13. Unlucky for some.

"Everything's got space between it, the planets, trees, your eyes. Your eyes get too close together, it's a whole different world. You can lose perspective."
~ Mos Def

68.

As a human being, everyone likes to think that they're special. It's the grand conundrum of being a "sentient being." I guess the term, "I think, therefore I am," is about as good as a term as any for this misguided sense of worth. We all, on some level, think that just because we "are," that there is some sort of meaningful purpose or grand design, or some divine providence that makes us unique and worthwhile. On some base level, I guess that I somewhat agree with this. After all, admitting to the contrary would make my existence flawed and without worth, would it not? However, as the spiral moves outward, it's important to look at things from a much larger perspective. For example, I do  a lot, mean a lot and have an outcome over what happens in my house on a daily basis. But how much does my presence change what takes place on my street? Surely if I burned down my house, or drove into my neighbors kids, yes. But on an average day, anyone could live in this house, and it wouldn't change a goddamned thing that takes place on my street. Things certainly wouldn't change on my block. I've seen people come and people go since moving into this house. Aside from giving me something to gawk at and talk about for maybe 30 minutes, the lives of my neighbors hasn't miraculously changed the way in which I live, so the argument could certainly be pointed in the other direction. 

And that bodes the question of what this town would do without me living, breathing, playing and working in it. I have to come the logical conclusion that since the town got on just fine before I decided to grace it with my presence, that it would continue to do just that in my absence. Yes, I can vote in elections, my tax dollars go toward the welfare of the citizens and I'm sure that if I do what anyone who thinks rationally does, and buys from local purveyors, farmers and whatnot, that I directly contribute in some small way. But all of that only exists as a mere fraction. My vote only counts if the bill gets passed. Companies won't shut down because I bought my coffee at Starbucks one day, and Ma Kettle's Cafe and Bakery the next. Hannaford's big name brand lettuce in my salad won't kill Old McDonald's farm. I'm not even a cog in the wheel....I am simply a molecule in the lubricant of the machine. Knowing that, I certainly don't think that anything short of killing a Governor would ever make my day-to-day hum-drum mean anything on a state level. I compete in no events, work for no government agency, and find that writing letters and voting almost never yield the desired results (see George W. Bush), so that fairly kills me in the broad spectrum of the nationals. I won't even do myself the disservice of thinking about myself in global terms. I've never once set foot outside of this country. 

The funny thing about most of this, is that it's true for a lot of people. For the average household, this is life. It's focusing on the little things; the family, the job, the weeks of vacation, affording that new car, that little bit of free time, that makes life seem livable. You meet a man or a woman, you become special to them, you become a part of something small, but larger than just you. Friends, work, local charity. This all means something to the individual, yet nothing to the world at large. And that's the trick to all of it; taking pleasure and finding happiness where you can. 

The ability to use tools doesn't make me anything more than what I am, and the ability to think in a cognitive form doesn't make me anything but lonely. But even if I were a potted plant, I would still be.  

So I'm not even sure that "I think, therefor I am," really means much, when you really start to thi....ahhhh. See what I did there?  

67.

I was born in a marriage between rebellion, unity and air; birthed at the end of an arm and raised to show dissent, compassion and solidarity. I am Black Power, White Power, and have graced the Spanish Civil War. I have graced Afro Picks, occupied Wall Street, and banned medal winners from competing in the Olympic Games. Indeed, I have caused racial tension, been mistaken and can be considered a symbol of hate, even though I know of no such thing. After all, everyone that uses me thinks that they are somehow just. I am the Red Salute; held high on a Marxist right, while my anarchist left is held aloft by libertarian socialists. I am Food Not Bombs, Women's Liberation, the Italian Radical Party, and the People's National Party. I am United Farm Workers, Socialist Youth Front, and the Jewish Defense League. I stand for Anarcha-Feminism, the Antifeminist Movement, Black Panthers and The Rotfrontkämpferbund. The friends of my friends are my enemies and I am their friend, as well. I stand for oppression and peace, dominance and submission. I am used, misused, misguided and distorted; giving hope, holding on, breaking down and building up. I am new, old, washed up and squeaky clean, but more importantly, I am stronger than the five parts that make me. But who am I?

62. 

For need of dollars, the beer was lost. For want of the beer, patience was lost. For want of patience, the relationship was lost. For want of relations, the pride was lost. For want of pride, the home was lost. For want of a home, the job was lost. For want of a job, the income wast. All for want of some income for beer.