Where is my mind?

There was a time in the United States where people actually created things.  We put down railroads, built dams, constructed massive limestone edifices and systems – public schools, hospitals, and brought about the greatest accumulation of distributed wealth the world had seen.  Ok.  So there were (former and current) slaves, labor riots, deplorable factory conditions, rape of the environment, abuse of native peoples, confiscated land (both from indigenous peoples for settlers then from the settlers to industrialists building railroads), preventable epidemics, experiments on the mentally ill, the retarded, we used words like “retarded,” prison labor, corrupt elections, mafias, cigarettes, unexplained fires, cats went missing, someone drank the last beer in the fridge, cheese was moved and then someone who wrote about that moved cheese and made millions.

It was with this book about Who Moved My Cheese (WMMC), you can say was the high-water mark for America the beautiful, the land of opportunity.   From this cheese parable, we explained that we all needed to learn to deal, not to question or get angry, or put the thing back that was moved.  We finally reached the point where the goofy masturbation of progressive psychotherapy, the evil idiocy of Freedmanist economics, the salad tossing neoconservative warmongers, and the trickle-down hyperconsumer public, the fat and sassy 300 millions in our nation of type 2 diabetics and selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor addicted were able to reach agreement that life was about change and that change was what everyone needed no matter the cost or reason or even if that change was needed.  And so the parable was born, a nation of cheese-movers made.

So, Cockbiter and Buttlicker, are two mice – like, miniature humans but this is a parable man… dude… friend… so like these mice… see… they are like dude, so in a maze doing their mousy little things until they learn to like… totally “be ready to change quickly and enjoy it again and again” cause like shit, like… the cheese is never going to run out and you know…. the earth is flat and in the morning you are either the lion or like the gazelle cause we all gotta’ run…  Rather than help each other in a cooperative way, cause that’d be communist, and we all need fresh cheese and to know shit man, cheese is going to be moved man… dude… friend….

Hence from WMMC our nation had already hit a wall in its ability to do anything from which we seem not to want to recover from.  We have now learned how not to build things, not to construct great public works, not to plan for our future, not to have cost-saving public measures, but by 1998 we had learned how not to construct an entire economy.  We build nothing, papers, ideas, cheese but … metaphorical cheese.  Pets.com, com.com, youneedthiswebsite.com, and cheese loving people became FREEAGENTS working for themselves, except that the jobs got more and more obscure, harder to get without fake papers from made up universities, and everyone was a consultant.  In that decade we had learned not to do many things, even though we were frantically moving about, searching, moving, looking, for some fucking cheese.  In the dim hours, those before the bars finally flicker on their lights and toss out the sad sacks, one drunk would lean to another and say, “the quicker you let go of old cheese, the sooner you can enjoy new cheese” and then say that he had been terminated but that it was ok, his lack of money, a place to stay, or resources would only make him innovate cause, man… dude… friend…. “Like, I’m going to be a consultant and move with the flow.”

Communists, Nazis, Jehovah Witnesses are pikers in their ham-fisted propaganda in the face of the New American Management Culture and our friends over at advertising who sell us butts and booze and then sell us alcohol treatments and cures for herpes and wash away these sins with a few hours of penitence by opining in adbusters or going to see a Banksy film.  WMMC was the way for those of us sickened by all this movement to see in the way of constant change, cause, the cheese man… it would never run out.

Butts, Booze, and Bullshit

Then, we the world became a Bruckheimer film.  Daily life became a living breathing version of The Onion newspaper, The Daily Show and Colbert Report had only to open their mouths and did not need to hire even Harvard-educated writers as the bullshit was so obvious.  This past decade, we got better and better at not doing anything, but seeking newer and faster-moving cheese.  However, for the first time, more and more are realizing that this cheese we keep discarding to get new cheese, is finite in its ability to sustain a crazed nation of 300 millions and their fat and sassy lifestyles that they have worked hard to infect the world, a la 28 Days Later, until the world is raging with a virus called consumerism, and none of us can shit fast enough in order to consume the next round of cheese before Sniffy or Scurry can snap it up and pack it into their 401(k)… I mean… dude, to like eat it cause they’s jes’ cute lill’ micies.

What is next not to build?  Not to do?  Perhaps our nation can not win two wars, not cap an oil well, not change our government, not create an economy.  Who cares, it’s just a little-moved cheese and we are jes’ cute lill’ micies living in a fish tank, and that tank is slowly filling up with other lill’ micies and shit.

Editor’s note: this post was gently edited in 2016.  All errors against the English language, syntax, and grammar are intentional.