The Flighty Press

My thoughts on the elections and matters of a similar nature (not that anyone asked for it!)

(Note: This isn’t perfect, nor is it particularly sophisticated. The post below is simply what you might call ‘cerebral spillage’ that comes about whenever I get het up about political matters. Regardless, I hope you enjoy! If it gives you something to mull over then all the better. Thanks for reading.)

Politics. 

It’s all anyone seems to focus on anymore – or perhaps that’s just me. In an age that’s more-or-less post-religion (depending on the religion, of course!), politics has sort of become an impromptu stand-in for that hole of meaning that has done a rather good job of slam-dunking the populace into a nihilistic malaise. It has (though it shouldn’t have) created a way by which someone may live their life. Something to rally behind. I’ve often said to my mates and anyone who might listen to my discordant ramblings that we now live in an era where – for the most part – the fighting is done. Yes, my heart goes out to those fighting in your Iraqs, your Israels, your Palestines, your Ukraines – it really does. I don’t wish to invalidate their very real struggles at all. But if you zoom out and view things from a pan-global scale, things are – or were, at least – very cushy for the average Joe.  Sure, jobs suck. Bosses suck. Bills suck. The gradual disintegration of communities, sucks. But we have technological marvels at our disposal. For the most part, we have food, water, shelter, and a myriad of hobbies we might indulge in. And if you have love? Something to fight for, really? Well, ain’t that the cherry on top. 

So things ain’t so bad. 

And we get restless.

Of course we do. 

Our inner animal, which society has tamed so explicitly yearns for escape, for adventure. Something to advocate for. Something to fight for. And if you think that this sounds very emo and angsty then that’s because…it is. Countless songs are based on this very concept – that there’s a way by which the great machine of society might be shattered – for an instant – and a brighter path be divined.

But I’m getting sidetracked. 

Politics. 

With the aforementioned in mind, I can’t help but wonder if it’s part of the reason why people become so – I won’t say radical – emphatic in their support for a political party: an overflow of emotion that comes from being part of something that might actually mean something. I sincerely believe that the average voter/supporter/citizen cares more about the tribe as it were than the actual, concrete, policies. And who can blame em? I certainly don’t. You see, where we have marvels, we have isolation. Where we have magic tablets that would make a medieval noble spontaneously combust, we have a serious sort of deep-rooted nihilism. By which I mean a lack of stardust with which life should be gilded. Life should be an adventure. Life should be exciting and fresh and it should be, well, sexy. 

Politics is just another tribe. We are tribal folk, after all. 

So really, can you blame people for wanting to be part of a tribe? 

Too often does my mind return to the Great Dictator speech by Charlie Chaplain, in which he denounces machine men with machine minds.

We are not machines!

We are men! 

And life should be a paradise and life can be a paradise. And yet, we shoot ourselves in the foot again and again until all we have left is a bloody pulp.

It doesn’t have to be this way. 

And my heart bleeds for humanity.

And I know that I’m not alone.

And for goodness sake, be kind to one another! Even if you are from different ‘tribes’.

We’re all humans after all. And we only have each other.