Remember to Howl

We’ve seen without knowing the best minds of our generation destroyed ,not by madness, no by our own urges and drives and by the foolish consequences of those who came before us,

the Ritalin powered academic sufferer, hiding his flagellations and internal self mutilations inside the confines of his cloistered chamber and mind,

slaving over text after text, page upon page, scouring notes,

like a lamb before the altar of God, spilling that precious lifeblood that is coffee and sweat. Drained of all ambition as his wearied body pulls him toward the timeless swan song of sleep. His mind entombed, not in Bellevue or Bedlam, but within itself as the pharmaceutical companies rejoice and grind their mechanised gnashers against the flocks of the insecure and the hopeful. Doomed.

Hopeful that their ailing abnormality is beyond their mortal grasp, but can be fixed by talking to their doctor today and being told all shall be well before popping their precious pills promptly and with the powerful presumption of the pharmacological proclivity to productivity and efficacy. Creating a new generation of corporate addicts

Testaments to the product of the American Pipe dream with Ativan and Zoloft pumping through their bloodstream.

A generation destroyed by the power of boredom and the death of curiosity.

Of mass produced, mass marketed, mass entertainment ignoring the funeral mass of art and love as the communion wine is replaced with the corporate Kool Aid and the common liturgy swapped with xenophobic propaganda pumped out twenty four hours a day by the news cycle with more to lose from the truth and truest news than to gain,

controlling like the floodgates that started at Watergate and our generation is to bring the walls crashing down.

We stand before the dawn of a new age with information weeping from the eyes of bureaucrats and oligarchs.

The education of many shall fail them, but we have a chance to seek a remedy beyond what the eye can see. Either we decide to act in the defence of all or suffer the crumbling of the many at the hands of the few as millions live between life and death, plenty and poverty.

Scorned by police, misled by politicians, scammed by businesses, and harmed by each other as the rat race runs off course as blood fills the street as wine did in the streets of Paris and Rome with the poor lapping it up like dogs and dogs they soon turned biting their neglectful masters. People filled with anger and hatred, the grapes of wrath have come into a fine vintage and risks souring over and there shall be bloodshed, but the bonds that hold us in captivity shall unite us in comradery and after the chains fall there will be those to seek advantage under the guise of improvement, but a jeweled chain is but a chain for fools. There is no bread and no grand circus, only maggots scavenging on the fresh dead. The gladiators and lions of the past have been replaced. Evolving into the media and it’s multicoloured fabric of rape, misogyny, racism, pessimism, narcissism, and existentialism. A world that focuses on the individual at the cost of the generation, leaving behind an ancient veneration of human being and that of all creation. Those that reach for stars are hit by cars and the emerald light of lovers lost becomes a plight of all others and what cost? Roaming as desperate souls irreversibly lost.

A Bit of Me

The one thing essential to who I am is my nearly constant struggle with the looming monstrosity of boredom. ​As an only child, I grew up learning to amuse myself through whatever means of imagination necessary. I could float from building castles and fending off hordes of evil wizards and knights to being a commando trudging from shrubbery to tree to sand pit. I never feel like that led to any spoiling of my character, quite the contrary. What that accomplished was a really useful trait that took a while to get used to. It let me amuse myself through the simplest of means, however it made an enemy of boredom. Whenever I got the slightest bit bored, I’d change gears. In my youth that led me to read books ranging from butterflies to ancient civilizations to engineering. As I grew, this became more of an issue. I have always been very aware of what I can and cannot do. Things that I have no aptitude are anything math related, foreign languages, and physical activity. So when my schoolwork, I inevitably turned to something that interested me and that inevitably led me into the less than usual pastimes of  a teenage boy. One evening could entirely be devoted studying the history of the political structure of the Venetian trade republic in the Twelfth Century, while another could be writing a blog post about the difference between Nazism and Fascism in detail and the large amount of research into how morally reprehensible both methods of governing are. I’ve become a voracious reader in the course of avoiding boredom. In the 8th grade I choose the Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas for a free choice book report that we had two weeks to complete. It remains my favorite novel to this day. In short, my high school career has been rather lacking. Boredom drove me away from succeeding in simple tasks. My SAT and AP scores overshadow my rather mediocre grades. Although school work might not have been my main goal in the past, over the last few years I’ve tried to refocus my brain and work a little harder. Through everything I do, I try to prove to myself and the world that I am a learner. I will willingly attempt to learn anything from theoretical physics to world literature to history to political science to geography. Regardless of where I end up in terms of college and universities, I will be learning.