I Can See Your House From Here - Archives
vol 2 number 21
The more things change, the more they stay the same. What goes up must come down. What goes around comes around.
Clichés are reviled because they are cliché -- that is, true, repeatedly, time and again. They tend to be applicable, perhaps even universally. Take this year, for instance.
It's certainly not been dull. In fact, looking back, it's not hard to imagine the entire country of China wishing us a collective "May you live in interesting times," and not even being all that interested in controlling Taiwan after all. But, for all the unique moments that are burned into the brains of the average American, as the year winds down it seems that things are things, business is back to normal, and life rolls on in its best impression of a basketball in a busy suburban street.
It was, after all, the first penny in a new century, the first millimeter in a new millennium. Of course, we all completely passed this by. Some of us were too exhausted from the Y2K celebrations, some will still argue with me that the new millennium. began 24 months ago, and some didn't realize that the calendar had even changed because they were too busy surfing the Internet for paparazzi shots of Britney in the shower. Then there are those who were caught up in the stream of insanity that rolled over with the new year -- the Presidential election of 2000.
Only in America would you ever find a political race like this one. As great as it was for Saturday Night Live, good comedy does not a smoothly run country make (though frankly, I'm continually amazed that Will Ferrell has managed to create a consistent parody of a man who is already walking a fine line between good intention and self-satire). For months that seemed like really long months, two men who most people voted for because the only other choice was Ralph Nader (and who wants four years of Consumer Digest buzzkill?) argued over who the people had chosen. It was like tuning in to Larry King to hear Ebola and AIDS debate over which was the more popular terminal illness.
AIDS: "Well, Larry, I'd like to remind the good virus from the West Nile that I do allow people more quality time with their friends and families."
Ebola: "Larry, what Mr. AIDS -- sorry, HIV positive -- doesn't want to tell you is that he is nothing more than a gloryhog, a puppet virus who takes all the credit while other illnesses do all the work."
The end result? Some good, some bad: outmoded voting machines are being reconsidered, often replaced. The worst case scenario has now taken place, and presumably this sort of thing is not quite so likely to have such a paralyzing effect on the nation in the future. We no longer had to hear any more about stained blue dresses. Daryl Hammond is out, Will Ferrell is in. And schoolchildren everywhere will one day know that there is a country in Africa named after those hole-punches that don't quite go through.
Finally drawing some attention away from Bush's tainted victory was what seems like a flurry of bad news. Dale Earnhardt became NASCAR's most prominent tragedy; across Britain, cattle were slaughtered wholesale as an outbreak of hoof in mouth disease threatened to lend flavor to the traditionally bland English menu; Napster justified theft in the hearts and minds of youth everywhere, and Gary Condit proved that he is a better politician than any in office by lying his way into deeper investigation.
In June, Timothy McVeigh was put to death; the worst case of domestic terrorism in modern history found closure. Three months later, Timothy McVeigh was the source of a bad case of deja vu as the World Trade Center came crashing to the ground, along with the American sense of security and freedom. As the days and weeks passed, a terrorist attack on American soil became the end of militant rule by a government recognized as official by only two other countries, a country afraid to open its mail, and more idiocy from Saddam Hussein. Even now, at the end of the year, the fighting in Afghanistan and the search for bin Laden continues, strains of anthrax still show up on the instruments, and Saddam is still an idiot.
On a different plane, the dotcom world underwent a radical shift from booming future of mankind to object of ridicule and scorn. The Hollywood year was largely a bust, with no really good news to speak of until the recent release of Harry Potter and the hype over Lord of the Rings. The music industry was dying, thanks to Napster (and the amazing ability of record label executives to spin lies from nothingness), and television belongs to CNN and MSNBC. Comic books came and went, as did best selling books by the usual gang of wordsmiths.
Closer to home, I watched one dotcom die a slow and protracted death, and another one rise from those ashes. One band splintered into another, while I left to play support for longtime friends. Another screenplay or two in the can, and more songs and short stories come sporadically. I'm another year older, another year closer to a second bachelor's degree, another year farther from being a bachelor. I've met a lot of people, and fallen apart from as many. I've gotten rid of a lot of junk, and filled the spaces with things equally useless.
In nature, there are very few perfect vacuums. If you take one thing away, another quickly moves into its place, whether we're talking about a local nature path becoming a strip mall or a Mom and Pop bookstore becoming a Best Buy. As the years continue to peel away, there will always be wars and famine, political scandals, religious controversies. The bad entertainment outpaces the good, and Wall Street will maintain its position as the wildest roller coaster ride in the world.
There was talk a few years back of the new millennium. ushering in a change; the nature of that change was dependent on whether you viewed the glass as half-full (a new prosperity, goodwill, and worldwide peace) or half-empty (unprecedented war, global disasters, and a new Michael Jackson album). All the talk only serves now to reinforce my belief that that particular cliché is half-full of shit, as life continues on like it always has.
Sure, there are little differences. Airports are a little more of a pain in the ass, police and firefighters temporarily got the respect that they have deserved for so long, and Americans are proud to be so, if only for a little while. In the end, though, we're still quick to judge people based on the color of their skin or what God they choose to follow. We blame anyone but ourselves for the problems that face us day in and day out. We relentlessly pursue the almighty dollar, even at the cost of our integrity and (occasionally) happiness. We scream and bitch about Jar Jar Binks and thirty minute pod races, but turnout to buy and rent the DVD in ridiculous numbers. We preach fidelity and honesty as we meet our mistresses at the bars and gamble away our children's college funds. We make promises to our friends and families with the sincerity of a New Year's resolution, and entrust our destinies to the lowest seller.
Perhaps we should offer the Chinese one or two of our spy planes, intact, even; in return, all we ask for is a year or two without them wishing interesting times upon us.
To quote Wade Kwon, writer of Wade's Weekly and features editor at the Birmingham Post Herald , "As we slide into 2002 with tentative sighs of relief, it's reassuring to know that terrorists can never take away our fundamental right and duty to trivialize a year's worth of events in a single clichéd sentiment: That's life."
As for me, I'm going to do my best to encourage and enact change. I'll start with myself, even: no more clichés. I know, it's not a lot, but every great journey starts with a single step.
What? Aw, damn.