I am not entirely sure what to write.  It's sort of like reminiscing, but not...I suppose because I wasn't around to live in those days.  Nor is anything that I am going to say be of any merit.  I must forewarn you, this will be a ramble at best.  

 

I suppose my questioning is "What happened?"Forty years ago, the youth in this country were extremely active.  Politically.  They didn't like something they took the the streets.  They rallied together, they brought forth change.  That was at a time when no one had cell phones, there weren't any blogs, there weren't ways to get information as quickly as easily as you can today.  No one twittered "Rally at the SAC 4pm." and masses would show up. (Which you can use to do!) But now, now our rights are being stepped upon and all we did was rally behind a presidential candidate who, is far better than what he had, but by no means the solution and sit back and shut up now that it's over.  Which it's most certainly is not, not by a long shot. 

Growing up, I loved history.  Infact I still love history, I just never full appreciated US History (with the exception of 8th grade, because Mr. Otlowski, you are a wonderful history teacher and you actually made it exciting, fun and relevant!) until I grew up and realized the importance of such paperwork as the Declaration of Indepence and the US Constitution.  These rights ladies and gentlemen, the liberties you have, these freedoms, well they get trampled on, you just don't notice it because it's under the veil of, well there's terrorists or it doesn't affect me.  But once one group of people gets their rights trampled on,  it's just as easy to have your rights trampled on and by the time they're coming for you.  It's already too late.  You might think what do I have to lose, if I've got nothing to hide then who cares who is listening, then who cares what is happening to the guy down the street and so on and so forth.  But the thing is, it does matter who is listening, because they shouldn't be listening, even if you are just talking to your friend about the delicious sandwich you just had.  

Shit's in a mess, you need to open up your ears and clean out your eyes and when you do, well of course there will be fancy little shirts, buttons, bumper stickers and of course all wonderful animated gifs for you to bombard your shitastically coded myspace pages and you'll feel like you're doing something, because really what can you do? Your dissent is commodified and even if it's not your dissent you own up to it because it's the cool thing to do.  Aye aye aye.  It sucks feeling trapped.  

They used to say you couldn't trust anyone over 30, now I feel like you can't depend on anyone under 30 to know what the fuck is going on. 

This turned into a ramble.  One which I'll falsely promise to revisit and edit.  I promise. But it's time for sleep and my head is a mess.  Good night.