by Matthew Cornetta
"Solomon saith: There is no new thing upon the earth. So that as Plato had an imagination, that all knowledge was but remembrance; so Solomon giveth his sentence, that all novelty is but oblivion." --Francis Bacon
We have reached an impasse. This of course is only my opinion and it comes from a limited historical perspective.
I’ve spent my entire life studying history and have now come to the realization that it was perhaps in vain. It could be that I am trying to use the little history I know, to write here, a sort of piece which tries to explain that my life’s passion was not in vain. But that would only be the subconscious at work. Effectively, I tell you all, that today—in December of 1995—my studies are not worth a damn. ...Well, there is the literature, and culture and open-mindedness which history has helped me to cultivate—and there is the broader vision—the vision that sees things invisible to others... There is the inner fire too and the ability to live on five hours sleep.... These are all the beneficial things which result from nurturing a passion... Nevertheless, the end product is that I have no idea where we are to go from here. The "we" in this case is—society, the World......everybody. So, I am going to attempt to explore this question briefly, using my little historical "toolbox" and venturing off to voice mute shouts into the opposing wind....
It was the great German philosopher, Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel who saw the development of humanity as a great historical process, driven by a geist or spirit. According to Hegel, it was precisely this geist which impelled generation after generation to revolt against the inherited traditions of the older generations. Hegel liked to call the inherited tradition the, thesis. On the other hand, the revolting generations espoused what he called the, antithesis. Eventually after a struggle between thesis and antithesis there would be reached a, synthesis.
Applying Hegel’s philosophy, we can easily visit historical events and point out the roles which represent the thesis, antithesis, and synthesis. Most recently, we experienced these roles and their players in the great social and cultural revolts of the Sixties—a decade of pendulum swings between thesis (The old Right) and antithesis (The new Left) which led to a laid-back "me" or "now" generation attitude that could be called, the synthesis of the Seventies.
Now, the big question is: does that synthesis of the Seventies still exist? And if so, how is it manifesting itself in today’s culture? If not, then what is the synthesis—or for that matter what are the antitheses and the theses that serve as the geist, or driving spirit of our present day society??
I DON’T THINK THERE ARE ANY!
Have we reached "the end of history" as one essayist called it after the fall of the Berlin Wall? If not, then: Where are the struggles? Where is the geist? Where are the philosophical debates? Where are the great movements of art and literature and music? (It wasn’t by coincidence that these things just plopped down in the Sixties, or in the Twenties and Thirties—two more decades that nicely characterize the classic Hegelian struggle between thesis and antithesis—[for the Twenties and Thirties, World War II served as the synthesis.]).....
Yes, where is the music and meaning and the great sacrifices and the toasts to figures that do something noble—the beer halls and the characters....the wit??? Where is the chance taking...? Where is the devilish genius of a tooth pick sucking hobo who starts a revolution...? Where is our Mozart? Where is our Thomas Mann? Where is our Thomas Jefferson? Where is our Louis Armstrong? Where is our Edouard Manet? For GODDAMNED, JESUS H. CHRIST’S SAKE, where the hell at least is our Richard M. Nixon!!!??? At least he provoked—at least he embodied some sort of moment—some sort of opinion, as twisted as it sometimes might have been. But, Where? Where? Where?....
No, instead we have Bill Gates who makes it easier to play games and make money. We have Jim Carrey too and he is funny— but what the hell does that have to do with the movement of history—besides, I’ve seen ten times funnier at the local bar on a Saturday night. (Indeed, true comedy has always been the province of you and me—the common people. We don’t need to make overpaid heroes out of those that tell jokes.).... We have O.J. and that keeps us talking—but what about?? Come on now! If this is all we can come up with, our generation is going to look pretty pathetic in the 2060 edition of a Social Studies textbook..... Why are we not making and creating our own history? Why do we remake Batman and The Flintstones, and Guys and Dolls and Sunset Boulevard and Miracle On 34th Street and Sabrina and Pocahontas and Show Boat and re-runs re-runs re-runs..... And classic rock???? Ever hear those radio stations? "Your home for classic rock!" they say.... What the hell do they mean by "classic"? The stuff is fifteen years old! In terms of those chronologies, Beethoven would be rendered a subject for paleontology and not music.....
But here I am getting off the topic—desviando del cuento as we would say in Spain... (I couldn’t resist that.)... Now, why the hell are we glorying and wallowing in our baby-boom past? Why so sterile on everything—no edge at all—just have a salad and discuss the merits that Excedrin has over Tylenol or The Big Mac over The Whopper, or Clinton over Dole—it’s all the same anyway.... Anybody with a little vision can see that.
"Vision".... Didn’t I say that that was one of the benefits of studying history?.... Yes I did—it’s in the second paragraph. Indeed it is a benefit, but one that only allows you to see the pallid, recycled, disposable, consumeristic, swamp of a society in which we are now living... You see?? Now the question— Where do we go from here? is easily answered.
....We go nowhere but round and round—work—eat—little teli in bed—sleep—work—eat—little teli in bed— sleep—work—eat....And then! A variation....... work—eat—little beer in the bar—wake up late—puke—shower—consumer it up on money from work—then sleep—a little beer in the bar on money from work—scold yourself on not being frugal—slap your belly and think of a gym—join a gym on money from work—run out of money from work—late on the gas bill—get a credit card—play now—pay later—buy some dreams—break them three weeks later—break and trade and buy again on money from credit—lord a new car over your neighbors—envy your neighbors—blind yourself to your own faults—blind yourself to your own kids’ faults—blind yourself to your own friends’ faults—get totally blind—watch a little teli in bed late on a Saturday and stare right through the screen to your bedroom wall and then cry because you feel trapped and suffocated in a little zip-locked life—pick up some dignity again and learn a lesson—go on a vacation—discover you hate your job—look like a soulless mannequin, returning from Hawaii with work in the snow the next day.........work—eat—little teli in bed—sleep—work—eat—little teli in bed—sleep— work—eat—little teli in bed—sleep.........die.
.......The age of great movements is dead—now there is only the struggle for money, popularity, influence, information..... It is the age of palliatives, cures—little devices and gadgets that tickle our superficial egos—the age of stuff—of misunderstanding— of blips and sounds and bytes of bombardment— jagged firestorms of babble where no clean, straight, developmental lines shine through—where sawdust sticking in the sweat on a carpenter’s forearm no longer delivers goose bumps.... Instead there are "goods" which contain nothing more than a temporary superficial value— (perhaps that would also be an accurate description for humans—but I don’t like to think that, because at heart I am a Romantic—which, by the way, is another side effect of studying history.... I have yet to decide however, whether it can be listed as a beneficial or deleterious one...)
....Indeed, we are slaves of the great age of centralized "infomania"—moving like packs of cattle here and there—thinking everything different and special when everything’s really just the same... In such an environment, I gravitate toward the cynical ones—the ones who still have personality and individuality—the ones with a blithe spirit that says "I give a fuck—let’s get a beer and laugh..." Sure they may seem as outsiders—as thick-skinned malcontents who only bring bitterness to the world—but it is just the opposite. They are the only beautiful ones left because they take all that is material at face value.... And all that is spiritual—all that has to do with sincerity, and responsibility, and word—all that has to do with looking people in the eye— all that grows from soul and goodwill and from give and take, commonsensical generosity— on all that, they look as precious and thus they nurture it and engender it...
They protect themselves because it is an unsure world—indeed it is a scary world—where there is no longer any history—no longer any tap roots holding us fast against the winds of cyber-change— But then, perhaps it is precisely this cyber-change that presents itself as the new antithesis.... Perhaps, everything is simply taking it’s natural, historical, Hegelian course. That would mean that I’ve let my vision dim and have missed the signposts and road markers that any decent historian must be quick to pick up on.....
....Yes, perhaps I missed some deeper meanings in the O.J. trial and perhaps I totally missed the great spiritual significance of Sally Jesse Rafael—perhaps too, I failed to discern those grand differences between Republicans and Democrats in Congress—the ones who always seem to hold hands when they vote themselves a raise.... Perhaps I don’t understand health care either—I never was much for pork-barrels or donnybrooks or scams so I didn’t get to study them—perhaps that is why I don’t understand the great and weighty principles behind a hospital that orders fifty-thousand extra syringes and then throws them in a dumpster.... Perhaps I am missing all the real modern beauty behind a Christmas at the mall— and missing too, the character building and healthy pressure, put on us all, to look cute and proper and correct—like in television commercials—perhaps I am missing the idea that being one dimensional is better than being three dimensional (You know—less is more....?) —Hell knows I never read the paper anymore and I don’t vote (It’s hard to decide between a jack-ass and a liar—I mean they both have their ASS-ets and both their LIAR-bilities).....
But.... No, I’m not going to attempt to cull some kind of meaning— I can no longer play the game and exchange self-righteous and obtuse opinions with strangers...... I prefer, instead, to be with the more quiet, cynical ones—the ones who share their beauty among friends. I prefer to be with them and be a little socially ignorant and thick skinned—to walk cautiously on the fringes of all this CHANGE! PROGRESS! CONVENIENCE! PROSPERITY! AND LONGER LIFE!.......
No, thank you. We prefer to fry our own eggs in butter and live for what we will— live for however long we live and smiling occasionally— a deep smile steeped in the knowledge that we are safe from all that novelty—safe from all that oblivion....
Por vivir—por vivir—Jolines! Sencillamente por vivir!!