This is a rant. In which certain potentially offensive subjects are mentioned. Edible people, altar boy cum, the 0.1% of the 1%, and Pope Benedict XVI. Oh, yes, also Bacon Ice Cream. That papist mention should be beyond reproach; but in this day of modern thinking, there could be dissenters. Make that, there are dissenters for sure. Proceed under advisement. Did all the crazy start with Einstein? Maybe. But, around the middle of the last Century — for any readers who have arrived on the scene recently, that would be the 20th — something changed. Maybe it was those damned Hippies? Or, that Rock N' Roll? Elvis, and his pelvis. Peaceniks? Maybe just how it had to be. Heck, up until then, things had been pretty well set. You knew where you stood. And, you were content to stay there. Give us that old reliable status quo. Mustard on hot dogs. Ketchup on hamburgers. Bacon in ice cream. Hell NO!!! But, things changed. Things'll do that, you know. Haven't you heard? That's a universal law. The constancy of change. Buddha, and his bunch. Up until then, a man was a man. A woman was a woman. And that's the way we liked it. Or, that's the way we said we liked it. 'Cause, different from the consensus reality wasn't exactly a position you'd want to be in. Or, admit to it, anyway. Unacceptable! Toe the line. Don't rock the boat. Now, however, it's a Brave New World. You're not anybody now unless you are rocking the boat. Or, at least the appearance of such. Let's be honest, the folks who rule the world — the .01 of the 1% — tolerate a level of criticism and deviance. Just so long as it doesn't eat into their .01%. As long as the rebels aren't storming the gate, let them eat cake. Whatever ... the mob likes. Let's keep them distracted with the media circus. Just don't get too rowdy, folks. Remember that prime agent of the Evil Empire, Karl Marx with his idea that "The ruling ideas of each age have ever been the ideas of the ruling class." Such BS. Or ... we'll see how that question gets answered. You can only fool the people so long. Or, to put it more sharply ... folk only take so much sh*t. Our world is so besotted with the phantasmagoria of spectacle and plethora of experience it takes something really outrageous and extreme to capture the brief moment of our evanescent attention. That twerp, Miley, twerking. Octomom. Jocelyn Wildenstein. Kim's booty. I could insert photos, but you will recall easily enough. Point made. W.H.A.T.E.V.E.R. So what if I like bacon ice cream. Fine, in the privacy of your own home. In New York City, you're a schmuck if you haven't tried that, or Uni Gelato, or altar boy cum foamed onto a wild caught shark taco (look for that in Williamsburg, Brooklyn ... "Coming" Soon!). I just heard about a four year old kid, born female, who wants to be a boy. Go f*cking figure. Four years old? The parents are supportive. I hope they'll be just as supportive when their "son" decides they are too much of a drain on his resources and wants to do away with them. Don't think that's too far fetched. In a culture driven by greed and profit, somebody will inevitably come up with the bright idea to do away with the "scrap". There was a movie, Soylent Green; a look into such a future. The bright note is that the stuff was edible. Win, win. There's glimmerings right now. Not long ago on the Stephen Colbert show there was a guest interviewed who was marketing a super-food he named "Soylent". It really floored me that the otherwise quick-witted Mr. Colbert didn't bring up the reference to the movie. He lives in my town, and I've rubbed shoulders with him shopping. I will pose the question next time we meet. Hey, Steve ... did you know Soylent was ... people! So, what am I talking about. Post-Modernism. Duh! [Do I have to spell it out?] That thinking goes — my own thinking on the subject, anyway — that since nothing has intrinsic meaning and we create the meaning things have for us, the meaning is relative. Your meaning. My meaning. I came into adulthood with the notion that there were certainties. Also, with a good measure of my own self-assured sense that my point of view reflected some established truth. Ah, youth. Then, when things in my life hadn't been turning out the way I thought they should, along comes a friend to announce to me that things, in fact, were "Loosey Goosey". Everyone is standing around that elephant and arguing about their different perspectives.
Well, things are indeed "Loosey Goosey" now! Everyone is going around being all they can be. At least in the US of A, and Western Culture in general. I did tell my daughters to marry within species, so at least that convention is holding up. It's a fraught discussion we're having. I'll not get into any can of worms. Not that there's anything wrong with worms. Some of my best friends are. In my college prep school days the big question for debate was, "Does the end justify the means?". We have the answer. No, not, "When it does". But ... "Always!".
The recent Pope Benedict XVI on this subject at the opening of the conclave in 2005 said,"We are building a dictatorship of relativism that does not recognize anything as definitive and whose ultimate standard consists solely of one's own ego and desires." Dear Benedict said it best: