I must confess: Even after 9/11, the waters of patriotism, wrung from the tears of a nation, never washed over me. Sure, I felt horrible for all of those killed and injured, along with the countless loved ones who were also affected; but I can’t claim to have felt even the slightest inclination to rally around the flag. That’s due only in part, by the way, to the identity of the buildings that had been targeted. Being a peace-monger, the attack on the Pentagon only brought tears for the wounded, mortally or otherwise, not for any structural damage incurred. Nothing screamed “chickens coming home to roost” than a shot at “War, Inc.” A shame that the insurance company didn’t just simply total the whole building out.
The words “World Trade Towers” don’t exactly smack of patriotism either. Tall buildings, to be sure, on, of course, American soil. But New York City is more a symbol of international capitalism or world finance than Americana, with the Twin Towers being its literal and de facto pinnacle. More George Soros than Uncle Sam; more scone and espresso than Apple Pie. The loss of life so much more important than loss of any sense of prestige that those two phallic columns of now molten steel represented. For us or to the rest of the world, dang nab it.
As a former Chicagoan, now Stocktonian, if I feel any sense of loyalty at all — beyond family, friends and my parish — it is to my urban birthplace, where remnants of family still reside. And perhaps gradually to my new rural home. I take great offense to suburbanites claiming to be urbanites, and sub- and urban- ites claiming to be hillbillies. Even those of us with fewer ideas than teeth don’t claim that ridiculous label here, so we sure as hell don’t appreciate “weekend warriors” latching on to it.
Dread Scott Tyler
Nationalism and patriotism in this country are abstractions, intangibles out of necessity. Our “nation” of fifty still largely disunited states, founded by a motley crew of disaffected European mutts and misfits, can’t possibly hold a so-called patriot’s attention — let alone his allegiance — for very long. This country is geographically too big; demographically, too diverse; and governmentally-speaking, far too bureaucratic to do so.
We pledge allegiance to a flag woven of propositions. Blood spilled not of loyalty to a people, but to the ideals upon which those people have chosen to identify with. Either by birth, chance or oath.
Wars and the rumors of wars then serve the purpose of resolving an identity crisis for us, as identifying enemies, real or imagined, often do. But with a nation as phantasmagorical as ours, that need is all the more pressing; particularly when, due to occasional economic downturns, our identities as consumers are bound to suffer lapses as well.
I pray that God will one day bless America…with an ability for its people to recognize that they were never any more blessed — or cursed — than other people living on our fragile planet; and if one most love a place, let it be the one closest to where you have chosen to rest eternally. Forever peaceably.
This was used back in the ’80s as a recruitment tool, challenging young people to become more active in their communities. To, quite frankly, just give a damn.
“We look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen, are eternal.” — 2 Corinthians 4:18
When our society doesn’t even blink an eye at its government’s actions such as the bombing of Libya and the more recent ‘disinformation” campaign against Qaddafi, something is very wrong. When our local communities become plagued by racist violence and there is little or no opposition to this violence, questions aimed at the “hows” and “whys” need to be posed. People seem to find it easy to ignore these problems. They become apathetic and passive, as they attempt to “make it for themselves” by getting a well-paying job or by trying to feast upon the rewards of consumerism like mass-marketed designer jeans. People come to accept such things as racism and sexism as “just the way things are.” And although this country prides itself on its freedom, rarely is this freedom used to critically examine our society and its problems. Few alternative proposals are made for the direction of our communities or the world at large. We sometimes make the minimal political effort and select our politicians by the images they project to us across our TV screens. We place our trust in these politicians and allow for them to make decisions that affect each and every one of us.
When people do show concern, they meet with hopelessness and cynicism. There are no alternatives (or so seems) for people who care. Besides, the rewards of normalcy and not questioning a single thing seem so sweet. There’s always the comfort and security of “fitting in” with the regular ways of life….
What is so desperately needed is an alternative to all of this. Options for those who are concerned must be created. New ideas must be developed. Hopefully a concern for the state of the world (right down to its individual members) can be fostered. Simply caring is the first step….
We are not proposing new dogmatic organization that will tell its members what to think. We want something much more than this, for something much more is needed to change things. We want new ideas to develop free from control. We want open discussion that can help to define what is wrong and why it is wrong. We want a group that allows its members to think and work together. And by gaining a better understanding of the issues which face us today, we hope to do our part in finding solutions and changing what we feel is wrong in the world and our communities. We want to translate our concern into figuring out what should be done and then doing it….
If you think you like what you’ve just read and if you feel like helping out, please do so. We hope to involve as many people as possible. The group is yours. It will rely upon your involvement. All are welcome….
Some dead Greek guy once noted that “an unexamined life is not worth living,” so perhaps on a day that the media turns introspective, it’s not such a bad idea for us to do the same. But maybe instead of being resolute, it might make more sense for us to take stock; i.e., to review our own personal news, and not so much to notch the pros and cons of another year lived on this planet, but to understand and even underscore how events — in the broadest sense of that word — of the past year may have shaped us. Maybe in doing so, we’ll remember a friend who deserves a phone call, an organization in need of our donation, a chore left undone. Maybe we’ll recall a moment that we’d like to have back, a comment we regret, a hug we didn’t offer. More importantly, I suspect that we’ll realize that all of us are more than what our personal histories seem to make of us — that despite how overpowering fate appears, we have, time and again, willed something that took us off-course; that propelled us into uncharted waters, challenging the person we thought we were the year before.
