The Last [Hu]Man Standing
Ever notice how people stopped writing folk songs about the I.R.A. when the Provos starting blowing up shopping malls? There is nothing heroic about being a bully. It would seem that the greatest number of folk songs and stories that deal with violence of any sort are usually about the proud few who stood, who refused to run in the face of overwhelming odds.
I feel that way sometimes. Looking out over the horizon of Western culture and seeing nothing but a wasteland of stunted potential.
In all but the rarest instances, the Ancient plays we study survived because they were popular, mass produced, thus increasing their odds of survival. Was Sophocles the Stephen King of his time? I sincerely hope not. But if history continues as it has, future civilizations will judge us as placing Dan Brown and Miley Ray Cyrus at the zenith of our cultural achievements. Argh…
So we fight.
Someday, while Dan Brown is held as high art, a singer will sing songs in a small cyber-cafe. On the wall behind them will be a poster of what trees and blue sky looked like and the customers will drink replicated coffee. The song will be about us, those who did not go gentle into that good night but cranked our tube amps up and kept the neighbours awake ’till dawn.