The Magnetic Pole
Note: I didn't plan for this post to coincide with the US Thansgiving holiday (I only realized the timing after I'd scheduled it). It's a bit gloomy, so please feel free to skip it and focus on family, turkey, or any other good thing you may think of. You know, the stuff that matters. And happy Thanksgiving.
“My voice is no louder, no wiser, and no more consequential than anyone else's. I know this. We're all on loudspeaker now, if we choose to pick up the mic, but I feel less and less inclined to do so. Why contribute to the noise? And really, why bother?
But some days, monologues scroll through me, despite raging against their insistent presence on my stubbornly blind eyes. It's like a curtain falling over my surroundings. The world recedes and I stand there, transfixed, every brain cell committed to the diatribe, unable to focus.
I've struggled since the US election. The choice our neighbours made left me vacant, disappointed, and disillusioned, to the point of not caring about anything, anymore. At least, nothing beyond our inner circle. If this is what The Collective deems acceptable, then screw The Collective.
25% tariffs on all Canadian exports? Despite the free trade agreement? Proclaimed over a failed social platform, without even the basic decency of a phone call? Of course. Yippee ki yay motherfucker. Welcome to Disrespect & Stupid Economics for Dummies. All praise the mighty Oz. (1)
I'm writing this in my personal journal as an attempt to unburden myself, but it's not working at all. For several weeks now I've censored what I post on the blog, refraining from publishing thoughts that might brush some people the wrong way. Not out of fear—out of sheer exhaustion. That, and a concern for everybody's mental health: why add to the pervasive doom?
But then, that's how they win.
I learned a new word recently: turtling. I read about it in a post from Rands In Repose (The Cleanse). It's an apt description, retreating into a shell. Perfect all the way, really. Right up to the shattered pieces left behind when the sledgehammer hits. We can look away, pretend not to hear, do everything in our power to forget, but it won't matter. Not this time.
The moral high ground is gone. Exceptionalism? Bastardized and twisted beyond meaning. No shine, no glimmer, no lustre. The magnetic pole has shifted. The compass lies broken.
My voice is no louder, no wiser, and no more consequential than anyone else's.
But silence is only more emptiness.”
Personal journal - November 25, 2024.
