America Unbalanced

I feel like "talking to America" is kind of a ridiculous idea. It's like talking to an imaginary friend. Today on "Private Conversations with America" little Jimmy wonders if it's still ok not to like brussel sprouts even though they are Organic. America says it's ok as long as Jimmy goes outside later and plays Army with the neighbor kids.

I don't know where this is going. I don't often have conversations with America. Not at least like the one described above. My conversations always feel more like a near collision where America is at fault. When I think of America, when I imagine myself in Americas presence I think of myself waiting in line behind the old lady who is paying for twelve dollars in groceries with a check and some loose change. Old and slow you are set in your ways America. You can't see over the steering wheel and you think that you are the only one on the road.

I'm angry America. And I'm tired of holding it in. I've said a lot of things in my time but never with so much venom, never with so much hate. I don't like feeling like this. I want to explode sometimes. But I don't. Most of the time I just switch off my moral compass and set my heading back toward home. There is no escape. I am one of you.

I didn't know how to really begin this dialogue so I've settled for incoherence. What are we as a Nation? Has it already been decided or do we get a chance to make revisions. Will America die? And if so, will it do it soon.

If America were to have a funeral, do you think it would be well attended? I know the temptation is to say, who cares. I know that I'm not terribly preoccupied with who shows up to my funeral, or how well I'm regarded after I pass from existence, but it's an interesting test question.

Who would be at the after party. That's the real question. I think there is life after America. I can't imagine what it would be like. I can't imagine what life would be like if there were a country that resembled America's mythology either though.

America is a fiction. Yes, the area represented on the map as America does have corporal existence. But how can we conceptualize a Nation when it consists of so many varied and moving parts. America is not a homogeneous thing. It is a concept. Something that has to be constructed in ones imagination to exist in even an abstract form. Just because other Nations recognize the existence of America does not mean that it is a concrete thing. It begins with a lot of dirt and it ends up a Super Power. That to me sounds more like a creation myth than the description of something one can reach out and touch.

With America the touching is self-touching. We see ourselves in the mirror that is America. Strength. Courage. Freedom. Luxury. Importance. Power. Sex. We project these images on a body that does not cooperate. Our identity hinges entirely on a Dream. Sure, we make things of ourselves. We compete. We love, we fuck, we shit and we kill, but we would do those things even if we were the basest of animals. What makes us great is that we are American Mammals. We have ideas. We have a plan.

Unfortunately this plan is to live forever. Which brings me back to that funeral. America will die. I'm sorry. What you should be asking yourself isn't, why, how, or what did we do wrong, but whether or not you will die with America. Will you commit suttee and throw yourself in the open pit, or will you step over the grave.

I know what I'll do. I've already begun preparing myself for the loss. No, I'm not stocking up on ammo. I plan on celebrating America's life, and death. You can join me at the After Party.