You know the tune.... "go together like a horse and carriage." The one, powerful, potentially dangerous, a kind of terrible beauty, then the carriage, outmoded, ignored by most, no longer romantic.
So here's our fated country, embedded in a struggle over death and union, fear and justice, while the Supreme Court sits there, divided, sullen and hopeful at the same time, male versus female, questioning, making snide comments, but beneath it all, doubting and cynical.
And over on Capitol Hill, the Fab Five, duly elected senators, stand firm against any challenge to our love affair with guns, big guns, rapid-firing guns that kill children by the score. These so-called representatives, who refuse to represent the majority, stand firm on what they call principles: freedom and privacy, both without borders.
It all raises the question, what do we Americans truly want to be? Evidently we don't want to be Europe: civilized, stagnant, indebted, but secure. We don't want to be China or Canada, the one charging ahead with centralized control, the other passive, polite, cold.
No, we just want to be America, land of the free, home of the bravado, fed fast, on the move, divided, fearful, dreaming of all we can be, and creating our destiny one disaster at a time, and dancing as fast as we can.
What is so sad is that in this frenetic America, we have no time to be thoughtful, reasonable, caring, at least not as a collective nation, but only in isolated pockets of reflection and concern. In these pockets of sanity life goes on with an undercurrent of anxiety, repressed but still evident.
The sad part is that this anxiety gets expressed by a diffused anger through social media. The diffusion is dangerous because it feels like action and protest, but isn't. We don't realize that making comments, tweeting, signing online petitions mean nothing. Politicians from Obama on down pay no attention to them. Only real personal communication gets through.
Meanwhile, the real actors in this American drama are storing up ammunition for what they believe is the apocalypse to come, while the rest of us tweet, write columns, and wait for spring and opening day. But spring is late and our heroes are on the disabled list.
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