WHAT'S NEXT?
/Could we have a little fun? You know; laugh a little to keep from crying?
"Buckle up and hang on. Now we know why the streets are empty, and the man’s ravings take on some new dimension: Maybe he’s just regular unhinged, or maybe he’s been driven into lunacy by the last eight or so weeks of madness. Or maybe he’s the only sane one left. Who can tell? By late May 2020, even the most unflappable among us felt one raisin short of a fruitcake."
This is a paragraph from my friend, Alissa Wilkinson's New York Times' review of the film "Eddington". For some reason(s) her words struck me as a complete explanation of my state of mind these days. I've not seen the movie she has reviewed but still her words paint a picture that feels very familiar.
I learned a new word a few years ago. We were visiting Seattle, hitting the must-see spots there. That meant a visit to the original Starbucks in the Pike Place Market area. It was humble and seemed too small and narrow to give birth to the ubiquitous franchise we know today. I asked the barista if the coffee house, Cafe Nervosa--the one that Frasier and Niles frequented actually existed. "No." Then he recommended a likeness, a place called "Zeitgeist Coffee". So, we set out to find the Zeitgeist: the coffee house; and after I discovered the meaning of the word I realized I was in search of that too.
zeitgeist
noun
the general set of ideas, beliefs, feelings, etc. that is typical of a particular period in history
Buckle up and hang on indeed. Who would have thought we would all know the name Epstein? Who would have thought we would grab hard to a moment of fun at the expense of a couple of idiots going reluctantly public in front of the Kiss-Cam at a Coldplay concert. The Corporation for Public Broadcasting defunded. A den of dehumanization in Ochopee, Florida, called "Alligator Alcatraz" by those who love the idea of it. I don't know about you but I feel more and more displaced by this tsunami of zeitgeist upheavel.
I saw a post that Trump was announcing a renaming of the San Andreas Fault to Joe Biden's Fault. Mid-laugh I stopped; the thought hit me this could actually be true. Crazier things have happened... or did they?
Alissa wonders about the protagonist and it makes me wonder about myself: "Maybe he’s just regular unhinged, or maybe he’s been driven into lunacy by the last eight or so weeks of madness. Or maybe he’s the only sane one left."
We can all shudder at remembering an 8-week period in the late May of 2020 timeframe. But now we've gone into warp speed and it's dizzying. What once took eight weeks, now takes eight days. Heck, some days eight hours can be all the time we have to hang on for dear life during a full zeitgeist whiplash.
Tariffs on/tariffs off. Epstein files open/Epstein files empty. Putin is amazing/Putin is a liar. Try keeping up with the names of things. Gulf of Mexico/Gulf of America. Now Republican lawmakers, in a giant kiss on the giant backside are working to rename the opera house at the "John F Kennedy Center For Performing Arts" after the first lady. Representative Mike Simpson, a Republican from Idaho introduced the amendment. Mr. Simpson said in a statement after the vote that naming the theater after Mrs. Trump “is an excellent way to recognize her appreciation for the arts.”
HEY! I appreciate the arts too!
As if he doesn't have better things to do, POTUS is threatening to block the Washington Commanders' new stadium deal unless they revert to their former name, the Redskins. Just a thought: Maybe they could compromise and tip their helmets to his highness and go with the Washington Orangeskins.
Too far? Too soon?
Could we liken it all to being on a roller coaster, complete with all the turns and dips and hairpins and many forks in the track, not knowing which one the lead coaster car will take until the last second? Maybe the train will grind to a halt, sparks flying, and back up to take the fork less traveled, hurling us all into a dark cave. We emerge to find people who know nothing about roller coaster track building quickly throughing track pieces together leading into some unknown. We do know this: its feeling more and more like this train will never return to the station.
My favorite line of Alissa's paragraph is the last one, the one that implies at least, we're all in it together: "...even the most unflappable among us felt one raisin short of a fruitcake."