Speaking of Ted Rall's stuff, I came across the following piece in his blog, written by someone else. I'd like to think it's not overly idealistic, although the pragmatic side of me says it is. Still, just imagine what this country, this world, could be like if the expressed ideas weren't idealistic but realistic:
Sunday, May 11, 2008
**** the Electionposted by Susan Stark
I
have cared very little for elections ever since I realized that (1)
they can be stolen, and that (2) even if my candidate wins, they don't
necessarily do what I voted for them to do.
But since this is
election year, I thought I would give a present to all of you reading
this blog. This is an article by a man named Joe Carpenter that I think
every working and poor person on this planet should read. It is as
follows:
I’ve never understood the idea of speaking truth to
power. The truth, surely, is that in almost all countries of the world,
political and economic systems are designed to benefit only the rich
and powerful, at the expense of those with less money and power. This
is how the world works, and I see no reason to think that the powerful
don’t already understand that. After all, they designed it; they
maintain it.
They steal our money, sacrifice our children in
their wars, send the poorest and most victimized among us off to jail
for petty mistakes, and crush those of us who might present a real
threat to the arrangement. They know we don’t like it. They don’t care.
They don’t need to care. They also control most of our avenues of
dissent. It’s a very simple, very elegant design.
Meanwhile, we
get angry and toddle off to tell the truth to the powerful. We have
been telling them the truth for centuries. We travel to their great
palaces by the hundreds of thousands, to express our anger and despair.
We shout and sing and stomp and whine. We threaten. We plead. Sometimes
we’re beaten up, or sent to jail. It’s a tradition of great courage and
personal sacrifice, no doubt.
We go to tell them to stop using
our money and our children and our energy and intelligence to further
rob and rape and murder us. We tell them to be more respectful and
compassionate. We’re like angry but terrorized children, anxiously
scolding our stern, all-powerful parents. And, in the end, we look to
the Democrats or to some congressional panel or to the Supreme Court
and demand that they come to our aid. As my friend Harry puts it:
"We’re left in the terrible position of trying to decide which elite
group will be less likely to prey on us."
Well, the government
and their pals are not going to stop using and abusing us. They’re not
going to stop preying on us. They cannot stop! Republican or Democrat,
they are rich and powerful precisely because they prey on us. They are
rich because they rob us. They’re robbing us right this minute. They
are powerful because they dominate every aspect of our lives, because
they’ve taken control of all the major social, political, economic, and
communication systems in the world. These systems were designed to
increase their wealth and power by taking both from all the rest of us.
But,
we are not children, and they are not our parents. We’re not little
people and they are not big people. We’re not insignificant and they
are not significant. In fact, we do not need them.
They are very
few and we, here in the US alone, are roughly 300 million. We don’t
need to rush out to tell the few that they are abusing the many. They
already know that. We need to stand upright and walk out to tell the
many that they are being slowly devoured by the few, for -- incredibly,
they do not know. We need to look to our next door neighbors, and to
their next door neighbors and to the folks all along the block. We need
to tell the truth to each other -- for we are the answer.
While
hundreds of thousands of anti-war demonstrators gathered in Washington,
DC, back in September, hundreds of millions of American citizens went
about their business without even a vague awareness of the protests.
The media to which most of them attend barely mention such things --
obviously. And, most Americans don’t live in the DC area, so they
didn’t see a thing.
Most Americans live in my neighborhood, or
in your neighborhood. Most Americans eat breakfast right next to you in
the local café. Most Americans get their car fixed at the same garage
as you and I do. Most Americans visit my library, my bookstore, my
grocery store, my local park -- or yours.
But the rich and
powerful have convinced us that we cannot -- we must not -- communicate
with the people we can see and hear and touch, right here, right now.
They have convinced us that we need to travel to some government office
to persuade elected officials and bureaucrats to change our world for
us. The government and media drone on, endlessly, hypnotically, and
convince us that if we just elect the right leaders, they’ll talk to
our next door neighbor for us.
Government programs, they promise
us, will fix that gaping hole in the pavement right out beyond your
driveway. Government will help poor Mrs. Wilson, languishing in the
old, dilapidated house right across the street. Government will settle
your dispute with that family right down the block. Government will
take care of your neighbors who can’t escape the hurricane:
"It’s
OK, just hop in the SUV and go, we’ll take care of everything!"
Government will help; government will heal; government will bring us
together.
That’s not going to happen, of course. The elites are
too busy dividing us, setting us against each other, exacerbating every
animosity, every misgiving, every anxiety, however slight. They
insinuate themselves into every new crack and crevice and offer
convoluted, expensive legislation and bureaucracies to bring us back
together again. "There oughta be a law," says the old complaint. Well,
there will be, to be sure -- but it will just make things worse.
We’re
all looking in the wrong place for reason and compassion and justice.
It’s not anywhere to be found in Washington, DC. It’s not in
governments or state houses. It’s not there in that prestigious
gathering of experts and big brains.
It’s right here. It’s
wherever you are, and it’s right next door and it’s everywhere along
your street and all around your neighborhood. It’s in the cars that
pass you on the roadways and in the shops where you buy your dog or cat
food. There’s no need to travel a thousand or even a hundred miles.
It’s not necessary to make the climb up to the penthouse. Our hope, our
possibility -- our only hope, our only possibility, lies in the
ordinary people who compose our world, who are the very stuff of our
lives.
Want to change the world? Tell the truth to the plumber.
Begin with the lady who hands you the stamps at the post office. Talk
with the checkout people at the grocery store. Chat with the waiter at
your favorite café. Speak with the cops who sit down at the next table.
Gab for a few minutes with the guy who changes your oil or with the
elementary school teacher with whom you’ve been discussing your child’s
future. Lean out of your window while stopped at the light and tell the
truck driver some truth he’s certain to recall and ponder.
Feel
the need to march? Gather a bunch of folks and wander about your
neighborhoods with signs and leaflets. When people walk by, stop and
gab with them. When that huge guy with the Hemi-powered Ram pulls
alongside and tells you to "love it or leave it," ask him to stay and
talk. Smile, offer your hand, make nice. He’s one of us. He’d make a
wonderful ally. When a carload of high school jocks slows to offer some
single-fingered communication, hand them some cold colas and tell them
about the probability of a draft. They’re our people, too. Convince
yourself that this is so, then convince them.
Get together with
like-minded people and think of simple, brief, meaningful ways to
communicate with the folks all around you. Think about little things,
easy things, immediate things. Think about what you can do together,
and what you might accomplish alone. Think about your real day-to-day
life, and how many opportunities there are to educate and enlighten,
every day. Blab and babble and blunder and tell the truth, one ordinary
person at a time. We’re all ordinary people, and we are our only hope.
Tell the truth to the guy who pumps out the septic tank -- he’s one of
us! Forget about telling the government, forget about the hot shots.
To
the extent that we believe we need them, exactly to that extent will we
continue our dependence upon ruthless, murderous plunderers, people
entirely opposed to our needs and deepest longings. As long as we
believe we need them, exactly that long will we live life on our knees,
begging -- as Mickey Z.
says -- for crumbs from their table.
The
depth of our apparent need is the measure of their height above us. The
nightmare of our poverty is our dream that they have a right to take
our money. The illusion of our impotence is the chimera of their
monstrous strength. We shall be slaves as long as we’re convinced that
we have masters, and not one moment longer.
Time to wake up,
time to grow up. We’re not children. We do not need to ask permission
to live like sane, reasonable, thoughtful, compassionate human beings.
We do not need to beg or bow or kneel. We do not need to look to
government or to experts or to the rich and famous. Whatever we need,
we can get it ourselves. Whatever we want to stop -- we can stop it
ourselves. Whatever must be done, we can do it ourselves. We do not
need them; we need each other.
All else is distraction and delusion.
Joe Carpenter is a guy living in Southern Oregon who has traveled extensively and kept his eyes open. He can be reached at: joecarpenter@charter.net.
And
now that you've read this article, I'd like you to send it to every
friend, co-worker, family member, and neighbor you can think of. http://www.dissidentvoice.org/Nov05/Carpenter1102.htm
who wanted their companies to survive would be