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The Quest for More ...

Note: The following is another in a series of columns on subjects of a philosophical or ethical nature by a Schuyler County resident who prefers to go by the nom de plume of A. Moralis -- a reference to what the writer sees as the lack of a moral compass in this country during this rapidly changing Age of the Internet.

By A. Moralis

As I sat at my computer on the Sunday of Thanksgiving weekend -- after the visiting relatives had retreated to their hometowns and the kids of the neighborhood had returned to college after gorging themselves on turkey and pumpkin pie -- two threads of thought worked their way through my head.

One had to do with Thanksgiving itself. We take it for granted -- know that it signals the buying spree called the holiday season, know that it means extra pounds to be worked off at the gym, know that the Pilgrims celebrated it with Indians way back when.

But there is something hidden in there.

What eludes us is the fact that Thanksgiving started out with a strong religious base -- with those Pilgrims using it to thank God for the religious freedom they found in the New World. It’s a secular day now, so decreed by the government back in 1941 when our leaders made the day a federal holiday.

Another thread of thought had to do with Star Wars -- brought on by a TV showing of the third movie in that franchise’s original trilogy, Return of the Jedi. It occurred to me while watching it how engaging it was -- and brought to mind how disengaging its successors were. I refer to the dreck that George Lucas unloaded on us in three prequel films many years after the success of the originals.

Watching Jedi this time, I was struck by how there was something hidden in there, too.

There was, first, the obvious: we had learned in the second film, The Empire Strikes Back (spoiler alert!), that Darth Vader was Luke Skywalker’s father. And we found out here that Princess Leia, who Luke sort of letched for, was in fact his sister. But that incestuous note aside, there was something else going on in Jedi and its two predecessors: religion.

I speak in general terms of The Force, and how it should Be With You in that Galaxy Far, Far Away -- a faith as legendary and gripping as any religion we hold dear on our own planet in our own galaxy.

*****

But back to Thanksgiving.

The Pilgrims were really, really thankful for all the freedom they found over here -- which was understandable, considering there was mostly just wilderness around them and not the usual: a society full of disapproval and of abusive bureaucrats. Their new neighbors were native Americans, and their food source not a P&C but their own hunting and farming abilities, aided by any kindnesses shown by those neighbors.

Considering the harshness of the climate come winter -- imagine your house without central heating or insulation, and a community without a plumber or electrician -- they were no doubt also thankful simply to have survived one such season.

So the Pilgirms partied hearty on Thanksgiving -- for three days with their new best buddies, the natives..

Now, though ... now we have central heating and plumbers and electricians and insulation: plenty to keep us warm in the wintertime, and for that matter occupied. (The Pilgrims, remember, didn’t have TV or radio or computers or much of anything to keep them busy. Bleak, yes? And yet they really were thankful.)

In contrast, I wonder if we really are. Thankful, I mean. Or do we just go through the motions by habit? You know: Reunite with family, bicker, eat, loosen the belt, eat some more, argue a little, and say goodbye at the end with hugs all around.

So it’s not really about religion any more, or about survival -- unless getting through a weekend with relatives can be called surviving.

*****

Of course, there’s the matter of surviving Black Friday, if you’re of a mind to participate in that rather odd rite of the season. I witnessed first-hand a group of twenty or so folks lined up Thanksgiving night, around 7 p.m., outside a Best Buy store at the Pyramid Mall. There were two tents set up among them. They were planning to stay in line for the ensuing 10 hours, waiting to get in the store at the Black Friday opening, and for what??

To get a deal, of course. That’s what the season has too often been reduced to: deals.

We look for things we don’t need at prices we normally can’t afford -- but which on this one day we want to buy because they are -- gasp! -- discounted.

I shook my head at seeing those people. It was a cold evening, heading toward a colder night. And so I thought that maybe, on top of their deals, they might also find something equally valuable there under the stars of the heavens -- under the watchful gaze of God’s nature.

I’m talking about frostbite.

*****

How is it that we have evolved into a nation that celebrates deals .... purchases that call to us through the marvel of print and, increasingly, electronic advertising?

How is it that we celebrate excesses? As in charge cards that are bulging with interest payments that go on forever, and presents that nobody really needs but everybody expects to find under too-often fake trees.

And how is it that these things go on -- as does Thanksgiving -- with little thought to religion? Doesn’t that drain the experiences of any significance -- of anything beyond the measure of immediate gratification and appeasement?

And amid all of that largesse -- that excessive consumerism -- we’ve embraced the safety of political correctness, haven’t we? It goes hand in hand with consumerism and a path away from anything religious. Religion denotes belief or at least faith, and a choice of religion denotes an announcement of the same. It takes grit to make a stand nowadays.

But we tend to follow the crowd, more and more. We don’t wish to offend and potentially get sued for the effort. God knows (dare I say that?) that there is far too much litigation over the trivial. We are easily browbeaten into obeisance. There is a political trick -- accusing the accuser of being unpatriotic -- that is especially heinous. But it fits into our time -- a time of political correctness; of going along with the crowd, as led by leaders with questionable motives.

The point? The contention here is that in playing it safe -- in not daring to offend; in not expressing ourselves freely, whether through words or religious stands -- we might, ironically, be harming our personal security ... our freedom as individuals in a free nation. It is the contention here that if we don't use those freedoms -- of speech and of religion -- we might very well lose them.

*****

Let us revisit the matter of the Indians. They were not all peaceful toward the encroaching Europeans; far from it, in some cases. But then again, they were quite often simply protecting their turf. And let’s not forget that the white man brought a number of diseases over from Europe. Some Indian tribes were decimated by those diseases, and took rather violent exception.

That’s understandable.

In fact, harmony has never been the rule in this country for long, although we have shown a capacity in the past to draw together for the common good, with a common goal in front of us. Think World War II, and think 9/11. But most of the time we behave as anyone might expect a mix of cultures and histories and colors to behave, which is to say rudely. (Back to the Indians for a moment: It is worth pointing out that those who walked this land before us were not always harmonious either -- they warred and killed and pillaged and so on, and couldn’t chalk it up to overcrowding or job depression or the like. They were simply being human -- which, remember, is only a step or two up from the animal.)

The problem, I think, is that we always want more: more things, more power, more respect, more of just about anything that seems desirable. It’s interesting how the human quest for more quite often does not end well. Destroyed in that quest are harmony, respect, fairness and equality.

*****

In this melting pot called America, special interest groups have taken hold -- have wormed into the political system, and become in the process politically correct themselves. And in their wake have gone some basic American traditions, all in the name of correctness.

For example, when did it become a liability to be white? (It’s not? Think Affirmative Action). For that matter, why have females been promoted simply because they’re female? And when did the merit go out of merit raises? Perhaps on future Thanksgivings we should give thanks to Affirmative Action as well as to Equal Opportunity, ACORN, the NAACP, the United Auto Workers, The Teamsters Union, and ... well ... any special iinterest group that holds sway today. (I’m being facetious.)

Will there still be an America as we know it -- a land of the free and a home of the brave -- if we continue traveling the same disturbing avenue? If we hire by quotas and through policies dictated by race and gender; if we conform to the norm; if we celebrate holidays not only with an absence of religious acknowledgement, but with a fear to connect the one to the other?

We have a great country, founded on freedoms that at one time we were willing to fight for, but which now we seemingly are all too willing to give away ... in the name of consumerism and political correctness ... in the name of getting along by going along.

Those Star Wars films -- the first three -- were based in religion, but also in a loyalty among the characters, and in their individuality. We admired Luke and Leia and Han and Obi Wan and Chewie and C3PO and R2D2. They were intrepid.

The Star Wars movies that followed a generation later were, alas, reflective of the changing times. Gone was any sense of religion -- there was some lip service to it, but no underlying belief system -- and any sense of fearlessness. And the thrust of the films lay in politics. We had to watch and try to understand the machinations of politicians in a too-complex galaxy that lacked color and passion -- unless you want to call the disturbing romance between Anakin and Amidala passion. I never got past the fact that she was a young-adult queen (of Naboo) in the first prequel film, The Phantom Menace, while Anakin, her future husband, was just a little boy. There was an Ick Factor there.

But maybe that relationship was reflective of our times, too -- of the breakdown of traditional boundaries fueled by the disappearance of a moral compass that served us well in generations past.

If so, we are all the sadder for its passing ... leaving us to give thanks for the sand in which we hide our heads.

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Previous A. Moralis columns:

The first one is here.
The second one is here.
The third one is here.
The fourth one is here.