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Before the bubble bursts…aka “Waiting for Santa Claus before it’s too late”

Waiting for the one day out of the year to be happy all day.
Waiting for the one day out of the year to be happy all day.
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“And even a fool understands that a desperate human is the most dangerous animal in the wild kingdom”. – TheordoreW

Fact: At any given moment around the globe there exists tens of millions of human beings whose entire “personal existence” is full of bitter disappointments and escalating desperation.

Fiction: You can’t do anything about it.

Prologue

The semi-fictional tales that you’re about to read are a public service announcement that’s intended to get you (The Reader) to “Wake the expletive up” before it’s too late and all the “bubbles burst”.

Arguably, we’re living in a rapidly growing, toxic-disposal-bin that’s being polluted by people who can afford to build customized underground nuclear fallout bunkers, elevators in their “home” for their cars and trucks, purchase smog-free islands in the South Pacific and as a side hobby, buy the “Top-shelf” souls of corrupt politicians. So… unless we “little people” collectively wake up and unite against “The Invisible Hand” and their legions of greedy minions, it looks as though I (The Writer) will only have Santa Claus and Christmas Day to look forward to later this year or any future year…well maybe.

Unfortunately I shouldn’t have to wait until December 25th in order to sing songs of Joy, Hope and World Peace. We humans are not designed to overload our body and mind with too much stress. Too much stress creates a world that is full of “bubbles” that beg to be burst.

At the current pace being set for global “natural and unnatural” calamities, a safe bet would be the world can only afford to lose roughly one third of “its bubbles” before our entire planet erupts in total pandemonium.

Look I’m not Nostradamus but you don’t have to be Edgar Cayce: The Sleeping Prophet to figure out we’re only a few bad votes / leaders away from living totally in a 21st century feudalistic society complete with 13th century titles like “Your lordship” and “Your peasantry”.

Or have one third of the bubbles already burst and we’re (I’m) too preoccupied with our (My) own personal drama to even notice? Sometimes it’s too hard to tell.

Act One

In Ryanggang Province, North Korea, a mother whose eyesight is worsening because of Vitamin A deficiency, tearfully admits to herself that inconsolable hunger pangs have not only incapacitated her body, completely subjugating her will to protest against North Korea’s self-appointed, nuclear-powered “Elf King”, but sadly the hunger she now feels has begun to relentlessly torment her nine-month-old child.

Throughout most of the day and throughout half of the night her baby cries in rebellion to its physical anguish; sleep never comes easily when the stomach is perpetually empty.

In the darkness of night “Death waits patiently” by the child’s bed, humming patriotic lullabies that commemorate the greatness of North Korea’s Kim Jong-un.

Her husband has abandoned her and their child. Her body suffers badly from malnutrition and therefore her breast cannot create the milk that’s needed to feed her child. In her mind she sees visions of bubbles floating throughout the valley. Perhaps if the bubbles were to all burst her life would be better. Later that evening she poisons herself and her child. The bubbles are all burst and Death is rewarded for being patient. Gaining two for one is always a good deal, even for a demon.

Act Two

On the outskirts of Damascus in Al-Qabun the sound of automatic rifle fire and mortar explosions rudely awakens a nineteen-year-old.

The young man who dreams of one day becoming a doctor is hopelessly in love with a pretty and virtuous young lady who lives just several kilometers away. The echoes of war painfully remind him that in his adored Syria, it is more than a cliché to say “the good die young”, indeed…it is a painful and abhorrent reality that derives from living in the midst of a bloody three-year civil war.

Later in the day he learns that the pretty and virtuous young lady he fantasizes of marrying has fallen victim to the senseless bedlam in his beloved country.

His father tells him that armed men dressed in the usual garb of Syrian President Bashar al-Assad’s secret police recently broke into her parent’s home, shooting and ultimately killing her father.

He is told that before the gunmen left, they dragged her away in front of her crying and screaming mother and her horrified two little brothers.

Lilith is her name and she hasn’t been seen or heard from in the last seven days. Adad, the aspiring romantic suitor cannot breathe as the bad news registers in his brain. His mind is clouded by odd shaped bubbles that beg to be burst. The next day Adad commits suicide.

Final Act

In Decatur, Georgia a 50 year-old educator with twenty-five years of teaching experience cannot find a job that pays all his bills. Yesterday he received a letter from the state that explained that within the next two weeks his unemployment insurance will end. Speaking of insurance, the man has an unusual growth underneath his left arm pit that’s tender to the touch and he hasn’t paid his family’s expensive health insurance premiums in the last15 months.

Tears well up in his eyes as reality “hits home” that he and his family are living in a dangerous world without health insurance. Who will pay for their doctor bills?

He remembers being told by friends, family, the politicians he religiously votes for and the media sources he trusts, that Obamacare is a loathsome, socialist engineered program that was illegally implemented into law and thrust upon God loving Americans by a Kenyan born Manchurian Candidate who was elected as President of the United States by a powerful consortium of guilt ridden Whites and welfare loving Blacks and Hispanics that’s out to destroy the “American way of life”.

But sometimes unforeseen “circumstance” and Karma has a way of kicking a person squarely in the buttocks as they travel on their perilous “road of life”. To the man with the lump under his left arm pit and can’t find a job because he’s too old for “the system”, all that mumbo-jumbo talk about “We need to take back our country” just doesn’t make sense anymore.

Ashamed of losing his comfortable but hard earned “middle-class” life, his home, his bank savings, his car and his wife’s respect, thoughts of suicide becomes his constant companion. When he closes his eyes he sees bubbles and they’re beginning to “talk to him”. They tell him to be angry, that someone besides he and his family should feel their pain.

Later that day after a heated domestic argument, he shoots his wife and then himself. In a flash the pain has vanished and the bubbles are gone.

In closing

If inevitably the greatness of any civilization is judged by how well its leaders are able to eliminate famine and homelessness, promote good health, set high standards of education that translates into prosperous job / careers for all its citizens while securing peace from within and outside its borders, then how will future scholars ultimately judge the “great civilization” that you currently reside in?

Will they ignore the ugliness and only write about the advances in medicine and science or will they “keep it real” and tell how close we all come to “bursting our bubbles”?

With wars and rumors of wars raging within Syria, the Ukraine, The United States, Israel, The African Congo, Iran, Iraq, Pakistan, Afghanistan and Palestine, have the majority of earthlings with all our assortment of foibles, anxieties, and unrepentant belligerence regressed into a nouveau Dark Ages that’s visibly more Orwellian than benevolent Shangri-La?

People of all ages, nationality and gender are too often trapped with the heavy burden of surviving wars, drought, floods, fires, famine, corruption, physical disabilities, family disasters, job uncertainties and lest we forget the smiling politicians who superciliously engineer a plethora of laws that enviably create voiceless peasants of the world’s “working class” while richly rewarding those who pay handsomely for their political services .

Personally, I’m tired of waiting for Santa Claus to bring a smile to my face for just one frigging day out of the year and I don’t think I’m alone. Sometimes I just feel like bursting the bubbles that surround me and I’m not talking about committing suicide.

Leaders who purposely undervalue, underestimate and marginalize the voiceless, the poor and the near-poor are playing a dangerous game of “Cat and Mouse”.

A wise man once said, “And even a fool understands that a desperate human is the most dangerous animal in the wild kingdom”.

As always, The New Orleans Examiner is interested in what you think. Are we currently living in a world that grows increasingly dangerous each year? And if the answer is “yes”, should world and local leaders pay more attention to “the bubbles” that animatedly float before them? Inquiring minds want to know.

Until the next time, Good day, God bless and Good fishing.