictably become a widespread human crisis. The mirror is being held up again, as it had been during other handcrafted disasters: the Civil War, a couple of world wars, a Great Depression, the 2008 financial crisis. We look into that mirror only long enough to evoke a feeling of slight concern.
Politicians then take up their blowhorns with fanciful rhetoric about difficult lessons learned, our underlying unity and brotherhood. We solemnly bow in recognition. We sigh in relief that the grim reaper spared us before plunging back into our stock portfolios, our career climbing, our next clever tweet or column. Above all, is the mad pursuit of progress; we must grow the economy: construct penthouses to the stratosphere, incentivize more lavish gated communities, additional colosseums for sports hero worship.
And more massage chairs! Don’t dare tell me that you can look squarely into that mirror and not see yourself sitting in your very own touch-screen, zero-gravity massage chair with body scan technology that locates your acupressure points and provides just the right amount of attention for those areas that require special massaging action.
Without flinching, if we would only stare into her mirror with more stamina, we’d be immeasurably disturbed. We would see that it is not only our way of life and our foot reflexology rollers that are threatened, but life itself. Greta Thunberg was disturbed: “I wonder, what will you tell your children was the reason to fail and leave them facing the climate chaos you knowingly brought upon them? … Our house is still on fire. Your inaction is fueling the flames by the hour. We are telling you to act as if you loved your children above all else.”
We’d see and call out the raw hubris and dangerous hypocrisy of statements intended to portray our values – like that from Rex Tillerson during his Senate confirmation hearing: “Quite simply, we are the only global superpower with the means and the moral compass capable of shaping the world for good. If we do not lead, we risk plunging the world deeper into confusion and danger.”
To that, COVID winks and teases, “Over here big boy – don’t keep that superiority all to yourself.”
In our heightened state of threat, the adrenaline ignites our corporate captains – Trump and Mnuchin among them – to persevere, stay the (golf) course, grow the GNP, whatever the cost.There was an epidemic of a different sort in Salem, Massachusetts, in 1692. Young girls were inexplicably having seizures which were “beyond the power of epileptic fits.” The Governor’s Council was hastily convened and the cause their affliction was determined to be – as reflected by the community’s belief system – the Devil, or more precisely, witches that had made a pact with the Devil. Nineteen of the accused were found guilty and executed by hanging.
We, the Enlightened, reflect on their superstitions with pity if not scorn. All the while, our president convenes his own circle of advisors: mostly male hedge fund managers, sworn to protect their pots of gold from this new Satan. Our benevolent Council of Elders.
Generations from now, I can only imagine and hope that those hardy band of survivors will look back at our current plight with pity, if not scorn.
After years of globetrotting, Todd J. Broadman finds himself writing from his perch on the Palouse and loving the view. His policy briefs can be found at US Resist News: US RESIST News - Info & Analysis of Trump Administration Policies