I just read this article about the present and it’s complications and it’s got me thinking I’m in a SCI Fi film. The plot involves a time slip. My molecules have been pushed a few nanoseconds into the future and everything is the wrong color. No one seems to hear me and everyone sounds like a slow jam Screwtape in reverse. We are doing it wrong. We are building starships when we could just as easily bend space and bring new frontiers to our doorsteps. ok, ok, ok. Maybe my world is not so Science fictional. Maybe it’s all in my head and I am caught in an undulating daydream of Black Power Nostalgia and Pro Black Utopia and constantly waking to the reality of Debt burdened Shape Centers, and Drone running presidents. Chavez just died of cancer and i hear they’re gonna put his body on permanent display. Zoinks!
For real ya’ll, we have to figure this out. I am an unabashed lover of everything Malcolm X, but instead constantly deifying his essence, how do we move forward with the lessons blazing out his window from that M-1 Carbine? I think we have to begin by re-imaging the future of course. But those old school socialists chants and brazen fist pumps seem too faint now to drown out the gentrification and political okie-dokes cranked up to eleven. Utopic visions of racial solidarity and New Alkebu-lans, fall short when our rappers make allusions between their long strokes and Emmett Till’s bruised and broken face. The future no longer seems worth it.
In 2001 (hint hint), Marvel comics produced another comic book iteration of their mutant outcasts franchise, the New X-Men. (Those first 15 or so issues are really great you should check them out.) Curiously, however, these super heroes wore leather jackets and boots instead of the usual brightly multicolored spandex we associate with the genre. These new outfits seemed to reflect a real world normalcy instead of spectacle. This costume change was well received and duplicated later in the movie versions, and it’s now standard to see other films of action and super powered heroes in the jet black leather get ups. Strange that in a sense, even in our comic book fictions we seek to reproduce utterly tangible realities. I wonder if we are weary of the reach that produces empty grasps? No more shooting vinyl communications into the abyss of space, better to seek out microbes on crashing meteorites.
I guess the weight of practicality and the tedium of day to day life is really really heavy. No time to think about what’s next anymore