Can We Come Home Again?

Even if Obama is elected, I still fear the terrible machine.

by Bruce Schimmel

	print	email	reply	rss feed

Published: Sep 3, 2008

By the time you read this, I'll be thousands of miles away, wondering if I should come home again. I expect to be in Umbria, perhaps gazing on a medieval castle and meditating on a glass of golden Orvieto.

In the front of my head, I'll be thinking, "Now, what should I do with those lovely black truffles tonight?" But in the back of my brain, thrumming like a hangover, will be, "Stay, stay, stay away from the U.S.A."

Given these luscious circumstances, one might expect Italy to be tempting. But this is the first time I'm going abroad and bringing the nagging baggage that perhaps I shouldn't return. Maybe it's time for me — like several of my friends — to move on, and out.

Since the age of 13 — I'll be 56 in October — I've been privileged to travel to some pretty beautiful places: to Switzerland, France, Italy, England and Japan. And to some awful ones, too: to Liberia, as its president was murdered and eviscerated; and through the soul-crushing wasteland of the occupied West Bank.

But neither luxury nor lunacy has tempted me to stay away long. Deep inside, I've always been a patriotic guy, whose homesickness infected me the moment I left. And the longer I'd stay, the deeper I'd ache.

But I'm not feeling that now. Not here, not now. Not after years of pointless war, of shredding human rights at home and abroad, of thieving corporations and terror-mongering.

I'm sick at heart that so many crimes have been meekly borne by so many.

For despite the faint hope of an upcoming election, I fear that America has been changed — if you will, fundamentally. What scares me is that something holding the American soul has snapped: our guts.

Somewhere between Iraq and Katrina, Enron and Fannie Mae, too many have lost the capacity to stand up and speak out. We've been scared into quiet submission that has let cynicism spread.

The Smirk has hijacked our sunny smiles. You remember The Smirk, don't you? The rictus of scorn on candidate George W. Bush's face, which he quickly learned to disguise. It's the same grimace seen on the young faces of our designated torturers at Abu Ghraib. It's the cynical grin that's bloomed across the land.

We've become brats with blinders, screwing each other reflexively.

The problem — which needs repeating — is that so much of our economy, our livelihoods and way of life depend on peddling illusions and selling terror. And even if — God willing — Barack Obama is elected, I still fear that the terrible machine that's dismembering our culture cannot be dismantled.

We Americans have always been loudly, brashly and ferociously fond of our freedoms — of our rights, for which we fight.

So nothing so neatly symbolizes our loss of integrity today than what faces Americans at our borders.

Recently The Washington Post discovered that personal information about every returning citizen is now routinely captured at our borders and added to a federal database — to be merged with state and other databases. Whether or not you're on a watch list, stuff about you and me will be held for 15 years.

Even our laptops and iPhones can be seized, prodded and held indefinitely — without rhyme or reasonable suspicion.

Have you heard about this? Have you heard an outcry? Me neither. Because spying on ourselves is now routine and we've lost our capacity to care.

Kind of makes you want to leave and stay away, doesn't it?

Still, despite the temptation, I do expect to return. In a couple of weeks, I will sigh, put down that glass of wine and head back. For when I return, I hope I'll find some sunlight — and if we're lucky, an all-American chorus of righteous outrage.

(bruce@schimmel.com)

Loose Canon will be on hiatus for the next two weeks.

All reader comments are subject to our Terms of Use. By clicking Post Comment, you acknowledge that you have reviewed and agree to these Terms.

Name	please enter your name
Email (will not be published)	please enter a valid email
Comment	please enter a comment
Enter the security code on the right in the textbox below.
Security Code	please enter the code
	Join the City Paper Mailing List

Philadelphia Dreamin'
The Rowengartner Gambit
Letters to the Editor