We’re all just missionaries without a religion
Revolutionaries with cigarettes hanging
forlorn fingers
picking at the afterglow
Lips parted
as if to induce potential
Half-open yellow windows
Like at sunset
Where the only lights
in the city are streetlamps flickering
and the bygone passersby
are hangover silhouettes
remembered
47 hours later
Fleeting aspirations and morning lights
Leaning out my screenless window
All the angles are just slightly off
From degrees
The blue, a color
I know is fluttering
inside my retinas
reflecting midnight monsters
under my bed
I am my own worst fear nowadays

i saw a flower weed today in the cracks of cement, growing amidst the shine of wealthy ignorance hidden in shiny automobiles. To think no one ever notices such things anymore—just walks on by with fluttering eyelids and half-smiles, like waiting for the ultimate oblivion to save them from all this self-induced confusion. Trying so hard to forget and not to think about anything that causes sweat to pour down the cracks of loneliness. why are we so like the way we are? … scared, cornered, the possibility we might have led so empty a life ever more hardens the walls to the cage, an excuse that we cannot start over, be open, vulnerable, NOT AFRAID, even for just a day … when we could look across the room and stare into each other’s eyes and speak the patterns to our thoughts freely as if tomorrow was a great ending or beginning … and etiquette: the rules to protect insecurity, to hide behind common phrases: “How was your weekend? Did you get that homework assignment done?” As if this was the essence of life, as if these were safe havens to poke at trying to find a connection while still holding up the glittered mask …i say fuck all this chitter-bug nonsense, let us run together until we fall and laugh and cry and are free as we truly are. but it is dream, only a precious few have the self-esteem to show glitteing eyes instead of glittered teeth … imperfection is not responsible for this … self-denial is …

… thinking many things …

Smelly, stinky, and eating some Velveeta Shells and Cheese! Yeah, things get gittier every day.

Historical perspective can be seen as two sides of an ever-spinning coin. The accustomed response to such dynamic movement, such familiar phenomenon, is to immediately flatten our foot upon its plain, make it flat, understandable, easily perceptible—simple for the everyday viewer. The general public would like to know which side is which, form quick, solid opinions on the imagery and short phrases that differentiate each face. Then they let it slip from their satisfied fingers, now confident in their brief attempt at interpreting this sidewalk treasure. They might even feel slightly proud in their powers of noticing the piece, create an entertaining, catchy phrase for others to appreciate their menial efforts, form the first of many tired adages in our culture, such as: “See a penny, pick it up, all day long you’ll have good luck.” But in this process of reiterating common knowledge and sights, could we possibly be missing something? Without further personal and original observations, could the overall experience—something seen so many times—be stripped of its meaning?
Given, the visual landscape of today’s society encourages individuals to center on material worth over conceptual accomplishments. Another bothersome societal practice (and this often translates into mass philosophy) is the dependence on complex technological convenience without consideration to its roots, what’s behind the static screen, why it is there in the first place, how did it come to be. Nowadays, American culture requires sweeping intricacies of technology for survival and the capitalist notion of a successful life. Being confronted with such a dense sea of information and the multifaceted events that effect human lives, comprehension of human existence can become lost. Prioritization becomes a necessity to function—to sift and sort through the multifarious entity that is now society. Things get confused; perceptions are swayed; people are overworked. These are the normal episodes of life. People have complex lives already. With the cautions and demands of studying history, why should people do the extra work and dwell on the past when the future is in itself so arduous? Why must we deal with the discouraging facts of history as well? These are the questions that arise in the short attention spans of the American populace whenever they are presented with an unanswerable question or question with many answers.
Added to this is the standard occurrence of disillusionment in every sensitive, educated mind from a variety of reasons: the purposeful destruction of surviving history, the incessant distortion of truth and perception, the inconsistency of historical accuracy, the obvious absence of any living first hand observers, just to name a few. Plus, history is intangible; it is very often evasive to human perception. Although there are countless journals, records, relics, and other such objects of historical importance, history still remains an echo of the past, a familiar whisper on the wind—daunting and fleeting. Can history ever be truly known to humans? Theories abound on the formation and analysis of history. There are always questions of interpretation, of the genuine significance of various historical documents, accounts, or records. So, why then must such an emphasis be placed on history and the never-ending pursuit to understand the past?
According to Daniel Boorstin in “The Historian: a Wrestler with the Angel,” history is impossible to know by humanity’s own modern perspectives; we simply know hindsight; we know what is going to happen; we’ve worked through their problems and so can never know their ignorance or their unfeasible hopes. Even the very evidence that is held so dearly to historians is “partial . . . casual and accidental,” (Boorstin 25). Boorstin explains various rules to consider when analyzing history, and these consist of the many biases and possibilities for distortion—that “they, too, remind us of the whimsical dimensions of our knowledge and the limits of our powers of discovery,” (Boorstin 32) If accuracy and authenticity will always be in question, why should humans continue to strive for it? Boorstin even asks, “How reliable are the remains of the past as clues to what was really there?” (32). It seems humans are asking questions that do not have easy answers. There is no straight-forward approach or linear line to the “truth.” But, does there need to be?
To further discourage the historian, or even the inquiring human, from finding their past is the presence of purposeful or ignorant destruction of the surviving history. Barry Lopez in his discovery passages of “The Stone Horse,” comes to reflect how such precious historical treasures are thrown aside and vandalized because of the disrespect of humans for their own past. It is a concept that is “demoralizing to behold,” (Lopez 132). It is as if these vandals want there to be nothing but the present, no evidence of past action and consequence. It seems as if one could use this sort of disorientation of factuality as a means for exploitation. This possibility is frightening at best, and the unawareness of those who do it by mistake is simply unforgivable. Lopez considers the possible consequences of such actions: “Their self-centered scorn, their disrespect for ideas and images beyond their ken, create the awful atmosphere of loose ends in which totalitarianism thrives, in which the past is merely wrong or curious,” (139). An image of Nazi book burning comes to mind and the meaning of these actions should give a deep feeling of fear and disgust.
If that isn’t enough to cause an emotive response for the subject, past historians even leave a whole half of the human race out of consideration. It is widely known that until about 100 years ago, women had a minor role in the recording of history (not the making of it, of course). Women have a history of speculation, of uncertainty. Yet, it is understood that they “have always been a force in history and have been agents, not subjects, in the process of civilization,” (Lerner 122). Women’s role in history has long been obscured and taken for granted by a male-centered mentality. An even larger obstacle arises as women have finally been given equality: children are “discouraged from giving sustained and thoughtful attention to the past,” (Lerner 124). Gerda Lerner in her treatise “The Necessity of History,” explains: “The rapid succession of superficial problems instantly solved, which is the main stay of both television and the advertising that sustains it, induces the viewer to assume that there are simple and readily available solutions to every problem,” (125). In essence, there is a tendency of people today to brush off the in depth meaning of such struggles, turn on the TV, and have it answered for them. True experience is replaced with a shallow interpretation and interest. It appears as if everything is already solved for the present culture. Women now have recognition, and that’s that.
Plus, history is a topic American children have known and groaned over for most of their educational careers. In this age of widespread information overkill, it’s no epiphany that children, and the adults they grow into, would come to view this subject as another overdone channel they can flip through. Today’s society has to face up to (and hopefully come to terms with) the result of the numerous complications mass communication, a booming population, and unlimited scientific possibility entail. If the media and the institutions that govern the spread of information want to keep the integrity of their material and their public, they cannot continue to gloss over the facts. They cannot do a half-assed job and expect to be forgiven because of the complexity of their task. Likewise, the general public cannot afford to accept this inferior regurgitation of human events. The vital point that most fail to comprehend, the epitome of what this all means, is that what we are doing right now, our everyday practices, our everyday forgetfulness, is defining human existence for ourselves and our children. “Now, as never before, we need to have a sense of meaning in our lives . . . [and] it is history, the known and ordered past, that enables us to delineate goals and visions for a communal future,” (Lerner 129).
So, we have the two sides to the dynamic spinning coin of history: the present complication and the past ambiguity. Humanity has become disconnected by the tendency to focus on the distinction of the sides. They ignore the whole because of the difficulty to unite them. In doing this, people are in denial of a vital part to completely understand human nature and therefore themselves. This method of living is shallow and two dimensional—without bulk, mass, or a defining body. People become separated from their past roots, have no organic form anymore. The overall effect is one of separation and anxiety—what I like to call “synthetic humanity.” And human history may not hold an answer to the incessant questioning of humanity; we may never know why and what this all means; life will always be a mystery and a reason for confusion in our everyday lives, but for god’s sake, that does not equate to dismissal, self-denial, and generally giving up. That does not give anyone the right to waste life because they never got what they thought they deserved. There is no justification for sitting at a TV and letting the hierarchal institutions of society take control of everyday practices, hopes, and dreams. This sort of behavior, this sort of extreme depression (even with a smile on your face), does equate to a Stalin- and Hitler-esque terrain. There needs to be an emphasis on the succession of the ages of human development, instead of such a shallow acceptance of the “surface.” Devoid of historical perspective, humanity’s actions have no context, no basis for comparison. It becomes easy to take things for granted. Even the most basic materials are just as vital as the most complex. Without a stable foundation, the entire structure loses balance, integrity, and in depth meaning. Subsequently, history gives the diversity of humans identity, gives insight to distinguish the relationship between cause and effect events. History is vital to truth and human nature. Without this, humanity is in danger of becoming disassociated from our past and ourselves; reality becomes pliable and easily distorted. This disconnection and disregard for the past contributes to ambiguity, an insubstantial reality or a reality solely based on human perception. If the past is destroyed or forgotten, we are lost in a haze of instability. There is no foundation, no dimensional quality to thought patterns, no point of comparison for advancement or learning from past mistakes. Even if history may be vague itself sometimes, is it not better to at least have questioned it and know there are a multitude of possibilities awaiting discovery? Must there always be a simple answer or linear path to consolation? It seems that such examples as I gave above, of the consequences of forgetfulness, are the results of a people needing certainty and someone to tell them all the answers. This practice is an obvious hypocrisy, for the truth they must know so strongly, must have comfort for so completely is exploitation, denial, and a lie in the end. What humanity should be asking is how can we risk not knowing history?

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Lerner, Gerda. “The Necessity of History.” Vision and Revision: A Reader for Writers. 2nd ed. Ed. Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design. Massachusetts: Copley Custom Publishing Group, 2001. 115-129

Boorstin, Daniel. “The Historian: a Wrestler with the Angel.” Vision and Revision: A Reader for Writers. 2nd ed. Ed. Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design. Massachusetts: Copley Custom Publishing Group, 2001. 25-33

Lopez, Barry. “The Stone Horses.” Vision and Revision: A Reader for Writers. 2nd ed. Ed. Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design. Massachusetts: Copley Custom Publishing Group, 2001. 130-140