The Modern Commoner
The Loss of Hope first struck me in the summer of ‘06. First year of university had finished and The Man had just announced huge cuts to our social and arts funding. Nothing new there. I thought the world was fast going down the toilet, but I was different; I was an as-yet-unrecognised-but-soon-to-be genius with hippy parents. Same old story of self-loathing.
The Loss of Hope depressed me at first. The revolutions were over. The Americans had won, with their Fords and their rocket ships and their control of the seas and their bombs and their deliciously-mega-sized instant food. The Russians had tried to do it the other way and failed. Shit, if only I had been Stalin, we’d all be running around in our underwear chasing butterflies and drinking from champagne fountains by now.
Then came The Realisation that it is All Bullshit (TRAB). The revolution is within. We are here because we choose to be. The spirit remains intact. The spirit of the ’60s. Or 1848. Or 1917. Or 1989. Or 2011. Or any other bloody date, ever. History is now. Soda and sneakers are not the enemy. It is ourselves. We are the Invisible Hand.
Then came the the most important moment - The Sharing of Renewed Hope. It is not too late. The time is right now. We are different and we know what is wrong and we are Love, not Profit. A Change is Gonna Come.
- The Modern Commoner