The Debate: A Reflection of Interesting Times

Yes, we have the power to change the world... but alas, it's not a quick fix!

Soooo, about the sad event that everyone’s talking about, also known as the official presidential debate.

First things first. For perspective, I would like to offer a poll for practical peasants. There is only one question in the poll.

I am happy to share my answer. It is my opinion that we are ruled by a trolling mob—which is sad for obvious reasons, and I mourn it—but it also means that a CNN debate is just that, a CNN debate.

Furthermore, we have always been ruled by the mob! Prior to 2001 and to some extent prior to “COVID”, there was a certain veneer of people power. It was very superficial, of course, a marketing brochure—but from a practical peasant’s perspective, it was still a very useful brochure since the mobsters had to abide by the advertised veneer.

Well, now they no longer find it necessary to pretend too much! In that light, here is how I personally feel about the debate.

• Any power to influence the world that we had before the debate took place, we still have. It didn’t go away.

• Our most important power comes from the inside. Personally, because the mobsters use our trauma as a weapon against us, I think that our most important task is the healing of our individual trauma and of our generational trauma, and praying for guidance on how to live our lives during interesting times, how to protect ourselves, how to be dignified. Dealing with uncertainty calls for healing and for growing our souls, and I think that we depend on sincere, ongoing prayer to figure that challenge out.

• I don’t think that at this point in time, “elections” have a chance of saving us. Maybe they patch a thing or two, and maybe not even that. I don’t go to war over anyone’s political opinions or loves, it’s not worth going to war for, and I respect everyone’s free will—but I don’t think that we are going to be saved by any November outcome. (Here is what I wrote about being politically homeless in 2020, and here is what I wrote about electoral fear mongering almost four years ago. Decorations have changed since that time—but the overall plot remains.)

I don’t like to invest my practical hope in productions, I don’t like to put my hope into processes that I don’t think work. To my senses, all this is merely a production. There are many productions available to us that serve mainly the purpose of giving us, peasants, a feeling of being a part of an important event, an energy funnel, an illusory feeling of “making a difference” in changing the world (not attached to any avenue that actually changes the world). Like John Trudell said in this beautiful talk, they have many ways to “absorb” what we do, so we need to think from the inside and find new ways. I agree with Trudell!

Out of all candidates, predictably, I like Bobby—while wishing he had some compassion for the children in Palestine—but I imagine that day in November, the heat, the laments, the emotional disappointment, the expert opinions about why exactly the outcome didn’t pan out, the 2028 talk—and I’ll welcome a miracle but I don’t hold my breath and focus on the things I have the power to change, which is mainly internal learning that I can do and then share my knowledge with the world, use it to help other people be strong and make the world a more beautiful place. It’s a humbler task. It’s a necessary task. And it doesn’t depend on what other people do.

And the CNN debate? If you haven’t watched it yet and feel a bit masochistic, here is the debate.

Standards in the toilet

Now, let us talk about the tragic degradation of standards: intellectual, cognitive, behavioral, and so on.

When it comes to the plummeting standards for everything, it’s bad news—but they have been free-falling right before our eyes for a long time now, so the term “news” is not fair. :)

There is no pretending. The standards are, umm, gone. It is certainly sad and surreal that the standards are gone so completely that the President of the U.S. actually stumbles and mumbles, then receives a praise from his wife for “knowing all the answers,” etc.

So surreal, so strange. But it’s not like it was fine, and then out of nowhere, came this decay. The decay is a logical consequence of despiriting, the poisoning, the abuse—which are not new.

We are at a point where the facade is falling apart. It’s just us, it’s just us and the loving Spirit, between the Earth and the sky, with a prayer on our lips, with a prayer to do things right, and prevail, and be brave, and be loved, and walk tall, even in interesting times.

A Day in New York: The Ordinary Face of the Great Reset

A Tale of Eroded Standards

When No One Can Work, What Will We Do?

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