resident bush: because the sheeple never learn.

Adulthood Is Child’s Play

When I was about 5 years old, one day I was standing at the sink, washing my hands, becoming annoyed that the water was splashing all over me, getting me wet…becoming further annoyed remembering that pretty much every time I washed my hands the water would soak me…and, suddenly, I heard my inner adult ask, “so why do you always turn the water on, full blast?” Defensively, I reacted, “because I like it hard.” And the grown-up casually returned with, “why do you like it hard?”

I thought for a moment, and, watching the high-velocity spray shoot from the faucet, realized I felt a “grrrrrrrr,” inside. That was a surprise. And confusing. I was being “mad through the water?” But the thought quickly passed, and I returned to the important issue — I liked it hard. I just didn’t like taking a shower every time I washed my hands.

“A softer stream works just as well, doesn’t it?” I adjusted the flow and admitted — it did. But, “I don’t know why…I don’t care why…I like it hard, and I don’t like getting wet.”

“Well, water splashes when it’s run hard. That’s just the way it goes. So if a softer stream works just as well and you don’t like getting wet, why are you doing that?” Wow. Why was I doing that?

As much as it embarrassed me, I had to admit that — I wanted to be angry. I wanted to let something out, so I turned the water on high, got a soaking, and then had “something to be angry about.” It was my introduction to subtext, and I found it fascinating.

“Why am I doing this” and “why is s/he doing that” became my constant companions. It was hardly an easy relationship [the answers are rarely pleasing], and it quickly became clear that no one else liked my little friends — because almost everyone is looking for an excuse to be angry, and almost no one is willing to acknowledge their inner grrrrrrrr…

[redacted]  “I’m not sure if it’s because we’re strung out on ‘Lost’ episodes, or if it’s because we’re still suffering from a post-9/11 stress disorder that makes us crave ‘breaking news’ alerts, or if it’s because the economy has turned us into distraction junkies. But one thing is painfully obvious: Our society is addicted to fake outrage.”

Why am I doing this? Asking the question regularly stopped me in my tracks. Although the answer was, occasionally, “because someone has to do this,” more often than not it boiled down to, “because you’re [choosing to be] an idiot.” And once I saw that I was [choosing to be] an idiot, the idiocy fell away.

Years later, I learned that such questions are an integral part of many spiritual practices, and “what are you pretending not to know” became my new best friend.

What are you pretending not to know? All these years later and I’m still gobsmacked by the question. Its simple beauty takes my breath away, whether asking it of myself or others [and, as a method of transport, “why am I doing this” is fuel-inefficient, in comparison]. Best of all, there’s no circumstance to which it does not apply.

What were we pretending not to know in 2000? That Bush wasn’t really a Christian or a cowboy or “one of us.” That few in America actually “value life.” That the “supreme” court acted anti-Constitutionally. That we the people could have done more than make [idle] threats about “next time.” The list is endless, and we continued pretending, even when “next time” proved no different than “last time.”

What were we pretending not to know in 2001? That, in “real life” terms, few Americans were affected by the fall of the World Trade towers or the resulting deaths. That the buildings were collapsed by demolition. That our government had more reason and ability to cause such destruction than did “foreigners.” That foreigners who “hate our freedoms” was a ludicrous explanation for said destruction. That there were no “weapons of mass destruction” to be found in Iraq. That the invasion and occupation would not be “a cakewalk.” That our reaction to “9/11” was just an excuse to release our collective grrrrrrrr…to “be mad through the military.”

What are we pretending not to know in 2009? That, when we are continuing our invasions and occupations, spilling the blood of innocents, spreading depleted uranium [rather than “democracy”], and denying to others all that we wish for ourselves, “the economy” is not the most important issue we face. That having “a Constitutional scholar” in the White House means squat when his every action and promise are decidedly anti-Constitutional. That Obama is adored because we choose to believe our projections rather than know him by his fruit. That creating a future of want and indentured servitude for our progeny, for no reason other than to assure we’re required to make no changes in [let alone apologies for] our own behavior, is unconscionable. That “9/11” was an inside job, and that our government won’t hesitate to pull another when we need to be distracted, once more.

Perhaps a better question would be, “how much longer will you pretend not to know?”

“Ignorance is bliss” is no substitute for the original, “if you believe that when ignorance is bliss ’tis folly to be wise, you are indeed a fool.” Anon

P.S. When you’ve stopped pretending, you’ll appreciate this [follow the link to read the sentiment unedited for brevity]:

Dear Federal Government…drop dead. It’s true that, in public, we often agree with you, even appear to defer to you. But this happens not out of respect; rather, it arises from the fact that you have a lot of guns and a bad temper. Inside, we are seething and resentful. Inside, we imagine your demise in the most vivid and gratifying of ways. We may fear your irrational and violent behavior, but we do not respect you. We don’t love you. We don’t even like you. Look in the mirror for once. The emperor not only hasn’t got any clothes, he’s a quadruple amputee demanding that everyone admire his muscular physique.


  1. Fausto says:

    Everything in this world change crazy when Boosh stole the election with your supreme court help. I don’t know America any more.

  2. Rak says:

    I get scared when I think about the future now and I never see hope for anything. Why people let this happen? Now it’s too late. You write about terrible things in a funny way. I like your blog.