Tear down, tear down the Old way, for when it is destroyed, the New way will be brought in, and when the New way is set in place. . . when the New Order is instituted, then all things will be made right and wise people such as yourself will be in charge of things, and your troubles will be over.
But that surely is gobblydeegoop. I mean, isn't it?
I myself have, in my life, encountered the power of this deception. I have heard that Siren call of anarchy. It is a cry familiar to me. It arises not so much in me as in the world out there somewhere, with some instigator's persistent call to rage, rage against the machine. Somewhere in between my ears, it beats a drum of discontent that would compel me, if I were to follow that terrible summons, to do terrible, destructive things.
Although I have never succumbed to it, I know its voice. It is the insidious voice of rebellion that would compel men into the abyss of anarchy, and women into the chasms of despair.
Harken not to it, my brother. Heed it not, my soul. For it leadeth not where thou wouldst want to go.
I'm not making this up; this is a very real thing in the world today. But it is nothing new.
In the final chapter of his 1971 journalistic book, Kent State, James A Michener describes the strange experience of a troubled young woman. She's a runaway teenager; she had forsaken the comfort of middle-class life to wander the streets and cities of America in search of something, possibly a magical place called "California." But during her journey to the elusive place, the girl found herself one brisk Friday night in Ohio, kicking around in Kent, looking for some excitement, or some meaning in life, or just something to do, when, about midnight, she came across some "trouble on the street." As Michener describes the scene in which rioters were protesting Nixon's bombing of Cambodia:
" 'Cambodia,' she says, 'Cambodia did it. They built a fire out there (on a downtown street, ed.) and were circling around, chanting'. . . (She) joined them, dancing about the trash fire in the street. It was what was happening and she wanted in."
And so the young women was caught up in that moment, and caught up in the excitement and the gravitas of the protest, having answered the call to meaningful action, which can, in the heat of human manipulations, sometimes slide into the calling of anarchy, and so one thing did lead to another and then a couple of days later, the young woman found herself suddenly fallen upon a parking lot, with shots ringing in the air around her and when she looked up there was a young man lying next to here with his head down but blood flowing out of it because of the fatal gunshot. But then she dragged herself up. In the misery and tragedy of that moment, she cried out. . .
Also in that moment, the photographer who happened to be nearby quickly snapped a picture. A little while later, through a series of electronic wonders beginning with the photographer's pic as published in his paper's next issue, the mournful, confused face of the wandering teenaged girl was flashed around the world for all the world to see.
The look on the young woman's face documents the utter dismay of a generation, my generation. Millions of people around the world have seen, and wondered about, that picture. James Michener calls her the woman with the "Delacroix face."
Her face does resemble the face of Lady Liberty, as rendered in "Liberty leading the People," a famous painting by Eugene Delacroix that depicts an idealized image of the French Revolution.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eug%C3%A8ne_Delacroix
I guess there is a fine line somewhere between Liberty and anarchy. Only those who have suffered in the fog of war or in the great Struggle for justice can know the difference.
The poet W.B. Yeats mentions this dangerous tendency of our world in his poem, The Second Coming:
"Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned"
The "ceremony of innocence," is, in our present American culture and this historic time, the ritual of going to college or university. In our case study above, Kent State, the "ceremony" was not drowned, but rather, mortally wounded. This happened when duty-bound Guardsmen, who were generally the same young age as the students, were pressured, in the midst of frantic, anarchic circumstances to fire into a wildly unpredictable, rock-hurling crowd. Historic research reveals that "somebody" had fired a first shot, the fatal result of which that anarchy was suddenly catapulted into tragedy.
Tragedy. Life is tragic. This is one outcome of anarchy.
It makes me wonder, and I find myself thinking of that old Moody Blues tune, Melancholy Man. . .
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uO3IG-oRpis
In our present day and time, anarchy could--and already has--generated tragedy. . .in Ferguson, Baltimore, Charleston, Paris, San Bernadino, Riyadh and its aftermath, and in many other places. I am reminded of the prophet whose words still ring true after after twenty centuries:
"Do you not see all these things? Truly I say to you, not one stone here will be left upon another which will not be torn down."
His words were spoken about a religious building, but it seems that the anarchic spirit of our age is bent on terrorizing and destroying many diverse persons, many places near and far, and a multitude of buildings and things.
It's the calling of anarchy. Don't get sucked in.
Here's a better response: Do what is right, and pray.
Glass half-Full
No comments:
Post a Comment