What if behavior is learned, instead of instinctual? What if “Human Nature” is more reflective of our environment, and less our genetics? What are we reflecting?
We are intimidated by our imitation of the intimate infancy of infinity, so we pretend ourselves to be an authority on all things, unimpeachable but unaccountable. We demand our share of the bounty for success while maintaining plausible deniability for failure, and our bite-sized philosophical capacity has moved from bumper stickers through bullet points onto social posts. The more connected we are, the more disconnected we become. What are we reflecting?
We think ourselves to be an independent people, drawing from a deep reservoir of ideas from which to solve the problems we find. No, we are instead largely content to be an over-fed mass, easily entertained and willing to point a finger in blame before lifting one to help. Like a plague of self-righteous parasites, we descend from our egos to consume every inch of every aspect of every trend we were led to before moving on to do it again. Those of us old enough, occasionally lift our heads up above the grazing herd to realize some of these trends begin to look familiar. We throw about each other misappropriated quotes, taken out of context, as if they, in and of themselves, demonstrate some superiority; we then ride our own misplaced sense of inflation back up on high, like thermal drafts, from which we feel we have the authority to judge. We cannot fail, only succeed or be wronged. What are we reflecting?
We defend, with vigor, our abilities to be: propaganda shills, revisionist historians and selective listeners. We proudly raise our banners as zealous guardians of the status-quo, expelling those who do not neatly conform. We fight for causes that may not happen, as we operate in a system wherein obstruction is seen as noble and obfuscation is honorable; we demand capitulation as cooperation but deem compromise as defeat. We demand an expeditionary government: large enough to invade his state and small enough for her uterus. What are we reflecting?
Some of us, through all of this, remain embarrassed by the burden borne by our brothers for we teeter on the edge of death and long to take the plunge. However, we continue to fight for we have failed to forget those we would leave behind. We find ourselves, I find myself, in this double-edged vacuum, blinded by the glaring reflections on both sides, so I find solace here in the solitary where suicide is certainly a solution. What am I absorbing, in this vacuum?
The debate continues regarding whether I, we, find too much or too little courage in the absence of each other, but we have learned that proximity is by itself insufficient.