By David Glenn Cox
The dinosaurs had it too easy, I think. Minding their own business and tending to their dinosaur ways when Blamo! Fire and smoke, burning brontosaurus. Then came the announcement, “Attention, attention please! In case you haven’t noticed the world has changed forever. You may resume your apocalypse, and we thank you for your attention.” One day munching leaves in a lush tropical forest and the next Wyoming. There were no conversations “Do you think it will be better next year George?” The world had changed all they knew were now fire and smoke.
It has always fascinated me that the term Dark Age is a term the people of the time called themselves. Having come of age during the disco era I was familiar with the concept. But the local learned men would look at Roman roads and bridges and aqueducts scratch their heads saying, “How the hell do you suppose they did that?” Leaving a vacuum and an inferiority complex, “Look what your forebearers wrought!” as you fumble for your home-made rosary. A Sheilanagig under the bed to cut the pain, from ruling the world to afraid of the dark in ten easy lessons.
A collapsing government structure no longer able to govern effectively and before you can say Tiberius sheep are grazing at the Forum in Rome. They didn’t need the Oracle of Delphi to know which way the wind blows. There weren’t any meteors it wasn’t like they carboned up the atmosphere or set the rivers on fire or something stupid. The Empire had been built on Capitalism, slavery and indolence and the way they saw it two out of three ain’t bad. From slave to peon to peasant to Alternative measures for labor underutilization. Generations of human beings just trying to get along in the world in a world based on competition.
Name another species with trade wars or bigotry or the Ku Klux Klan. Green lizards in white robes with torches, “We swear on the blood of our sacred forefathers to defend the sanctity of green lizardom everywhere. We are the best lizards; god anoints only us, and all others are inferior.” Using God to bolster a stupid idea using one fiction to foist another. A romanticized fictional past of Norse Gods up on Little Round Top while ignoring the terror inflicted upon the generations of non-green lizards. There’s never a meteor around when you need one. Quite literally using their blood to lubricate the machinery of your society, and you want to commemorate that why exactly?
Change comes hard or turn it around and hard comes change and for all our alleged intelligence we’re not the brightest lot. In the year 2000 we thought the apocalypse was on us because our computers lacked two digits. In the year 1000 Christians waited on a hilltop patiently at midnight for Jesus to return on December 31, 999 like waiting for the ball to drop. Unaware that Jesus had never heard of that calendar and didn’t carry a watch. The idea that god would perform his miracles to conform to our time keeping won’t get you into Mensa.
Our meteor has a name, Donald Trump and is orange they way all meteors are supposed to be. The burning brontosaurus are piling up. Chucky Cheese, Tuesday Morning and J.C. Penny and the list grows. Major League Baseball is looking to eliminate up to 200 minor-league teams. The world has changed the glittering shopping malls of a past generation are relics now where the sheep graze. Only the marquee names remain The Mall of America is one payment away from foreclosure. How’s that for symbolism? The government frozen in Caligula’s madness operates on flattery, graft, and self-indulgence. A turtle named proconsul and a proud conservative papa with his brand-new son he’s kept secret all these years.
By order of his royal majesty Donald the Odd it has been decreed the pandemic is over. His adjutants and supplicants will now go forth and spread the good news across our land. You may now resume your normal daily life. Book a cruise take the kids for pizza or go to the gym for a workout and you might find the doors are locked. You can’t dictate reality even if you are his holiness Donald the Odd. The Sun King has decreed from Versailles that all is well with the world. What’s that smell? Is someone barbecuing? I smell charcoal!
Try to imagine a similar time in our history. JFK declaring Cuba to be fictional. Oh, well, there was that one time. Herbert Hoover was faced with an economic crisis said the following, “Republican prosperity has reduced hours and increased earning capacity, silenced discontent, “put the proverbial chicken in every pot.” And a car in every backyard, to boot.” One day later the meteor struck Wall Street, and everything had changed overnight all they had known was fire and smoke. They were the Dinosaurs about to be done in.
Tom Joad said, “It don’t take no courage to do something if you ain’t got no choice.” Change is at hand like it or not and there is a lot we need to change like it or not. The sins of the fathers are visited upon the sons and daughters to ignore or rectify. How stupid would a species be to poison themselves to collapse? How stupid would they be to poison their world with hate? Clinging to our simian ancestry, reaching for all the bananas, or sitting on the highest branch. Denying reality because we are afraid to embrace it. Unable to absolve our sins because we are unable to accept them as ours.