meaning what, pop can't stop it?

I always want to write and usually feel an eqivalent force inside of me, coinciding, that wants to leave all that I might say in it's state of infinite perfection...as unsaid.
I have made some changes very recently to my way of approaching life.
I have decided to revisit my relationship with smoking and drinking.
I have decided to revisit my views on work, my behavioral patterns, my tensions and agitations...
Some things must be left behind.
One flaw in my being super critical is that tension which persists, which steals my composure as a parent earlier than I would like, that steals my ability to grasp the milieu i exist in, in meaningful terms...
Criticism is a never ending intense spiral which cannot yield what it is not based on. That ingredient, satisfaction, relaxation, relief is a counter faculty.
Am I recuperating the devastation of capitalism or of activism?
The real insurrectionary escapes me... like some character in a novel mythologically construed transcendent creature.
At very least i do not want to be first or even first wave... I don't know if I can strategically commit to this national scenario or if I must consider resettlement as inevitable...
I have started to figure out somethings.
For one the problem in this country is that it is designed to deform everybody in it. No one escapes the mutagenic culture which creates a monster in each of us. Tom Tommorrow nailed it in the context of people or rather so called "conventional wisdom" rationalizing torture.
It goes much deeper than that. Much deeper than the ultra individualist who would rather slog through unnecessary paperwork , rejection in the time of greatest need, and likely no possible way to pay for their health failing without the moribund insurance sector providing meager assistance at least.
Much deeper than the total misappropriation of labels when a gay jew and a mixed race president being labeled nazi's by rightwingers with much more in common with nazis than anybody else.
No to cut to the core of it it is this belief that the essential basis for this country is indifference to other people except in as far as they are useful as customers.

It's the malformation of the other, excited and exacerbated by the over competitive, judgemental, scenarios staged throughout upbringing in schools, in experiencing the terrain of social stratification where people access privilege according to capital, and it is all presented as a simple mechanism with simple conclusions.

The problem is that money is not available to all, and not everybody is born to be obsessed about it, but for those who are not, they will be forced by this system to either suffer it's disfavor or to bifurcate their soul to service what they need to get what they want.

The other is always the sneering ne'er do well looking to snatch an advantage, to beat you to the sale, to expropriate your excess., never a creature that could be trusted, nor loved, barely human if at all....
This is the crisis of capitalism, of america, of the west in these settler states. We can never trust each other. not in any large scale type of way. Socialism would be an invitation to new rackets, new shortages, failure would be written before it even began, because the human terrain has been spoiled, almost as a last gasp trick, just in case the soviets succeeded. But it goes back all the way to the original european encounters with the indigenous. It's a feature that embedded itself in western "civilization": betrayal, manipulation, force when possible, win by any and all means possible, ruin and desecrate anything and everything. I'm not saying the indigenous were free of all defects, but what won out in this battle was ugly. Ugly which subordinated all of it's pagans by fire and torture previous, creating a race of people separated from the earth, disconnected from history, connected only through the machinations of power to each other, tenuous at best, but reliably installed with fear, loathing, and an ironic sense of being better despite the persistent outcomes....
This is the legacy we inherit, many of us on the wrong side, the side of the victors burned into our cellular memory.
And americans are it's ultimate culmination. The culmination of those who prefer their own just profits free of all considerations as to where those profits, those products, this economy are leading the world towards. It just couldn't be any other way when the ominous music plays as this civilization poisons and corrupts everything it touches, as it wins despite everything, nature perhaps relieving itself by our self directed suicide.
So perhaps I want to stand back now. Relieve myself of duty. Pop a bag of popcorn and watch the slow moving train wreck as it disintegrates. The wreckage will surely take out a good segment of the stands, and luck has made an inordinately long run in these parts in as far as the ingredients, and our behavior is concerned. Suburban banality can only hold so much longer with the inequality causing people to remember the french revolution more and more each day!
The machine will be left to it's own devices without another one of me there wagging my finger at it as it goes down flaming, so what if I know. No one listens, and apparently it's not up to me to make the clarion call to the future. I now accept that. In my mind my fist clenched as solid as magma in the earth's core unclenches, the heat turns into a cooling light and I am relieved. Completely at least for now. I am relieved. That connection to the core is what counts there is nothing else I can do.