There are a lot of smug, self-righteous folks out there — I hope not but maybe some right here reading this — who like to look down their noses at what they call “sheeple”.
Tellingly, if we are really honest with ourselves, at one time or another and to a greater or lesser degree, we’ve all been sheeple. We’ve gone with the flow. Gone along to get along. Yes, I’m embarrassed to say, I have too.
What am I supposed to take from that?
The hardest thing for me, as a very smart person, with a smart mouth, and a smart aleck attitude, to learn and fully internalize has been this:
Don’t judge.
Of course, there are situations and people all of the time which require a “judgment call”. Should I trust this person? Is that guy over there yelling at the top of his lungs about UFOs dangerous? Is this politician focused on getting my vote telling the truth or blowing smoke?
What I mean by ‘don’t judge’ is simple. Don’t make final declarations which cut you off from any further understanding or appreciation, whether it’s about a person or a circumstance.
Sheeple, for example.
The idiom implies that such people are incapable of thinking for themselves, that they purely are followers. The herd sleeps, they sleep. The herd chews on grass, they chew on grass. The herd runs into the chute to their slaughter, they run into the chute to their slaughter.
There’s some truth to that. But the fact is, we all do this. Anybody out there wearing their pants backwards or answering the phone by reciting Shakespearean couplets? Any of you celebrate your last birthday by playing the drum solo from In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida naked at the bottom of an empty swimming pool?
We all do a lot of things in concert with others. We go to concerts and sing along with the chorus to our favorite songs. By the millions we watch the same TV shows, laugh at the same jokes, cry at the same tragedies, sit like hypnotized lumps taking in the daily news, then say the same things everyone else is saying about the same scandals.
And the undeniable truth is, sometimes it feels great being part of some “community” of people doing the same thing. Is anyone going to tell me that tens of thousands of people packing into a stadium or millions of people glued to the boob tube, watching grown men — very big grown men — battle to cart what looks like a leather melon to the end of a grassy rectangle, that’s asserting individuality and true independent thinking?
Rah rah rah. More beer! Yay!
Don’t judge.
Let me take this to another level.
‘Useful idiot’ is another phrase I’ve been giving serious thought to.
I watched a couple videos the other day, then shared them with a few trusted friends. They were appalled. They’re not speaking to me now.
Okay, what could be so offensive other than a porn movie featuring Trump, his daughter Ivanka, and a freshly disemboweled chimpanzee?
If you think you can handle it, here are two of a whole series of YouTube videos by a minor-genius video blogger by the name of Mark Dice.
Yes, really it’s difficult. I keep telling myself: Don’t judge. Don’t judge.
Okay . . . if I don’t judge, what then? What exactly do I do?
First, some perspective.
Our heralded democratic system is a great leveler. Every person in those videos, the ones who didn’t know why we celebrate the 4th of July and those who don’t know what country Mount Rushmore is in, has the right to vote. And here’s a truly sobering fact . . . EACH OF THEIR VOTES counts exactly the same as EACH OF OUR VOTES.
Hey, it’s right there in the Constitution! One person, one vote. This is democracy in action, folks! Equality in the voting booth is the oxygen of our amazing political system! Ladies and gentlemen and everyone in between, this is SO INCREDIBLY BEAUTIFUL . . . I can’t stop crying!
[ 42 minutes later: It’s taken a while, but I’ve finally gotten a grip and will now continue with my touching essay. ]
Political activists are always asking: how can we get people involved, how can we get them engaged, how can we get them to vote, be a part of the solution instead of a part of the problem? That means everyone! Even the sheeple in the videos deserve to have a voice, right?
I’m simplifying but . . .
“Dude! I got some great reefer! If you vote for Bernie Sanders, man I’ll get you so high, you’ll meet Jim Morrison.”
“Hey, you are one fine-looking babe! Listen, do you mind me asking you something?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
“Did you get a tax refund last year? You know, money back from the government?”
“Not a dime. I should be so lucky.”
“Well, we just found out the government actually owes everyone over $18,000. It has to do with the wars and crazy spending on the military. Do you want hear about it?”
“If you buy me a beer.”
Ridiculous? Implausible?
Actually, here’s the deal. Either we get out there and talk to people or someone else will. And then it will look like . . .
“Let’s make America great again! F*ck the Mexicans. F*ck the Muslims. Kill the Chinese. Kill the Russians.”
Make no mistake about it: USEFUL IDIOTS ARE STILL USEFUL!
To really make you understand and appreciate how important this is, here’s my final thought. Someone in some elevated seat of power, someone with the money and resources to completely shape the future of your world, is thinking that very thing . . .
AND LOOKING AT YOU!
Life In Japan: Mystery Box
Here’s a challenge. Can anyone out there guess what this is?
I always say that here in Japan, almost every day I get some new, interesting surprise.
So?
You’ve probably figured out by now this is a vending machine. But what kind of vending machine? What does it vend?
Admittedly, I haven’t lived in the U.S. for over 14 years.
But I can still say with 100% confidence that a vending machine like this DOES NOT EXIST anywhere in the States. Of course, they have vending machines for many items: candy, chips, cookies, coffee, cigarettes, condoms, crackers, Coke, Pepsi and Sprite.
But not this!
Okay, here’s another photographic clue, a close-up of the photo on the machine below the selection buttons.
Does this help? Are you getting closer?
Whoa! I’m as fidgety as a canary on Monster Zero Ultra. Frankly . . . I can’t stand the suspense any longer.
So here it is. This is a vending machine for . . .
[ Drum roll ]
OYSTERS!
Yes, my patient and dedicated readers . . . fresh oysters is what comes out, after you plop some money in.
Now I’m not an oyster fan. The texture is fine. That slippery, slimy, mucousy vibe is not a problem for me. Nor is the oceanic salinity or organic rawness. I love squid and octopus, sushi and sashimi, seaweed and kelp. I just don’t especially like the flavor of oysters. There was even a world-class oyster bar in Portland, Oregon — my last permanent home in the U.S. — and I never went.
On the other hand, my wife Masumi loves oysters!
How convenient, eh? It’s 3:00 am and wham! she gets an oyster craving. No stores open? Not a problem. Just drive over to the OYSTER VENDING MACHINE!
Unfortunately, this particular one isn’t very convenient. It’s about 2 1/2 hours away in a town called Ayabeyama Bairin, famous at this time of year for the 20,000 plum trees in its Tatsuno Gardens. We went there to enjoy the early-flowering blossoms. Ayabeyama Bairin is right on the coast and fishing is one of the main industries. We discovered the vending machine at a fresh oyster stand as we left the area to head home.
Of course, no way could we leave the area without Masumi stocking up. Here she is in the final stage of buying some of the slimy taste delights.
She ate them all herself.
I was very happy for her!