I hate keeping secrets. You know who keeps secrets and tells others to keep secrets? Child molesters. You know who lives a lie? Alcoholics and their family who tries desperately to pretend all is normal. Those are the examples I know up close and personal.
So when I hear "national security" or "don't really audit the Fed" something deep inside me just goes off. Right the fuck off. Visceral anger, yes, but more than that. A nightmarish, twisted, desperate feeling. All that doesn't even describe it right.
You can't tell me that it is good to let people in authority keep secrets from us. Don't give me any shit about our soldiers getting killed. I'm not talking about You Tubing Al Qaeda our troop movements, and you know I'm not, so don't even start any shit like that with me.
The first three words of our social compact are "We the People". What is this country if not the people of it? We are supposed to be the boss of them, not the other way around! How the fuck did we get in this situation? What happened to our spirit? This country was started with a revolution against The Powers That Be, but now? A bunch of co-dependent enablers of the ones who hurt us, over and over.
Shit.
You know what else makes my blood boil? My fellow citizens who excuse this secret keeping shit. "There will be bank runs if the truth was known!" "There will be riots in the streets!" Well whose fault would that be? The motherfuckers who managed everything so poorly and had people murdered with our tax money that it makes people go "Oh shit!" en masse? Just maybe.
No. You will NEVER convince me that keeping secrets from The People is a good thing. Just like the main thing that kept me from ultimately blowing my brains out (I considered it - even made a plan)was facing what had happened and working though it. It was frightening and hurt like hell, but it was the only way to get even semi-healthy and stay alive. It would have been nice if Daddy had faced up to his shit and took responsibility, but he never did. So that's why I say "semi-healthy". Deep scars remain and the cleansing is incomplete. But still. Tell the truth, all of it that you know. Try to get Daddy to tell the truth by confronting him. Even if he refuses (and mine did) you'll be stronger and better off, scars and all, for having done that. At least I can walk around now with a shred of pride in myself. I'm lighter, I'm cleaner inside than what I would have been. Telling the truth and confronting other people's lies - it is good for the soul of an individual and it is good for the soul of a nation of individuals.
I know that will never happen though. It's why I despair for the world. The Big Daddy liars get by with it because they are enabled by a dysfunctional family of petit-bourgeois who cling to the Big Daddy liars and believe they are so dependent on them because of their fucking piddly 401ks. Sit and watch the market like they're some mini-me version of the fat cats. Who only protest feebly and politely when our money is stolen and spent on killing people, because, after all, maybe Big Daddy is right and the boogie man will get us! Who gets fucked? The smallest, weakest ones. The ones who do the work. The ones who shoot and kill because they can't find another way to make a living. The ones who know that day to day reality is this: You only have what little, desperately little, you have because Big Daddy slips you a dime now and then for candy money while making you crawl and degrade yourself. Or what little is left to buy groceries with after mom steals it from his wallet while he's passed out drunk so he can't waste the rest of it on his next pork barrel stupid war drunken binge. If that last bit doesn't remind you of poor people gaming the system, think about it some more.
Oh, but then the words. The sick words. "I'm doing this because I love you." Deep down inside you know something is wrong, but you let it go on because where else can you go, small lefties children? Stay here and put up with it or you'll be put out in the rain with those even worse assholes who not only molest but will hack you to pieces! It's true, the TV told me! That's what your cruel siblings tell you, who instead of defending you, defend the molester and taunt you about having no choice but keep getting fucked. It comes out of their own fear that they're next, I reckon. I guess I don't really blame them, but it makes me feel like I'm in prison having my heart stabbed with long pins; it hurts, it wounds me to a slow death, but I can't get away.
So you know what molested children often do? Withdraw. Shut down. Send their minds out of their bodies because they have to survive somehow. So no matter how much you invite them out to vote play, they just sit there numb in the dark and don't move. Or stay in a world of their own making because this one sucks so bad. Next time you wonder why dumbasses waste their time on American Idol or what the hell ever, remember - getting fucked day after day by the very family system you have to depend on to even eat crumbs hurts so soul deep you detach and give up. You have to mentally flee or crack up entirely.
Trapped. Big Daddy and your cruel siblings tell you that you have to help keep the secret or everything will fall apart. "If I go to jail, the whole family will starve and it will be all your fault!" Big Daddy says. The sibs nod. Mom's off in the kitchen, probably desperately looking for food. Trapped.
You'll probably call me insane for extrapolating my experiences to the our economic and political system. I don't give a shit. That's how I see it.