A Fight

I’ve been thinking about fighting. Not in the fist to fist, gun to gun kind of way. Not fighting as in “my parents just got into a really bad fight and it sucked”. No, not that kind of fighting.

Maybe struggle is the word I'm looking for, but a fight is what it feels like. I’ve been thinking about fighting in the sense of basic human rights. I know, “basic human rights” is a completely subjective term when used in comparison with the rights of others in countries that aren’t the United States.

But I live in the U.S. and as so my expectation for basic human rights encompasses things like affordable, humane housing, a working wage that can sustain basic food needs (meaning food education and healthy, local, organic food being affordable for everyone in America, not just white folks like me) and basic living needs (yet again I understand that the term “basic” is a fairly loaded one. Especially in a country where one persons “basic” means 300 channels on a flat screen wall mounted plasma t.v. while at the same time a single mother is working three jobs just trying to earn enough money to buy the meds her son needs just to keep from having epileptic seizures).

I suppose universal medical care is too much to ask of from the richest country in the world. Oh wait; we are the richest country in the world because we exploit not only the peoples of other nations but also the people of our very own nation, putting them in the chains of debt slavery if they even dare to get seriously ill or happen to be born anything short of perfectly healthy.

What is an insurance company if it isn’t anything more than a glorified, government endorsed mob system? You pay your monthly “coverage” just in case anything happens to you and then if, god forbid, something does happen you have to fight with the very company you “paid off” all those years just to get them to cover the costs of your medical care.

Anyone else see the madness in this?

So we fight. We fight for what shouldn’t have to be fought for (should equality have to be fought for?). Its like drowning and trying to kick your way back to the surface only to be accosted as soon as you get your head above water with questions like, “why do you need air, why do you want to breath?”

Why do I need air? What kind of question is that? Because I was made to breath the same oxygen that your lungs need.

Come to think of it maybe I am talking to the wrong audience. How many of you reading this even know what I am talking about? Have you even experienced this struggle? Have I? Am I just standing on top of the mountain and acting like I know what its like to be living in the valley? Perhaps.

But if you live in America and grew up middle class you’re either going up the financial ladder or falling off of it; and whether it’s intentional, situational or circumstantial most of us are falling. You think you cant relate to the poor in America well don’t worry, most of us are quickly headed to poverty.

I don’t say this as a bad thing. The poor need a voice in this society as much as you or I do. And not just a voice but a voice that is heard and acted upon. Truth of the matter is most of us wont live and struggle with the poor until we ourselves are impoverished.

I know, my views are “out there” and very polarizing. But I'm not here to make you feel fuzzy inside and I'm not here to mince words. If you want that listen to any of those talking heads the corporate media outlets broadcast 24/7, they’ll say whatever it takes to get your vote.

I struggle with my privilege. I am white, male and assertive in a country where we have never had anything but white males as presidents. If I am hesitant to speak out it's only because it’s so easy for me to do it. I have the resources at my fingertips. I speak and people listen. This power scares me.

So I struggle with this power. Maybe that’s the fight I speak of. A fight to not become disconnected from the reality of the world around me. A fight to not get rich, a fight to not get lazy, and a fight to not get sucked into a lifestyle that would take me away from the everyday struggle that many Americans live within.

And just too end this rather heavy post on a lighter note I’ll show you one fight that we can all be excited to struggle through: a pillow fight. That’s right. While cruising the city with my good friends Sam and Jen we were able to witness a pillow fight flash mob in front of Pike Place Market. And it was awesome! Here is some footage of the chaos that ensued as soon as the whistle was blown. Enjoy.