The Maelstrom

These are turbulent times for all of us.

Hurricane Gustav battered the Caribbean and Gulf Coast of the United States, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. As we speak, tropical storm Hanna is unleashing its fury on the eastern seaboard, and hurricane Ike, now at "Category 4" status, is blazing a trail across the Atlantic, with Florida in its sights - rather than featuring the islands it is crossing, the twenty-four-hour news stations are showing us images of frenetic Floridians scrambling to gather provisions and plywood, but I guess we look after "our own" first.

When Burma was struck by a cyclone earlier this year, I remarked that the puissance of the storm was a consequence of our living in the fast lane; the same can be said of the frequency and ferocity of the storms we experience, wherever we may live. In the grand scheme of infinity, perhaps Mother Nature is responding to the awesome, unchecked force unleased on her and her constituents, one I wish to dub "Hurricane Whitey", though it is by no means a phenomenon exclusive to Him.

You see, friends, our media magnates report this "Gustav" slamming Haïti and killing a dozen or so people, yet will say nothing about the chaos wrought by Hurricane Whitey, the juggernaut that deposed its democratically elected President and swept a pro-business plutocrat into power, that brought an occupying force with it, that killed (and continues to kill) scores of people. The same Hurricane Whitey - in the form of negligence, apathy and opportunity - perpetuates a state of despair in the Ninth Ward of New Orleans while erecting casinos and condominiums where the locals' homes once stood. That's not all, as it continues to wreak havoc on such places as Iraq, Afghanistan and Palestine, and takes aim for Iran and Pakistan. We need not delve into great detail as to what happened when it first arrived in Africa, Australia, Asia and the Americas.

The hurricane winds are a-blowin' here as well. All year long, the storm that is the campaign to elect the President of the United States has been gathering momentum, stirring citizens into a frenzy. From now until early November, the maelstrom will be at its most potent, as we become imbued by the downpour of rhetoric and are tossed in every direction by the fanatical fracas of feces-slinging. To add to the chaos, we Canadian folk are on our merry way to the polls ourselves, as it is all but certain that our Prime Minister - yes, the one who extolled the implementation of fixed election dates to prevent incumbents like himself from calling an election at a most favourable time for his party - is about to call an election at a most favourable time for his party. It has already begun: the winds of the maelstrom are starting to churn on the north side of the forty-ninth, beckoning us humble folk to do our duty and feed it votes, pulling us this way and that in the process.

How does this storm gain so much momentum?

The answer, I'm afraid, is us. We feed it the money and ballots necessary to aggrandize its colossal power, and do so without the slightest idea of what exactly we're doing. We sweep its debris out of our domiciles and neighbourhoods, and cry foul when the winds blow it all back to us. We expend exorbitant amounts of resources buttressing our homes, hoping to render them impervious to the turbulence while leaving others to fend for themselves. We excite the atmosphere with the heaps and heaps of energy we reject into it to expedite our lifestyle. We succumb to the sweet nothings of those who promise "change", unaware that we are merely in th eye of the great storm that only gets worse again because we fail to get better.

It is us, then, who must reduce this hurricane, this austere force, to a spittle cloud. Perhaps by the time this is done, we will be standing with the shards of former glory at our feet, wondering what to do now. Personally, I like to think something can be done sooner, rather than later. Why not start now, by not casting our votes for one or the other (or even the other, depending on where you may reside)? Why not put a halt to surrendering our power to this maelstrom and instead retain it for ourselves to decide what's best for us? Furthermore, why not all of us take a day off work together and take care of each other? Why not make it a few days? a fortnight? a month?

We're all caught in the maelstrom together, but together, we can mitigate its severity until it is but a gentle breeze blowing softly through the leaves; and we are no longer grappling for dear life as we navigate the ocean's turbulent waves, but rather floating blissfully on its halcyon surface.

Mahalo.