THE TRUTH ABOUT OLD MEN - Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Enlightenment Hell. You cannot avoid it once you relocate from the suburbs of stupidity and move to the retirement village where you will be honored and respected as a drooling vegetable by citizens who regard you with all the indifference you have earned.

Now that we have identified capitalism as a danger to the planet, it is important to immediately probe the reason we are recommending it as an economic system, despite its harmful impact on the environment. There are, to be sure, inherent dangers in the system; defoliation of the rain forests, pollution of the rivers and oceans and possible damage to the ozone layer are chief among the harmful effects of a system that encourages its citizens to compete like gladiators in an arena mindless of the carnage that could break out in the stands and turn our adventure into one really bad day at the mall.

Capitalism is not wisely conducted as a free-for-all. Its downside must be acknowledged and carefully monitored and controlled by representatives of the people who acknowledge its danger. This control is also necessary to deal with another inherent weakness of capitalism: over the long haul it is not a stable economic system. From time to time, it breaks down and chaos occurs. Why, with all this bad baggage, would a prudent veteran of six American decades look back over the history of capitalism in America and still recommend it?

In his documentary, “Capitalism; A Love Story” Michael Moore makes the point that capitalism does not work by reminding us that it’s had more than enough time to prove itself in America and we wouldn’t be in the mess we are if it worked. He points out how often taxpayers have had to bail out big business.

Overcome by the fog atop the mountain, as most middle-agers are, Moore finds comfort among millions of Americans who believe the utility of capitalism should be measured by whether or not it produces economic health for the country using it. This is a sad turn of events, because Michael Moore is a brilliant film maker and his documentaries are extremely influential.

Again, the old man is torn between two possibilities. On the one hand he must ask, “Has Moore merely found a spin on reality he can use to make a few bucks?” Is he just using this point of view conjured from muddy thinking to further his career as a film maker? Is he like the thousands of other authors, film makers and politicians who have no interest in truth or enlightenment and are obsessed with profit, no matter the cost to those who consume the pony pucky they spew? Or, is Michael Moore really as thick of wit and one-dimensional in his thinking as this point of view suggests? Should “moron” be his middle name?

Over here on the down side of the mountain, in the clear light of a sunny day and in the absence of the confusion foggy thinking produces…down here where people with a lifetime of thinking over such issues reside, the function of an economic system looks entirely different than such as Michael Moore perceive it.

Economic systems, like militarism, politics, art and science must be measured according to their impact on the population that uses them. For instance, there’s much to be said for the ideology out of which a socialist system grows. It’s well intended and might even be a sturdier system than capitalism if the only yardstick we use to assign it value is functionality. But the net result of socialism is that too little incentive to invent, produce and labor diligently grows from it. Whether it works or not as an economic system is not as important as what kind of result it produces in the long-term fortunes of the nation where it is in place.

The impact of capitalism on Americans is that the gifted microcosm is inspired to amass great wealth by the fertile soil of incentives it produces. The result of that is a never-ending flow of new inventions, new systems and human progress, and the result of those is America; the super nation. From the beginning of our national story such individuals born in other countries have abandoned their native land and made their way to America where the fruits of their labor and creativity can bring them personal profit. That is the measure of capitalism. If it must be buoyed up by government hand-outs, constantly reconstructed so that it may endure or periodically reshaped when its result is too great a concentration of wealth, then these remedies for the inherent weakness of capitalism (greed and abuse) must be put in place.

An old man can’t help thinking Michael Moore has a brain. Late at night when his head hits the pillow and he dwells on his own unique fantasies he may see himself in a room with Michael, slapping the corpulent nitwit around. He may insist on an answer to a most fundamental question. “Michael, how do you explain the success of America or do you outright deny it is the most powerful and influential nation ever to grace the planet?” WHACK! “Let’s have an answer, you vaporous, porcine trough dweller!” WHACK! “Don’t blubber, butt sucker. Do you think natural resources are responsible? Do you lay it off on freedom to worship, free speech, the free press we had before the corporations bought it? What do you think is responsible for the most successful nation in the history of humanity if not this system of capitalism that inspires each individual to contribute his best effort to the common good?” WHACK! “And where, Michael, do you find such incentive to contribute present in a system that conscripts earned wealth and redistributes it to those who have greater need?” WHACK! “You commie sow!”

It is here on the pillow in the moments before surrender to sleep that the old man fights his greatest battles. Bosses have fallen. Politicians have been striped. Wives have been punished and merchants who do not refund without a service contract have been eviscerated.

Only last night, in the moments prior to slumber, I was flying up and down the boulevard in front of the United Nations in a red cape and tights. Muammar Gaddafi was mounting the podium inside the building. I swooped in, melting the security with my x-ray vision and tossing body guards through plate glass windows like they were rag dolls. I lit on the dais and put an open hand over Muammar’s face, pushing him into the third row with a stiff arm as I learned to do when I was scoring touchdowns for the Denver Broncos in a separate daydream. “Fix your robe,” I insisted. “Take off that damn beanie cap, you fashion nightmare. What? Swine flu was invented as a military weapon? You need 58-pages of handwritten notes on 6 different kinds of paper to explain that? Did you prepare for this speech in a coffee shop? WHACK!

These daydreams old men have at the close of day are essential to the well-being of the unit. Mine have brought truth, justice and sexual satisfaction to countless days that might otherwise have passed without significant notation. They help an old man participate in the circus without soiling his pajamas beyond what obligation nature imposes as the night wears on.