The Arrogant Advice of an American Teenager

          I am young. I am twenty years old; yet I know nothing of life but despair, death, fear, and fatuous superficiality cast over an abyss of sorrow…” (Eric Maria Remarque). Those words began an admission that would forever change how its readers felt about war. Here is my version. My war is not The War to End All Wars; it is a war of identity, both microcosmically and macrocosmically. I am but a soldier in the American war—the ideological war between the wealthy left and the wealthy right: an elitist sect to which most of us will never belong. I am but one of their three hundred million pawns, and like it or not, so are you.

          If I were to turn on Fox I would listen to some reasonably intelligent so-and-so or the other tell me about how the left will ruin America. If I were to turn on MSNBC, I would hear some other intelligent sentient being committing the exact same logic fallacies to conclude with a polar opposite stance. Who is right? Who is wrong? What is the truth of that particular nano-subject?

At this point, who the hell cares?

          We are one nation. We are one populace. We all have the rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. How we strive for these things and our individual ideals of them differs. This will never change. Don’t waste your time, money, or life trying to make it change. Don’t insult your own intelligence by deluding yourself into believing that any such romantic notion is possible.

          The ultimate reality of our times is fear. It is fear of both change and of staying the same. It is fear of how big-government is intrusive, and yet that small government may not be able to afford its citizens the same protections. I could easily go on, but all of the examples I would point out may be categorized as fear of the theoretical. Why fear a theory? It is called that because it is unproven postulation. It may be based in a fully valid argument or set of arguments, and it or those may even be sound; but they still are not proven.

          I could use valid and sound rhetoric to convince you beyond a reasonable doubt that the Sun will explode tomorrow and we will all die. It is highly unlikely and yet still probable that such a random extreme act will occur. Being a ball of energy the Sun could combust at any time, but do we live in constant vigilance and fear of this—of course not, to do so is absurd. Fear after all is utterly irrational. Therefore, living in fear is also utterly irrational. What does that get you? What grandiose and fulfilling life will you lead by doing so? What will be your reputation and legacy? 

          The greatest inventions, the greatest and most celebrated ideas, were born not of fear, but of unbridled imagination and daring. How else is defying gravity conceivable? How else are heart and other organ transplantations conceivable? We accept these as common knowledge—albeit risky—now; yet, once upon a matter of decades back, such a thought would never have occurred. After all, these were ideas that bucked hundreds of years of scientific politic and practice.

          You could say this is a fallacious set of examples—crude extremes of the stratum of possibilities that blow the curve per se. Yet there you are wrong. At the risk of arrogant and unnecessary projection I do indeed claim so. This assertion is both microcosmically and macrocosmically valid.

I had intended to hammer out an admission of my own and place it here using Remarque’s as a structural parallel. However, I decided in context merely to include his here.  Once something has been said so well why change it? The sentiments still apply:

“I am young, I am twenty years old; yet I know nothing of life but despair, death, fear, and fatuous superficiality cast over an abyss of sorrow.  I see how people are set against one another, and in silence, unknowingly, foolishly, obediently, innocently slay one another. I see that the keenest brains of the world invent weapons and words to make it yet more refined and enduring. And all men of my age, here and over there, throughout the whole world see these things; all my generation is experiencing these things with me… Our knowledge of life is limited to death. What will happen afterwards? And what shall come of us?” –Erich Maria Remarque’s All Quiet on the Western Front.

Yet here as promised is my quick, futile attempt, my own admission. Forgive my arrogance:

          I am young, I am eighteen years old; yet I know nothing of life but anger, bitterness, and fear cast over a multitude of the suffering. I see how friends and families are set against each other, and every one else around them; the puppets of those in power who wish to keep it. I see the politicians and the think-tanks, the journalists and the pundits, dictating division, distrust, fear, hate, malice, and envy using the best technology and broadcasting methods unlimited capital can buy. Every citizen of this country, and every citizen of this world is cognizant of these things, they too are under the incessant influence of these things. Our knowledge of life is limited to fear. What unforeseen evil may force any change? How long can we live in such a manner?

          Here is my plea. America, my brothers and sisters, my neighbors, my countrymen, turn aside from the fear and the hate. Refuse the poisonous influences of hateful, fearful, and spiteful rhetoric. Turn back to ethics, to compassion, to courtesy, and to responsibility. Demand the same from your leaders, your teachers, and your various authorities. Demand the same from our politicians, our lobbyists, and our journalists. Forget morals and the herd-mentality. In the end you account for yourself and your actions only.  You account for what you did and what you allowed to be done—the good and the bad; the greatest achievements and milestones, and the lowest indecencies and inhumanities.

          In the end there is no left or right, there is no communist or fascist; there is only life. Do the best you can with the time you have in accordance with your own statuettes. Have compassion for the poor. Have respect for the old. Nurture the young. Fight for those who can’t defend themselves—those who can’t possibly match the gait of their persecutors.

          Give all that you demand. You want respect—show it. You want what’s right and fair and good—vote for it and act accordingly. You have rights, but you have just as many civic duties. There is no one without the other. Choose the long-run over immediate gratification. Let go of your selfish instincts; insist that I let go of mine. See value in my ideas as I see value in yours—whether similar or markedly different. Engage in arguments and discourse not shouting matches. Listen as much as you talk. We are both humans. We both have worth. Our combined knowledge and experience has more power than anyone’s on their own. 

          There is a better future. It may not be tomorrow. In fact, it will not be tomorrow. Accept that. We must accept that. We must be patient. We will succeed. Adversity is not new. Failure is not new. Hard times are not new. They are but another part in the cycle of life.  Relax; take a deep breath, for there’s a chance we’ll find better days.