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We Are Sick, We Are Very Very Sick

Do you feel the malaise? Do you feel that things are not getting better?

I hope you do. I sure do.

The concept of American exceptionalism has been blown so far out of proportion that we are failing to connect with each other on any kind of sincere level. We have become obsessed with possession and consumption and we will do anything to have one more gadget or device than the guy next door. We have created our nice little hell and we are living in it. I can feel the fire on my insides. I can feel the fire on the sides of my eyes and I can feel the fire in the society that surrounds.

We have set ourselves ablaze and I wonder; is there any turning back? No, of course, there is not. There is no turning back. We are forever connected to the guts of our consumption – forever connected to the gluttony of our emptiness. We are hopeless and doomed.

Greece is the perfect example. Everyone wants everything for free. No one should have to work and everyone is entitled to everything. Don’t want to work there? Ok. No problem. You’re entitled to twenty dollars per hour even if you don’t work. Perfect. Now even more middle-class Americans have to shell out more money per capita to help support the European debt crisis. Perfect. Just perfect. This doesn’t even take into account the potential tax hikes that may adversely affect American middle-income earners even more, increasing suffering to an intolerable threshold.

Oh well…someone’s signature somewhere will make it all better, right? Guess so. Waving of the magic wand and lightning down from the buildings. Another rainy day will wash it all away.

And then there’s the Bankers Life & Casualty company; originally founded in 1879. Recently got a prompting from a recruiter to show up for an interview (e-mail communication). Did my homework and scouted the place out (where I am supposed to go for my interview).

From the outside the building looked semi-professional with local fast-food franchises in the vicinity. As soon as I entered I immediately noticed that the elevator to floors above was out-of-order. A woman of darker complexion was sitting on the 1st step of the 1st floor stairwell. She had a cane in one hand and gave the appearance like she was breathing heavily. She said the stairs were a tough walk. I bolted myself up 3 flights of stairs to scope where the interview would be. As I reached the top of the 3rd floor stairwell, 2 gentlemen of darker complexion stood at the entrance to the 3rd floor corridor.

They motioned for me to step inside. I motioned {after you}. The sign for the Bankers Life & Casualty company was on a very small template, positioned on the right wall beside the middle of the door. Thinking for a split second and noticing a thinner gentleman of lighter complexion out of the left corner of my eye, I turned on heel, moving swiftly down each flight of stairs.

If I would have went in that room…well…I don’t know. I might not have been impressed with the interview location.     

Many times the reality presented to you is not the reality.

Do your homework.

If you decide to not move with stealth; go with at least one or two friends. Do not go alone.

Can you feel the malaise? We need to heal. We need to get better.

Matthew Polkinghorne

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