"In Memory of When I Used to Care"

Is not a victory

Today, I saw a teen girl wearing a t-shirt that said, "In Memory of When I Used to Care." It struck me that she probably thought it was a profound statement. And who can blame her? I believe that her expression is representative of a broader trend. We live in a time when the spirit of apathy and indifference is increasingly seducing people into nihilism. After all, did not Freddy Mercury of the iconic rock band Queen sing:

Nothing really matters
Anyone can see
Nothing really matters
Nothing really matters to me

Any way the wind blows

History will repeat itself like a hurricane, and instead of preparing for the spiritual storm, we are dropping our guard because “nothing matters.” Bible prophets of old saw this, too. The already-but-not-yet theme pops up in their foresight. Here’s a quote from “Those Who Remain” by G. Michael Hopf

“Hard times create strong men. Strong men create good times. Good times create weak men. Weak men create hard times.”

It’s a challenge for me to find inner peace when I look at the state of the world highlighted by that young girl’s t-shirt. I feel compelled to write, warn, and inspire others, but when I see the multitude of needs and a million darts homing in on the souls of young and old, Any action feels as pointless as playing music on the deck of the sinking Titanic. I struggle to fully comprehend the threat's scope, and I worry I'll miss something vital in the frenzy of feelings as I compose this piece.

I want that girl to have a care again. I don’t want her to give up. I want my nation to have a care again. I don’t want my nation to give up. But first, we must wake up. But inspiring others to wake up feels like trying to make water flow uphill when the ghost of this age inspires indifference to truth and even hope.

The issue is tricky to diagnose, too. It seems we live in a mesmerizing mix of Owrell’s 1984 and Huxley’s Brave New World. , and the opening lines of Dicken’s Tale of Two Cities. Then sprinkle in Sodom and Gomorrah.

Contrary to popular belief, Orwell and Huxley didn’t foresee the same dystopian future. Here’s a quote from Neil Postman’s book “Amusing Ourselves to Death”:

…Orwell feared… those who would ban books. What Huxley feared was that there would be no reason to ban a book, for there would be no one who wanted to read one. Orwell feared those who would deprive us of information. Huxley feared those who would give us so much that we would be reduced to passivity and egoism. Orwell feared that the truth would be concealed from us. Huxley feared the truth would be drowned in a sea of irrelevance. Orwell feared we would become a captive culture. Huxley feared we would become a trivial culture. In 1984 …people are controlled by inflicting pain. In Brave New World, they are controlled by inflicting pleasure. …Orwell feared that what we hate will ruin us. Huxley feared that what we love will ruin us.

Postman believed we were headed for a Brave New World existence when he published in 1985. But now it’s clear we live in a mix of parallel worlds.

With that in mind, think of The Tale of Two Cities and Charles Dickens's use of parallelism, and you’ll see Huxley, then Orwell, too:

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way--in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

Then commenced the horrific French Revolution.

Our modern culture and society often feel like something from a DC Comic book - a strange and surreal world. There are so many issues to tackle, and I don't want to give the impression that any of them is more important than the others. For this reason, I try to focus on what I know and choose my battles carefully. It can be overwhelming to be bombarded with so much stressful information, especially for those who see themselves as prophets, watching the gathering storm with awe and fear.

I express my soul’s concern at various times, and often people laugh it off. “Don’t worry about it,” they say.

The frequency of grave issues bombarding us daily is increasing. In the past, I would write about maybe one or two issues a month on one of my platforms. Now, there are so many troubles that it's like playing Whack A Mole when I sit down to put things into these words. Which issue do I address? Who am I anyway? Even if I pluck one of the darts from the air and dissect it, it doesn't mean many others aren’t as supremely worthy of scrutiny and exposure to the light. I aim to give equal attention to all the issues, but it isn't easy. It's like aiming into a swarm and firing at whatever new horror appears next until the barrel melts.

Remember the Alamo.

Everything feels too big to capture or fragmented to gather and merge into a concise paragraph. I feel alone, surrounded by a thousand daggers.

In the past, we used shallow slogans on t-shirts and bumper stickers. We were free. We got so accustomed to it that those catchphrases now fill the space where we used to have room and time for deep and robust thought. Unfortunately, the postmodern mindset lacks the attention span to analyze abstract philosophies that come in slick content and packaging. Now, they live as parasites on our minds and barnacles on our ship. Due to this vulnerable mindset, real enemies bearing egregious ideologies are appearing and becoming more assertive, not in some other nations but within our borders. Our apathy emboldens these enemies and seeks to silence people like me. They want us to stop writing, posting, talking, and thinking. The weeds are choking the flowers. The garden is dying. Our representatives, who were elected to solve problems and protect our nation, seem to be more interested in their welfare. At the same time, I pay my taxes with taxed and taxed money to support the spreading of things that go directly against my beliefs. They are too scared to stand for my beliefs. This situation makes me want to retreat to a cave, like Elijah did in 1 Kings 19.

In today’s world, I don’t have to flee to a cave as Elijah did because I don’t have people making physical threats and perusing me with weapons of war…yet. For now, it’s just canceling, censoring, and de-platforming, all of which have happened to me at some point in the recent past for having “wrong think” that ran counter to the mainstream rut. It is so very tempting to unplug and retreat into the monastery of my mind, a glorified head-in-the-sand posture. In that self-made cathedral, the focus is on me, perhaps one of our time's great sins: self-centeredness, where the false god of my soul is me worshipping myself in seeking safety:

In Memory of When I Used to Care

I don’t know how to describe what I sense is coming. And yet my soul remembers Jeremiah 26:2: “…do not omit a word!”

“Do not omit a word!” That’s a high mark to leap for. I can’t remember who said it. I'm reminded, “You can’t hit a home run every time.” I say, “Right, but you can swing for the bleachers.”

So let us not omit any words! In Memory of When I Used to Care what this Godless world thinks about me!