THERE IS HOPE
Our mythological belief system and our wellspring of hope are the two areas of applied neocortical thought that allow us to survive in this confusingly difficult world rife with illogical effects and painfully blameless results. What we believe about how everything works is our mythology. In America, we believe we are free to make our own decisions, select our leaders by fair voting practices, and have as much chance to succeed as the next person. Such mythology sustains us, even when reality demonstrates over and over again that those things are neither a given nor a likelihood for most of the population. Our hopefulness is even more complex to understand than our mythology, although not as extensive or segmented.
Our hope changes over time, as does our mythological construct, but it is our hope that allows us to overcome the obvious shortcomings of that damaged belief system. In our youth, we hope for approval, success, attention, and recognition. As we age, we hope for reward from the results of those earlier hopes. As we age even more our hope becomes less logical and less rational, even though we accept these changes that occur with unlimited accommodation. When we are older, we come to understand how flawed the mythology of our youth was. We come to realize how that construct of marketed mythology was deliberately built up by people who had, and still maintain, a vested interest in almost everyone believing things that are not true. And that those powerful purveyors of myth also maintain the power to force continued belief, even after everyone knows the myths, they present are not true.
In our youth, we don’t know anything about such deliberation of social control already firmly in place by the time we got here. We remain unaware, or dimly uncaring, that everything on planet earth was already owned and that our ownership was non-existent. We were taught that we must earn ownership of anything. And so, we went to work. For the owners. In our later years, after we come to understand the myth of ownership, and how it is something only very loosely tied to honest effort or industry, we marvel at our naïve innocence in not knowing about that in the first place. But we also come to accept the force of those who do own the planet and how we are nearly powerless to oppose them.
We have our own cultural icons as examples right before us at all times, presented as first news and then history. We have the Kennedy Assassinations, as well as Martin Luther King’s. We have the ‘right in our faces’ lack of any true investigations into those vitally important deaths. We have deliberately illogical mythology inserted into our belief system that we know not to be true—and we are forced to accept it. That part, the ‘forced to accept it,’ the teaching tool the masters of this earth requires that we be bent over with, is applied and then repeatedly used on a regular basis. The Kennedy deaths themselves were not nearly so important for the loss of those men, as for the vital instruction society had to be reminded of. We now have 911 as the new chapter added to this fear-based system of forced mythology.
Our ability to hope is a powerful force, however. So powerful that when we go on vacation to a place we’ve been before, we deliberately drive past a restaurant we know went out of business five years before hoping it might have returned or that we were in error. We drive by a home we once lived in but is, and has been, an empty lot the four times we’ve driven by since its passing. We sit outside a divorced spouse’s house, not hoping to have he or she back, but somehow hoping that the result we live with might somehow not be real after all. We, humans, have a huge capacity to hope, no matter how much logic, physics or lies are thrown up before us. But as we age, we run out of time. We know the mortality tables. We know how much time we have unless it is to be less than what the averages tell us. It will never be much more. We come to find our dedication to the mythological constructs of our youth amusing and faintly sad. We reflect on why the social order must be continuously maintained with a ruthless and cold dominance. We pine for a future when that might not be true. A future we know we will not be a part of. And so, our minds turn to youth.
For their beliefs are the beliefs that shape future actions. Can the beast of world dominance be fought? We will not get to know the answer to that question in our lifetime. The eons-old systems of harsh succession and nepotistic favoritism are deeply rooted in time, genetics and sociobiology. They are not the imagined cravings of some small cabal of evil men and women. They are much more pervasive than that, and much more difficult to understand and work toward combatting.
How many generations of youth will it take to engage this beast of an enemy? We have no clue. We can only do our minimal part in pointing out what reality is every time we get a glimmer of true physical evidence before us. We can only support coming generations by illuminating the falsity generic to most applied systems of social mythology. We can only hope to enshrine and secure an unshakeable sense of hope within the souls of young people coming aboard as we depart. Drive past that old girlfriend’s house, that dance hall long gone, or search for the names of people you loved, yet you know are gone. That kind of seemingly idiotic hope, however, misplaced or based upon facts that cannot possibly be true, is our only tool against the hugely successful mythical beast we face. There is powerful evil at work across the revolving surface of this planet. We must use our best tool to push back, and we must do it by giving our youth the use of hope.
Hope has served us well, even as we admit (in our time) we have not come close to bringing the beast of false mythology out into the public eye, much less triumphing over it.