Something’s going on between China and Tibet–I don’t know what, exactly, but the Dalai Lama is involved, so I’m guessing it’s big salami [do they have salami in Asia?].
Watching all of this political turbulence on the news (combined with the tumultuous and heart-wrenching music of The Beatles on American Idol) has moved me to the realisation of something very grave indeed:
I don’t have a cause.
Oh, sure, I’m going green and all that, but really all I do is recycle, use fluorescent light bulbs and buy new appliances. I don’t picket billion-dollar enterprises or attend conferences or raise my own free-range chickens. I don’t take my own grocery bags to the market, buy organic anything, or store leftovers in glass containers.
In other words, I’m a farce.
I want to be passionate about something. Not anything annoying like timeshares or geneology (I hate getting accosted by timeshare people and genealogists), but…something. I want to wake up and hop out of bed ready to lobby–go to war, so to speak. I want to work hard and endlessly for a purpose, whether it be saving the seals and eels, liberalizing women of the third world, or protecting our rain forests. I need a cause.
Know what I crave? Upheaval. If I’d been born in the ’60s or ’70s, I’m sure I would have attended sit-ins, protests, marches and the like–I thrive on that kind of drama. I’d have likely been arrested…more than once. I wouldn’t have done drugs, of course, but I would have surely acted high–high on the action.
The only problem is…there are so many problems–so many good causes. Which one is noblest? Which one is likely to be resolved? Onto which bandwagon can I hop?
And, most importantly…what will enrage me enough to keep up the motivation?