No Joy In Mudville

Whereas in dreams landscapes often change and even faces merge into rough composites of people we may have known, the dreamer always remains the same, encompassing all that we understand the core of ourselves to be. It therefore behooves us to make some modicum of effort in making inquiries of anyone we aim to enter into a contract with. If we should want to get the garage roof fixed, for instance, we would normally first seek references before deciding on a roofer.

Society, even a democratic society, always breaks down into a hierarchy of leaders for the rest of us to follow. Leaders are freely chosen on the basis of their resumes and our assumption that their intentions are similar to ours. When the actions of a leader approximate what we would do under similar circumstances, we can pretty much take it for granted that the leader has our best interests at heart.

Last night, on the John Batchelor Show, John ran a segment in which three of his guests were asked to recall their personal experiences back in the late 70’s, waiting in gas lines (on alternate days) to have their tanks filled. Curiously, all three drove Pintos. We all were so much younger then, but we all remember having participated in some capacity in the drill. Back then, we blamed OPEC and, to a lesser extent, president Carter’s ineffectiveness. It made for large headlines all over the country but never rose to the level of existential concern. After all, Ronald Reagan stood in the wings.

Today, a similar situation earns barely a whisper. True, so far there have been no shortages; only the price of fuel is spiking. Enough money will buy you anything. Still, it’s worrying as we are coming face to face with our own limitations in our need to keep up.

We’re not talking about it because we fear we already know the truth. And we’d rather not know. Every dollar we spend on oil goes to fuel our own destruction. And it’s being orchestrated by our own White House. Every policy decision our current leadership has made seems specifically designed to make us more vulnerable. There can no longer be any doubt: this re-distribution of our wealth in the name of atonement is fast approaching the limit of our endurance. Our dependence on oil remains constant even as our sources and options decline. We have been rendered literally powerless to save ourselves.

With Carter in office, we at least knew that things could possibly turn around with the next election. Now, we’re no longer so sure. Obama appears to have his second term well in hand. We may never get another chance.

That’s why we don’t talk about it. Instead, we grin and bear it. Two years - even one - seems like an eternity. Any plan to unseat Obama seems like a long shot. And though spring is approaching after a long hard winter, there’s not much joy in Mudville as the driving season commences.

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