Stagnation of the Species

I am filled with ambivalence and uncertainty about virtually everything. Observe the way I use the word "virtually" in the previous sentence. Uncomfortable and unable to commit to a statement of absolute certainty, I always give myself room to maneuver; I always leave myself an out. I think of how I answer even simple questions. For example, sometimes people ask me what I will be doing after work or on the weekend. "I'll probably relax. Maybe watch a movie." This is how I often respond. I rarely complete such sentences without using words like "probably" or "maybe" or "rarely." I want to complete my sentences without using these words, but I cannot. Usually.

I am assaulted daily by a blizzard of news stories that never stop. Thirsting for knowledge to pin down the world, I do my best to discriminate and digest the important details. But what are the important details? The more I read, the more unsure I am of the answer. I watch other people hunker down and take sides. "The health care bill is a necessary evil. Pass it," one might say. "The health care bill is nothing but a handout to the insurance industry. Don't pass it," another might shout. Both arguments seem valid. Which side do I choose? All too often I feel that my opinion is born out of capriciousness and incomplete information.

I wonder how often people continue to advance a particular argument because they had happened to publicly announce it the previous week. In their struggle for consistency in spite of honesty, they make the same argument this week. Afraid to choose an opposing side in the face of contrary evidence, they merely parrot the points made by their comrades. How often does this happen?

And to complicate matters, we are molested by a media that prides itself on prodding consumers to make irrational decisions. If it's difficult to make a decision with unadulterated information, how can we possibly do so with lies prancing among half-truths?

Maybe tomorrow I'll wake up and take a different tack in my quest for answers. Then again, maybe I won't. Maybe I'll grow tired of the act of analysis and elevate ignorance to the status of a religion. Then again, maybe I'll continue down the same path and ignore my personal heresies. Maybe next week I'll denounce my complicity in this game of musical chairs disguised as progress. Then again, maybe I'll watch a movie instead, or merely speculate on the stagnation of the species. In this way, I won't completely shed my culpability in perpetuating our false hopes and eternal illusions, but I will be able to elaborate on my guilt in theory. At the very least, this should allow me to sleep well at night.

Perhaps we would be better off as vegetables—a piece of broccoli, or perhaps lettuce—uncorrupted by the mere temptation to discern. Forced into an existence anterior to ambulation, the mere idea of action becomes derogatory. And in a world devoid of action, there are no events to ponder and no sides to take. In the disdain we show for the supposed insignificance of the plant kingdom, we subtly point the finger back at ourselves. Inflicted with the tendency to elevate the illusion of progress above all else, we choose to run in place rather than refrain from running at all. On this matter, at least, I know which side I choose.