The Blame Game

The other day an old buddy of mine sent one of those general emails to a bunch of us. It’s one of the ones I usually delete, but for some reason I checked it out anyway. It was a series of videos from an interview with a guy named Yuri in the 80’s. He claimed to be ex-KGB, working for the Soviets on destroying America without using weapons.

Basically, he claimed to have been part of a massive, coordinated “mind-bomb” that destroyed America from within. He claimed to have basically corrupted the media, destroy American schools, and set along a path of moral corruption of our society.

They were interesting videos – but I don’t believe them for a moment. I mean – who is that guy? Yuri? Ex-KGB? Talk about delusions of grandeur…

Is there corruption in the government? Yes.

Is there corruption of the media? Yes.

Does the government control much of what we see in the media? Yes. (And if you think otherwise, just look at their policy toward media and military caskets – or look closely at the Pat Tillman case).

Do major corporations have way too much power in America? Yes.

Are the school systems a corrupt system designed to indoctrinate a population? More or less – yes.

Yet it’s not Yuri’s fault, Osama Bin Laden’s fault, or anyone else’s fault. It’s ours. And when I say “ours” I mean me. And you. And your friends, and everyone you know.

See – in this country, we have lots of problems. Deep, horrible, secret problems that we like to blame on everyone else.

Back in the day the President seemed to blame everything on gay marriage. “Gay marriage is causing the corruption of society!,” many leaders seemed to say.

Then gay bashing got old, and we moved on to something else.

Right now the great evil of the nation is illegal immigration. But let’s not forget that when they say “illegal immigration” they are really talking about any immigrants that don’t look like white folk.

The other day on the radio, as an ode to Father’s Day tomorrow, all the problems of society were blamed on fatherless families.

When there are no “hot topics” involved, it’s a lot of fun to blame liberals, right-wingers, secular progressives, pro-life, pro-choice, religion, Janet Jackson’s breasts, or any of a dozen other things I can list right here.

So what’s my point? My point is that we (and that I mean me too), should stop blaming others in general terms. We’re not screwed up as a nation because of Yuri and his beer buddies. We’re screwed up as a nation because of apathy – because we’re always blaming others. “If only the democrats had control of the House and Senate! Then things will be different!”

Remember that? I cheered that morning, when the Democrats won, pumping my fist in the air, cheering for “my side” like it was a football game.

What has it done? What the hell have the Democrats done since?



This squirrel is not the root of America's problems...

It makes me realize, just like Howard Zinn believes, politicians in power don’t change things.

We do.

Remember the civil rights movements? What was the government and the so-called “leaders” of this country doing to improve the rights of the minority population of America? NOTHING. They, in fact, opposed doing anything at all – until millions of people were marching and rioting in the streets.

Finally they said, “Shit – some guy just set himself on fire on our front lawn – this sucks!”

So don’t get stuck in the blame game. Don’t tell people we’re a screwed up nation because that guy down the street with the “pro-life” sign in his yard is corrupting America. Don’t blame him, and don’t even blame George Bush.

Look in the mirror. Evaluate your belief system. Talk to people about a positive vision of the future.

And sooner or later, when more and more people see that there IS hope in this world, and that the politicians and corporations are actually very, very afraid of us, then maybe one day we can rattle some cages and make some real changes in this world.

Out of Retirement

You know it's serious "old-school" time when I put on this hat. It's old and worn out. It's not very attractive with the crusties. But it's still my favorite hat of all time, and it was only appropriate to bring it out of retirement for the Hatebreed, God Forbid, Terror, and Evergreen Terrace show last night. Match that with my old red jersey, and I was having a serious feeling of nostalgia.

As I sit here, the ringing in my ears is JUST starting to go away. I have some aches and bruises too, but it was all worth it. The concert might have been the best I've ever witnessed.

You know it's going to be special when Terror is the opening act. These guys could probably headline, and here they are opening. They came on stage to a still-arriving and "cold" crowd and quickly whipped the room into a frenzy. Seriously - within a few minutes the pit formed, heads were whipping back and forth, and it seemed like the last song of the night when everyone goes "all-out."

It was almost like Terror was setting the bar for the other bands - and I didn't think Evergreen had a chance. I was wrong. The lead singer, a skinny blond-haired guy, came on stage and destroyed the place. The band itself was very cool live, and just kept the intensity up the entire set. It was awesome.

God Forbid was next, and by then, the crowd was ravenous. When they walked on stage, the roar of the crowd was terrifying, and God Forbid absolutely blew that place up.

I thought I had given up the pit. I really, honestly thought I would never get back in it, but when my buddy Eric said "I'm going in" sometime in the middle of God Forbid's set, I didn't even hesitate.

Over the years the pit has seemed to change. It went from a brutal, brotherly game of football without rules, helmets, or time outs to wiry little guys running through the pit throwing their fists all over the place. I hated how it had changed, and match that with my much older and slow-to-heal body, and I thought I had retired.

Last night, though, was the pit of old. The pit I love.

If you don't understand the pit, you never will. Don't even try - because it really is just a black or white issue. You either love it or you hate it.

I love it.

The mosh pit is something that on the outside is completely ridiculous, dangerous, completely stupid, and probably should be illegal. Inside the pit, however, things are different. You're part of a hardcore group doing something so brutal most people wouldn't even consider it.

There is nothing else that matches true hardcore heavy metal than the feeling of the pit - getting in there, bashing each other, screaming in the swirling, uncontrollable chaos. We get in there and put the hurt on each other -trying to out-slam the other guys, trying to stay standing, trying to breathe... and loving every second of it. When one of us falls, there is quickly a mass of people around to help you back up, giving you a pat on the back and a "go-get-em" look as they push you back out into the madness whether you want to or not.

Last night's pit was awe-inspiring, and God Forbid pushed us to what I thought was our max.

That was until Hatebreed came out.

Hatebreed put on a performance I will not forget. It was one of the most intense, heavy, and mind-blowing shows I've ever even imagined. The pit never stopped, and the intensity just kept building. They played new stuff and old, and the entire room was completely out-of-control.

Half-way during "DESTROY EVERYTHING," the pit was pure uncontrolled craziness, and I got completely destroyed (getting old sucks). My hat flew off, and I remember, on my way down, thinking "well, at least I lost that hat at a Hatebreed show."

Amazingly, however, a hand reached down to help me up, and it was Matt - a student I had my first year teaching. Matt was a "troubled" kid - although he had a big heart, he also had a lot of baggage, coming from a group home and had some serious problems with anger management. He and I didn't always see eye-to-eye, and I was tough on him sometimes, but he came back to see me a few years after that just to tell me how much I meant to him.

So here he was at the Hatebreed concert, his shirt off, showing off some tattoos, helping me off the floor. In his other hand was my hat. He threw it on my head, said "I love you, Z!" and after a quick hug, we launched ourselves right back into the pit.

Unforgettable.

Boxed In

You know - lately I've felt a bit boxed in creatively. I've been so busy with school and weddings, I haven't really had the chance to go out and be creative with some cool landscapes. The weddings are a good source of creative output - but the pressure and breakneck pace of the day isn't relaxing at all.

Now that it's summer, I hope I can take some time between weddings, classes, and other engagements to get out there in the Element, my windows down, chasing the light across the Nebraska landscape.

Maybe then I'll post more.