Looking Back from the Year 2020
by Chronofus
11th December 2000


Look, for god's sake, shut up!

I've had enough of your voice echoing in my head, and so far you've barely said a relevant word. Why don't you just bite your tongue and let me enjoy the peace of not hearing a sound from your general direction. I don't know who told you, but it definitely is not a legal requirement for you to have an opinion on every subject, which you can rain down upon we unwashed masses. I don’t want to hear you express it repeatedly to me until I can recite it better than you, with more conviction or comprehension, and I’m sure it’s not a pre requisite of life that silence is never allowed to last long enough for me to collect the scattered fragments of my thoughts and contemplate them in a peaceful, restive state of mind.

I don’t think you should be inflicting yourself upon me whether I deserve it or not, and as startling as it may seem, you are not the first person to discover the human condition, in all its lumpy warts, in recorded history. And should you by chance be the first to discover some so far unknown secret of our mind that truly defines who we are? I would hope you would have the common sense not to make it your personal soap box, which you force upon us as though you had caught some new & rare disease, one so knee tremblingly exciting that you simply must make sure we all catch it to suffer along with you.

So please, take a seat. Sit quietly. Stop this distraction. Why not take some time to quell the voices in your head that for some reason simply must escape your mouth unbidden and unsupervised, because apparently something in your head is trying to distract you from examining it closer. It’s throwing this noise out in an awesome blanket of flak designed to keep any serious investigation at more than at arms reach. Apparently it's doing a terrific job, for you are running around like a headless chicken out here in the socially interactive world totally oblivious to whatever secret you are keeping from yourself.

And don't, oh no, don't you dare say you don't have to look inside because you've already climbed a mountain and met your guru at it's lofty summit. Somehow I fear the narrative of that example has somehow escaped you. It lurks so well camouflaged in sheep’s clothing within the turmoil of the lost, leaderless flock loose in your mind that the idea of enlightenment of your own self is nothing more than a brief image you flick on and off at will while your true self seems to pass over you like a shapeless evil spirit on certain Jewish holy days, unseen and untended, looking for a home to make its own. Apparently the 'noise' from your mouth has driven this inner self out of your head in an insane search of a better home, and the question is for you to figure out why.

Don't expect me or anybody else to explain why this has happened, or even give you hot tips to back the favorite 'in thing' topic of conjecture on which you can nail your excuse for your behaviour.

If you want to save time, I could already tell you that all you'll find at the top of that mountain is cold, wet & white, and won't illuminate your soul anymore than the pupils of your dearest enemy’s eyes. I know you just couldn't possibly believe that. To you there is some bright star out there designated to show just you the way, so that you can in turn lead us all into the Promised Land.

Well, you know what? Get over it. If you're lucky you might discover life, Jim, as we know it. As it's always been, and always will be. And any Promised Land you may find, wandering lost out there in the wilderness with those strange voices in your head for company, if you bring it on home, no one here is going to see it. We couldn't recognise a Promised Land if it smothered us in our sleep. And should by chance we be able to grasp it with both hands and never let it go, our own hearts would corrupt and destroy any promise it ever held. It’s our nature to suck it dry of any possibility for the future, and discard it to squabble with the rest of the pack of humanity over whatever meager scraps we may find some other less enthusiastic person may have left in their discarded dreams.

But still, I wouldn't change you. You're best left as a dire warning to those toiling away through life, doing what they can with what they have. Take solace in the fact you at least provide some quiet relief to some innocent you have mistakenly poured your wisdom over. And as they stand there silently, big eyed, as your words tumble out and envelop them like a raging torrent, and they wonder what you are on about, what they missed, what was wrong with them, they suddenly see what’s happened, like a sun rising through heavy mist. The light shines in their eyes and they realise they are fine, you are the one lost out on some precarious tree limb, high over a remote forest no one has ever heard about. You can watch their little bodies shiver in relief as their brain ticks over and gives thanks that, but for the grace of chance and their own wisdom, it could be them in your shoes, buzzing like a mosquito in a darkened bedroom. Flying always around the face, ready to pounce and bite and draw blood and steal from one who is too tired to keep fighting and resisting, and in frustration rolls over to sleep and let you get about your lecherous business because, quite frankly, they just don't give a damn about what you're doing anymore.

Now don't you fret, I'm sure when the year 2020 rolls around, and the media are doing hoops over their excitement of the symbolism of the year, of how they so expect everyone that year to turn back upon themselves, to find their deepest, darkest belly button, to touch, tease it, to Hoover the lint from it's depths and wash the sweat from it's skin. And somehow, because some certain number of years have passed since an arbitrary date, and some colloquial little saying has passing similarity, we should look back upon the whole host of human history and make some assessment on where we are, where we have been, and what's happening in the next exciting installment. I think we can all bet our last dollar you'll be there, voice leading the cacophony of drunk philosophers, who briefly, for one insane moment, have their second like Icarus in the sun before they thankfully burn to a cinder never to be seen again. You’ll be summarising every little point of history, making your personal judgement on just how the world could have been a better place if they made the decisions you know to be the right ones. Like you have a clue what’s going on, and somehow that every step of social change in history was somehow connected with the phantom of the evolving human brain and that you, yes you, are the pinnacle of this historic achievement.

Yes sir, the harlots of words will be out in force in the year 2020, painted up in every frilly adjective, every cliched simile and colloquialism adorning them like a smug winter coat, They’ll be dissecting the tissues of time, lifting every flap, cutting every muscle to see what effect it has on the passing of things, constantly amazing themselves of the things they don’t understand, and yet somehow finding a neat pigeon hole for it, so it can be tucked away quietly in their order of the universe so that they don’t have to really understand the implications of the interactivity of life. It’s a good thing that aliens are the cause of it all, because it apparently stops normal people from looking at any deeper issues, stops them from taking any responsibility for their own lives and their impact on every little thing, and surely if aliens missed a piece of history to be responsible for, God was their to make sure that prejudice and ignorance was maintained so that we can lay blame on things other than the cause, and we can then sleep soundly at night, much as you might, safe in your cocoon of illusion, knowing that our own actions are completely absolved because, ha, we know what we’re doing, right? Yes, it’s a good thing you’re there to think about these things because no one else is doing it, or has done it, or even imagines it’s possible, right? Yeah, damn good thing you’re here. I can feel the planet lightening up even now with that little inner smile we all have when something is actually going right.

Once you’ve cut off all the loose ends, tossed them into the scrap heap, and when all the show ponies of ‘evolved, collective’ wisdom get up and whinny before the rest of humanity, making themselves look like the end of the horse other than the mouth, I hope it will be you there among them. For at least in comfort I will only have to wait until 2020 to look back upon you and decide I shouldn't really bother looking except as a historical side note which really I'm not going to take any notice of.
But wait, there’s more. What if in 2020 people do look back, like somehow they’ve all caught your insane need to study life rather than live it, share it, and be swept away by it, and they actually discover a little light in their heart. A glow of understanding, compassion, wisdom, and the world becomes a better place as we all dance around hand in hand forever, never again to frown or crawl over each others vanquished bodies as we struggle to gain power over lesser mortals. Yep, it will all be because of you, sweet, wonderful, irrepressible you.

It will be ok though, because we won’t really look back at anything further than the minute before, which will of course give you the opportunity to re analyse everything year after year, because of course we silly people will forget all the time to be looking at ourselves, individually and collectively, to see where we are upto and where we want to be, and how we want to be.
So you’ll probably always have opportunities to ‘speak out’ on behalf of we silent ones who apparently don’t know any better because we never say a word. I’m sure you’ll always have excuses to put yourself in the spotlight, to speak out when no one is speaking, to make sure that if no ones voice is being heard, yours will take the spot and keep us rolling along. After all, is the year 00 really 00. Wasn’t ‘He’ conceived 9 months before, ergo God was in the world 9 months before his birth, and of course he wasn’t born in 00, and what if he was a planned birth, oh oh, that could make things go wonky all over the place huh, it would give you a whole range of years to pick from and celebrate the 2020 anniversary of so you can inform and entertain us with your wisdom year after year. Now wouldn’t that be fun.

I just hope in 2020, after all your words and prostrations, and frustrations and wailing, you finally grasp the fact you’re the same as the rest of us. Maybe you’ve just ‘discovered’ some things about life, but really we all do that, ‘discovering’ things relevant to where we are going or want to go, or things we need to partly ‘discover’ to shield flaws we have, and things we need to see in hindsight because we can’t recognise them any other way.

And when you do finally see just how normal you are, of how smart the rest of us really are, and aren’t, I trust you will have the wisdom and grace for once, even just once, to shut up and leave things alone. To let silence envelop the world in a moment of quiet reverie, where we all sink back into a collective period of contemplation, of bonding in the hidden language of silence, where we can make a moment together mean so much to so many people, and yet for each person, mean something so important and yet different, uncluttered by words, mixed emotions, misunderstanding or inadequacy. A moment of naked emotional bliss unspoiled by words, and full of knowing.
Oh how I look forward to you catching up with the rest of us, and for everything I have to put up with in the meantime, roll on 2020.