Thats the American Dream to Make Your Life Into Something You Can Sell
Really, he says, he should write a godd**m book. That’s the American Dream: to make your life into something you can sell.
The earth, he’d say, is just a big machine. A big processing place. A factory. That’s your big answer. The big truth.
Think of a rock polisher, one of those drums, goes round and round, rolls twenty-four/seven, full of water and rocks and gravel. Grinding it all up. Round and round. Polishing those ugly rocks into gemstones. That’s the earth. Why it goes around. We’re the rocks. And what happens to us – the drama and pain and joy and war and sickness and victory and abuse – why, that’s just the water and sand to erode us. Grind us down. To polish us up, nice and bright.
That’s what Mr. Whittier would tell you.
Smooth as glass, that’s our Mr. Whittier. Buffed by pain. Polished and shining.
That’s why we love conflict, he says. We love to hate. To stop a war, we declare war on it. We must wipe out poverty. We must fight hunger. We campaign and challenge and defeat and destroy.
As human beings, our first commandment is:
Something needs to happen.
…“Any call for world peace,” Mr. Whittier would say, “is a lie. A pretty, pretty lie.” Just another excuse to fight.
No, we love war.
War. Starvation. Plague. They fast-track us to enlightenment.
“It’s the mark of a very, very young soul,” Mr. Whittier used to say, “to try and fix the world. To try and save anyone from their ration of misery.”