Friday, December 03, 2004

Memories lost...

Can you remember everything? Too many times have I thought to myself, “What was I just about to do? Guess it wasn’t that important.” The art of thought and loss of thought…

What ever happens to lost memories? Do they drift off like butterflies? Do they disappear in thin air? Do they board a plane to St. Elsewhere? Do they hide under our beds? They have to be somewhere, maybe where the mind can’t wander? A safe haven and refuge of sorts.

Memory doesn’t quite serve me correct. Too much has been forgotten with no “Lost and Found” department to reference.

Characteristic of a progressive mind:
That’s gotta be it… forward thinking leaves the past, well, in the past. But too many times do I remember things from years, months, days, minutes gone past and can’t seem to lose sight of mind.

Thoughts die. If that’s the case consider my thoughts endangered species. They live incredibly fast past lives and die young, within minutes. A few tend to stay for the long run. Quite a few have defeated the odds… the exceptions to the rule of mind, mine that is.

Regret may be interpreted as a motive to lose thought and insight to actions gone wrong. Perhaps it’s the single cause to memory loss? Still don’t get it… lemme esplain ay.

Americans suffer from the worst kind of memory loss. Actually, from the moment pilgrims landed on Plymouth Rock, memory loss has played a huge part in the development and colonization of this self-proclaimed “greatest nation on earth.”

These English immigrants were here (on the “new land”) to escape persecution in their old country only to oppress and persecute Native Americans… as Ali G would say, “Isn’t that being a bit of a hypocriticalist?” You get the point. How quickly one forgets when the once oppressed prosper. Blacks owned slaves too you know…

Fast forward a couple hundred years or so…

Thanksgiving came and went, the holiday season began, and the media forgot to remind us (yet again) what the real meaning of Thanksgiving is. No silly, it’s not having your fat uncle come over, drink your beer, clog your toilet, and embarrass you in front of your new girl. Not that either silly, it’s not about eating hormone injected, antibiotic taking turkey. It’s about genocide kiddo.

You know those savage Indians that own those big bright casinos you pass by while driving to Palm Springs? The so-called pilgrims never ate turkey with them. They kinda killed most of them, and gave them small pieces of land where they can do whatever they want. Have a pow-wow, light a fire, and sweat in a fiery hole… you know, Indian stuff. That doesn’t seem fair does it? Look in your history book and read about this thing called Manifest Destiny. Grab a bag or kneel before the porcelain God, last Thursday’s turkey just might make a guest appearance in pink vomit form.

Today, the only manifest destiny I see is that of an uprising of progressive thinkers… obviously an election is by no means an effective way to create change. I’m going to have to agree with Socrates on this one. Dumb people should not be allowed to make decisions as they relate to government. This means you Bush, red states, next door neighbors. Leave the thinking to the thinkers, mmkay?

Most importantly, what Americans have forgotten above all else is the fact that we’re human’s before being American, Mexican, Italian, Chinesse, etc… We didn’t choose to be American, we kinda just ended up here, so seize the opportunity to make a difference, don’t seize the opportunity to make a lot of money, have three kids, buy a house and chain yourself to a piece of property for 30 some odd years… last I checked, dead people don’t own shit, literally.

But what can I do, you ask?

First, educate yourself. Hit up spots like alternet.org, michalmoore.com, peta.org… listen to KPFK 90.7… read Chomsky, Zinn, Marx, Lucio Rodriguez Jr., etc. (scratch the last one)… stop consuming like rabbits have sex… listen to the Bobs (Marley & Dylan) QUESTION TELEVISION… question everything, including me… think… and love.

A little memory goes a long fucking way.

- Lucio

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