Not easy to say 'enough is enough'

Joe,

Jesus, you've summed up beautifully the mess that many feel trapped in. Even the less rich ones, who have to cling to their shitty jobs due to the iron fist of the insurance industry clutching their necks. And, at the heart of all this is the ethic that "more is better." Each of us under an obligation to "give our children more than we had," the capitalist system of always having to make a profit and expand just to be able to cover the interest charges on everything starting out with the money supply leased from the Federal Reserve, and extending to all the investments at every turn. It's a nightmare of bondage and bad karma.

I believe that untangling this web of consumer slavery is to focus on the concept of "enough." It's not easy to declare "this is enough." But, little by little, changes are made. It's getting difficult for me to identify with those yuppies in the malls. I have only been to a mall once in several years. The Valentine's Day before last, my husband and I went to a mall to purchase some nice perfume. It was a romantic, special moment to indulge my desire for an exotic fragrance. I don't regret it.

But, most of the time, we make a serious effort to unhook and resist the corporate programming. We sold our mortaged home, paid off the credit cards, and bought an acre of land with an older mobile home on it -- cash. All paid for. Boy, that feels good. My old friends in Tahoe tease me about living in a dumpy area. They offered to give me an old car that I could set up on blocks for a going away present to Oregon. That's OK. When the derivatives market tanks, the housing bubble bursts, gas goes to $4 per gallon, and they lose their jobs and their big, fancy homes, this little acre is going to look like a mighty good place to park a camper.

The tether to the medical care in this country is even more difficult because it requires one to declare "enough" on more than your material goods. You have to be able to say, enough to your time on earth. I don't have insurance. I pay cash for all my medical care and prescriptions.

I am 57 years old and have high blood pressure and low thyroid and possibly fibromyalgia that puts me in a world of hurt a lot of the time. But I find it to be cheaper to pay for the medicine I need than to pay for medical insurance. And, for those things that would be large, emergency outlays, I will decline. If I have a heart attack, for instance, I will simply stay home and see what happens. If I get cancer, I will eat healthy, drink medicinal teas, etc. But, I will not get chemotherapy. Why? I think the world has way more than enough people on it. And I will refuse to spend my last dime on medical care and impoverish my husband and son. I am in touch with my gratitude for the life that I have lived and am living. It is enough. I don't have to struggle for more and more months and years. This sets me free from the tyranny of the health care industry. In fact, it sets me free from tyranny from a lot of places.

Once one is free from the fear of death, one is empowered in ways never even thought of. I have disconnected my satellite dish. No more commercials for me. No more political ads in the upcoming elections. Yea!

I go to bed happy every night and grateful for my husband, my son, my friends, and my life. It is enough. "My cup runneth over." I love you, Joe Bageant. I hope you make it to Belize. But even if you don't, you have at least created a little "Belize" space in our hearts for which I am grateful.

Sincerely,

Pam
Oregon

------

Dear Pam:

Well, those yupsters will be very damned lucky if the price of gas is less than 8 bucks a gallon a few years from now. Been watching the Peak Oil reports?

As to covering the accelerating cost of money to finance the ever accelerating expansion of the economy based upon the impossible concept of infinite growth based on finite resources ... well ... I'll bet there isn't one American in a hundred who grasps that such a system must ultimately cannibalize itself and hold its citizens increasingly in debt bondage self just to survive at all.

We have entered that phase. At what point is it recognized as slavery? Apparently never. So long as new goods and commodities can be created to convince people that "this is as good as it gets." (Until it gets even better.) "We live in the best of all possible worlds." It is positively astounding how even the most malignant national illusion can be so sustained.

For example, despite that people in North Korea have experienced famine to the degree that a couple winters ago they were eating frozen grasses from the fields, ordinary South Koreans remain convinced that the world is jealous of their nation's wealth and affluence, as demonstrated by their military forces, new buildings and colorful massive human displays of gymnastics and precision flag drills.

Americans, having been conditioned from birth in the atmosphere of such capitalist malignancy, indeed being unquestioning individual cells in its souless expansion, are functionally happy in the only way they know how to be happy. Just like the North Koreans are a moreover satisfied people, taken on the whole. If one settles . By that standard a flatworm has a good life.

Likewise, Americans suffer under the hallucination that the actual squandering of valuable life hours and breath in pursuit of an over-plentitude of utterly pointless technology and meaningless distractions is wealth and that such "wealth" equals the only kind of happiness existent. I really don't expect anything to change until generalized global warfare, pandemics and eco collapse cuts the population down to something more manageable, and basic human misery is more equally dispersed among whatever few are left across the planet to scrabble for resources. At such time cooperation and material modesty may look more attractive. Or not. Certainly it will require at least some cooperation, I would think.

Regarding healthcare, I have come to exactly the same conclusions. I am not afraid to die. I'm afraid to live out this system's inevitable outcome.

Whatever.

Joe