American Civics
The Price of Silence

The Mobius Strip is DEFINITELY Fake News


I was a grubby little drop zone rugrat; self-sufficient by necessity, until there was no other way to be. Therefore, my words were my words, and my thoughts my own. Stuff happens when you don't censor little kids. Maybe you get Lord of the Flies or maybe the broader universe stays open a little longer than it might.

By the end of August there is a broad swath of tall grass, more than head high in some places. It cuts itself a clearing between two cornfields, and before the harvest takes the corn, the field is a temple. The Gods live in the rows between the corn, and the Oracle is in the middle. 

I am prone on my back with one arm thrown over my face to block the light. It is too much all at once. The field moves under my body and I am only alarmed by grownup size footsteps and ants that bite. The rest is just field static. It would be more alarming if it stopped. I shift my arm to get a better look at the sky and when the angle is just right, I freeze and try very hard not to blink.

I do this because I am looking for infinity. I found it once and I want to find it again. I understand a little about gravity and I know the world spins on its axis. I don't really understand axis and I don't much worry about it. I know I am looking into a sky that goes forever. There is no sudden wall to divide it from this and that and when I found about about the mobius strip, I was livid. 

I wondered what would happen to all trees if the world stopped spinning. I wondered, would they uproot themselves and fly above the atmosphere. I wondered what would happen to all the water in all the swimming pools. I did not wonder about the ocean, I didn't really know it yet. If the earth came to a dead stop would we all die? Sky divers die when they come to an abrupt stop without a parachute. It's called 'bouncing' and I think about dodge ball. I have not seen this thing yet and right then, in that field, I do not believe I ever will. I do not believe I ever will because this drop zone is the safest place in the world where no one makes mistakes and everyone follows the rules. 

That, apparently, was fake news. 

When I was a little older, still looking for infinity, I wondered if everything anyone told me was just made up. I could roll over and dig in the dirt and still prove some things well enough, but anything outside my immediate grasp was somewhat suspect. I didn't believe the world was flat. I was quite clear about dinosaurs, and by nine I knew plenty about what happened in the camps in WWII. By the time my father sat us in straight back chairs to watch a narrated version of the Nixon impeachment trials, everything was suspect in its finality. 

I decided there was no such thing as a single truth and I wondered how much I couldn't see. This made me very uncomfortable; but a couple hours on a Sunday afternoon spent staring into the blue could take the edge off just about anything. Except hunger. Hunger, of any sort, is a terrible distraction.

By the time we are twelve, we are all hungry.

I've spent the last four years looking for infinity. Somehow I've got it wired that all the answers are up there, out there, past 'us'. Or bigger than us. That brief glimpse, back in 1972 suggested that boxes and borders and affirmative and negative weren't absolutes. Is any wonder I fell in love with Erwin Schrödinger? He'd only been dead a few years when I was born. Who's to say there wasn't overlap?

I'm not going to find the infinity the Oracle showed me, because that time is looped elsewhere; but I can't get past the narcotic of True Truth. That's what it is, defined truth, it's a narcotic. And now we have a phrase for it: we call it Fake News.

These are my seditious thoughts and the reason I periodically write somewhat entertaining letters to the NSA:

What aren't they (they: anyone, including me) telling me? What untruths, or partial truths can't I see? What truths do I refuse to see? It's getting harder every day to pretend all is right on my island. This is when the morphine stops working on a Centrist. 

I want to know every little bit of what's wrong with 'us'. I already know every little bit of what's wrong with 'them', right? I just cannot imagine how we could be so easily duped by our own party. Gotcha, right? Hope so.

I cannot, in any world, imagine that we don't carry equal if more weight of this burden. Everything's a land grab, always has been a land grab, and to the victor goes the crown and the story. I want to know what we've been doing. I figure it can't possibly be good because there are way too many of us way too certain that THEY are bad and evil and 100% at fault for whatever ruckus we're discussing today. 

MAGA has their own 'Hitler'. I want to know who ours is. I think that would be helpful in terms of making meaningful decisions. I don't look too hard though; I really am afraid of what I might find. I haven't made enough peace with my life to be able to deal with that much heartbreak. 

But I do really wonder what it is that I cannot see. 

Don't you?

"...You can't overlook the lack, Jack
Of any other highway to ride
It's got no signs or dividing lines
And very few rules to guide
I spent a little time on the mountain
I spent a little time on the hill
I saw things getting out of hand
I guess they always will
Now, I don't know but I been told
If the horse don't pull you got to carry the load
I don't know, whose back's that strong
Maybe find out before too long..."
New Speedway Boogie - GD