Instead of actually “memorializing” much of anything these days, Memorial Day weekend has become the ultimate in 21st-century escapes from reality. And I’m just as guilty of that as much as the next guy; I don’t have any solemn ceremonies on my schedule, or plans to visit an obelisk chiseled out of stone to remember the dead long gone.
No, I’m looking to be as comfortable as possible, doing as little as possible concerning anything that has to do with my day job. (Which, as it currently stands, is diagnosing the downfall of Western civilization and American exceptionalism.) And I thank those who sacrificed so I have the ability to both stand up for what they died for, but also take a needed break from doing so when the time comes.
But many people’s escape from reality this weekend is different, in that it is no different from what they were already doing. Fire up the Pink Floyd, because our new national anthem should be “Comfortably Numb.” Too many Americans aren’t using this weekend to escape anything, because they’re already living a life of escapism.
Perhaps never before in history has a nation been so seduced by comfort, that so many of its citizens have voluntarily enslaved themselves to the task of authoring their own demise.
Light up the barbecue, Bob! Because tranny bathrooms, courts killing off the Constitution, and giving the biggest arms deal in history to the country most of the 9/11 hijackers came from make me feel like celebrating.
These are our new memorials.
Instead of stone, they are made of insanity. We have chosen them with our complacency, rather than having them foisted upon us by some power-mad tyrant. To paraphrase arguably the best line from the 1990s cult classic “Office Space”: “It’s not that we’re lazy, it’s that we just don’t care.”
Ours is an era when we wouldn’t toss the tea into the sea because “No taxation without representation” … but complain because it wasn’t an organic herbal brew. We have come full-circle. Mad King George would be proud.
Ironically, in the short term we are insulated from the reality of what’s happening to us long-term because of how successful – albeit imperfect – our original experiment in self-government has been.
Yet you can only be a culture drafting off the previous generations’ pace car for so long before it’s time for Uncle Bingo to pay the check. Make no mistake: That bill will, one day, come due for us. (Just as it has for all other world powers who became drunk on their own self-righteousness and self-indulgence.)
Memorial Day — and all the graves of those who gave everything they could for us — should prick our conscience. Except we are self-actualized tyrants connected to a perpetual and subsidized morphine drip. We are perishing for a lack of knowledge about what made us what we were. But we feel real groovy about it.
Even too much of the so-called movement claiming to strive to conserve that lost legacy has driven itself into a ditch. Just this week, a court again made up another affront to basic decency and our way of life.
Of course, most of you reading this don’t realize that. But you do know about … fake boycotts, “but Hillary,” and the shocking revelation the mainstream media is liberally biased. (Finally, somebody told us!)
Because it’s all about them clicks, yo. Never mind that if we actually offered our people solid food they might feast on it, and maybe the reason they live on Vendo-Land empty calories is we rarely grill them a porterhouse.
The bad news – or good, depending on how you look at it – is the self-delusion can’t last forever.
At some point, a three-day holiday weekend created to remember those who fought and died for our futures will lose its meaning. It will return to its genesis, where standing a post in defense of freedom is far more than a romantic notion – it is the very difference between light and darkness on a cosmic scale. A choice will have to be made.
We will have finally been struck in a place that we can no longer abide or excuse. New Minutemen will be needed to fight back such a decadent, self-imposed wrath. All will be compelled to “choose we this day whom we will serve.”
Of this collision course with HIStory, there is no doubt. The only mystery is what else we’re willing to put up with before we arrive at our eventual destination. We could again be a people that “highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain.” But first we’d have to care.