The Revolution Is Here

Run DMC made me.

Sort of.

I grew up in a small town in Ohio in the '80s. At about the same time my fifth grade self started scratching out a world view, I dubbed a friend's copy of Raising Hell. After that...well...you might say it was all down hill. Hurtling toward a perspective that was simultaneously wide open and narrowly defined.

"Fuck Amerikkka, still with the triple K..." ---Ice Cube

Public Enemy. NWA. BDP. EMPD. Redman. Cypress Hill. Rakim. All of 'em trailed Run DMC fairly predictably. At best, that music told stories which didn't appear in my history books and never made the reels of the newscasts available to me. At worst, it violently condemned the majority of the dogmas which had been fed to me. Resulting in what would best be described as a very young, paling version of Black militancy. I viewed a lot of the things in this world--things like the US Congress, Nike and all basketball referees--not simply as enemies to be opposed to, but as special incarnations of evil.

"Every official that comes in/cripples us, leaves us maimed/silent and tamed and with our flesh and bones/he builds his home..." ---Rage

Hip hop, of course, is not the only music I've ever encountered. And Black militancy is not the only philosophy I've ever digested and spit back up, in some part, as my own.

As I've aged, supreme righteousness has given way to agnostic cynicism. Sort of. Maybe it's more like practicality at this point. It's very easy to snipe at the country you live in when your passions are tweaked by local injustices. But in the long, broad view so many of the things that I find fault with seem to be less about what is unique to the United States and more about the most common shortcomings of humanity in general. That recognition can be fleeting when witnessing the grossest of grievances in one's own backyard, but it has become part of the base of my personal belief system. It does, however, contrast sharply with hope. The salt that desperately needs some pepper to prevent a belief system from succumbing to a self-loathing fatalism.

"Now you know I'm only human, instead of all the things I'd like to be..." ---Gil Scott-Heron

America has a bloody history. Some of the ugliest moments in the whole human narrative.

Slavery. Annihilating the First Nations. Japanese Internment Camps. Jim Crow.

And that's just the easy stuff to condemn. Nevermind the pieces of the story that concern hoarding of wealth and resources. Or the unequal distribution of rights allegedly guaranteed all citizens. Or...well...I'll stop there. I think you get the picture.

But, in the big picture, what country is not bloody?

Nation building is not an idyllic endeavor. At best, it involves a war of words. At worst, men make oceans of blood in order to draw the boundaries separating them from their neighbors. Mayhaps, they kill their neighbors to get more land for themselves. Whatever the case, it's not a pretty picture.

What counts most, though, is what a nation does after the blood has been spilled.

"The Revolution is here..." ---Common

Let's suppose that a motivated group of Americans decided that we hated what America has become and agreed to re-revolt. Today, we wage a massive war and we win our revolution overthrowing the government in the process. Tomorrow, what are we gonna do? We have to build our own country. And what country are we gonna build?

*Pause*

That's a damn good question, inn'it?

We would have to build something. Otherwise, we'd run the risk of a counter-revolution. And all our efforts would be for naught.

Of all the different forms of government we could cut and paste or modify to our liking or create from scratch...are we really gonna come up with a remarkably better system than the one that is already in place and has been evolving for 230+ years?

Frankly, I think not.

Resignation does not hold an obvious place within the act of revolution. Within the process, though, it is a key component.

"Change is easy. Living it is hard." ---Kelly Tsai

I am a Bicentennial Baby. Not quite as Twy-centennial as my friend born on July 4, 1976, but born in '76 no less.

The bulk of the bloodiest, most unjust chapters of the American story precede my life. Among those chapters, there are many egalitarian pages. Whether charting the best or worst of times, I cannot say that America itself is solely to be lauded or denounced. Rather it is the people who created and maintained our institutions who deserve credit or blame.

It is the people whom this Grand Experiment has always been by. It is the people whom this Grand Experiment has always been for. It is the people who have changed institutions to make this union more perfect. Rather, more closer to perfect.

And it is the people who will always have to live with those changes. Even the ones that make us less perfect.

When we encounter those changes, though, that's when we get revolutionary.

Rather, more revolutionary. Than we already were.

Let's Talk About Patriotism

Let's talk about patriotism.

Why not? Everyone else is.

(Well, everyone who's not obsessing over tonight's big showdown between Kobe and Shaq, that is.)

Historically, my heart tends to bleed.

And, at previous points in my life, I've viewed symbols like the American flag, the National Anthem and the Pledge of Allegiance as gross reminders of all that was promised and never delivered. I'm not alone in that feeling. Disenfranchisement is contagious when the Joneses are 20 paces ahead of you and the Smiths are standing on your throat.

In the most recent years of what some would call my adulthood (it's a generous label for me, I know) I've taken to referring to the United States as the Grand Experiment.

In one breath, it is remarkable. Stunning. Mesmerizing. The absurd ascendence to the top of the world's moleheap in such a short amount of time despite nearly being ripped completely apart from within. The evolution toward the potential spelled out in its founding documents. The sheer vastness of all of it.

In the next breath it is puzzling. Incomplete. Exasperating. The lack of governmental courtesy/empathy (see: no apology for slavery). The ongoing double standard in our criminal justice system (see: Rockefeller Drug Laws). The half-assed intrusion into foreign affairs (see: do I really need to list these for you?).

For me, there are moments when it is cool as hell to live in the United States and there are moments when it is downright embarassing. On the whole, after 230+ years, I think there are more moments that inspire the coolness than there are that evoke the embarassment. Which, I believe, counts as a better than fair success rate if you buy into the notion of the Grand Experiment.

Does that make me a patriot?

Probably not.

But it does make me an American. For some better. For a lil bit of worse.

Today.

And tomorrow.

Which, I trust, will inch all of us closer to that deferred dream.

'Cause if it doesn't, then I'm moving to Saturn.

Un-Sick

I just saw Sicko.

It's pretty standard Michael Moore. Which means that it's heavy on editorial, highly provocative and, um, heavy on the heavy-set storyteller/demagogue.


I'm not all that concerned with Moore himself. Nor am I interested in analyzing his style. But I do give a dinosaur shit about the latest problem he's chosen to tackle: U.S. health care.

I personally have never heard anyone describe the current state of our health care as ideal. Or, for that matter, as sound. Even folks who loathe the work and opinions of Michael Moore think we have a crisis in dire need of a fix.

The way I figure it, there are two lessons to take from Sicko:

1) Doctors should not have to be businessmen.

2) The marketplace that guides U.S. health care needs to be turned upside down.

Any doctor who is in it strictly for the money is doing it for the wrong reason. Simple and plain. With so much of American life defined by how it generates profit, aren't there some things a little bit sacred that should be held above the bottom line? I get that capitalism requires all of us to think of ourselves as corporations, but I recall reading something somewhere about "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." And doesn't health care fall into the "life" category? We all do need it at some point. And no entity seems to be able to afford evolving costs. Rather, no entity wants to bear the costs as they are. Why not dial down the profit motives on all sides and let doctors just practice medicine?

As for the marketplace, the thesis statement from Sicko appears to be that the fundamental difference between U.S. health care and those systems employed by the U.K., France, Cuba, etc is this:

The U.S. system rewards deprivation of care while systems in other countries (notably France) reward proficiency of care.

IMO...that's pretty effed up.

It's not necessarily an endorsement of a single-payer system. But I do believe the private-public partnership that governs U.S. health care needs to be overhauled. Personally, I'd start with the incentive system. No one and no thing should ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever be rewarded for denying health care. Period.

I'm not sure exactly how to accomplish that. Other people have some ideas, though. The French, for one, don't have a perfect system. But they do seem to have their hearts in the right place.

I also think the guys who hate on Michael Moore might be onto something. Link again for the lazy.

I haven't found any other ideas that I'd be willing to subscribe to.

Yet.

Then again, I've only been trolling around the internet for an hour or two.

The answer ought to be in there somewhere. I'll keep digging and get back to you.