Now, in our winter of discontent
When forty mishaps have furrowed our brow
And gouged deep wedges in our self-esteem
Our native proud glory, gazed on now,
Looks a tattered remnant, of little worth held
Yet – may a bequest of rueful regret to all,
sum our account? And excuse our vain folly
Americans might be expected to be singing the Blues. We, as a country, have experienced a string of painful disappointments. Forever wars that we lose outright or abandon to chaos and suffering as our legacy. We huffed and puffed in a vain effort to bring down Russia only to see the Russians prevail in Ukraine militarily and to emerge from the test in better shape than our European allies/vassals. Now, we have dishonored America, along with every principle and ideal we supposedly embody and cherish, by acting as accomplices in the gravest crimes against humanity committed massively in Gaza and Yemen. To ensure that the future will be as perverse and dangerous as the present, we are locking ourselves into a Cold War between our camp and a Sino-Russian-led bloc which the United States has instigated and welcomes.
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At home, the scene is equally dismal. We already are deep into a Presidential election season that offers no reason for hope and good reason for dread. The ship of state is leaderless and rudderless while those grabbing for the tiller are prepared to drive it onto the rocks. The inconceivable – Fascism with American characteristics – looms on the horizon. Meanwhile, the yawning gap between the super-rich and the rest of us entraps the many struggling to meet their essential needs, tax revenue starved governments neglect basic infrastructure – social as well as physical - on which a modern society critically depends, and the strongest passions are generated by an obsession with so-called ‘identity’ issues which are the hallmark of a confused, disoriented and increasingly narcissistic society.
The outlook is forbidding: 'We have drowned our honor in a shallow cup; and sold our reputation for a song'
But the Blues are not being heard – nor will they be. For the Blues expresses an abiding melancholy that neither will dissipate nor yield to individual initiative. It’s a condition that presumes an unchanging world of tribulation wherein only frustration and futility await those who struggle to overcome it. Yet, we must live this life as we find it.
Nothing is more alien to the American spirit than this soulful mood. Our national credo stresses a progressive improvement in all things, rewards for earnest endeavor, and a can-do ethic. “There’s always tomorrow; If at first you don’t succeed, try..try..try again; When the going gets tough, the tough get going; Just suck it up; Only way is up; Look on the bright side; Never say never; Somewhere over the rainbow.”
Americans always have fixed their gaze on the sunny side of the street. Its glow beckoned even to those who were not already basking in it. The ethos told us: it’s up to you to wend your way through the traffic to reach the promised land. These days, the traffic is more erratic and the passage more hazardous. In stark contrast, the true Blues was born of a fatalistic culture among blacks in the Deep South.
This essay tries to convey what it was about – and, implicitly, why today’s mainstream America will find other ways to express its pervasive discontents. The most baneful already are on display.
Michael Brenner
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BLUES FINAL (1).docx
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