November 21, 2011


I am sick of it.

I'm tired and I'm sick, and I am sick of being tired. A couple of months ago, on August 22, to be exact, I predicted the turn from the Arab Spring to the Arab Fall in Egypt. It was an easy prediction to make as I could see the writing on the wall in the arrogant, selfish, entitled, culturally apologetic bullshit that those on my Twitter timeline had tweeted about those who continued to ask for human rights, for women's rights, for any rights at all.

The arrogance of those who hogged their books, flogged their logs, who defended an army against those who had their rights taken away.

Now what would we call that?

Oh, yes, the "moral majority".

I don't even want to talk about what's going on Egypt right now. I want to say this...

You yourself are responsible. You looked away. You went away. You went on vacations and book tours and Daily Show guest appearances. You were too busy patting each other on the shoulder for a job well done. Well... well done, right? And put a fork in it, too!

There were only a handful of people left in those past months who still stood up, and they were maligned, they were spat on, they were ridiculed.

Business as usual.

And not just there. It's everywhere. While we can make much about the bravery of some who are getting beaten the shit out of them right now at various Occupy Wall Street protests, it is too easy to make the movement something heroic.

Don't get me wrong, when it started - and I know some who were there on September 17, and who have shown extraordinary bravery - I was among those who lent my little voice to it, sometimes my sarcasm, but most of all my hope.

That we are able to learn. That maybe we are better.

And then I saw last week's Daily Show report on what the Occupy Wall Street camp in Zucotti Park had turned into. Sure, you may say, Thomas, the Daily Show is a humorous show, and a lot of the things you saw could have been exaggerated.

But thing is? I don't believe it was.

It took two months for them to establish an upper class and a lower class. It took two months for the pseudo-intellectuals to come in, to separate themselves from those who had been there from the first day. Two months for the ugly face - underneath all of the illusion of "equality, fraternity, liberty" - to emerge. Class. We are smarter, they are dumber. We are educated, they are not. We can quote Descartes, they think it's a menu item.

There's a reason I hate college-educated motherfuckers. And yes, I have two degrees myself. So what? The arrogance, the sheer empty-headed sense of entitlement that we all know from bankers, that we know from politicians, it had formed itself, corrupted what was a good idea...

... in less than two months.

I will not lend my tiny voice to them anymore. I shall observe. And I shall no longer get involved in any of these things. I'm tired of feeling this way. I'm tired of wasting my time with it. You may accuse me of being a coward. I don't care. I stood up and spoke up and gave a fuck long before most of those who may call me a coward were involved in anything.

And I stood up and spoke up for others at the risk of my job, of friendships, of everything that by and large is what people call important. I did so because I hoped. That people cared. That it would get better. That, if people only knew, if people were in possession of all the facts, things would change. Things would get better, and if that was the case, then I'd gladly put my job, my friendships, even my life on the line.

I hoped against hope.

That the "moral majority", the "silent majority" would wake up.

I'm done doing that.

They love to sleep. They always have. They always will.

I want to leave something behind, and I want to leave a smile on faces. And so I am out of here. To write. To create. I have an appointment in the Wicked Woods with a little girl named Kylie. I have an appointment with a boy who will grow up trying to be a hero on the rooftops of Brooklyn, 1927. I have an appointment with another girl who tries to get into a very exclusive boarding school.

I am out of here, for the most part.

I will do Twitter updates if and when I deem them important enough.

But not more than that. I have a towel, and I am not afraid to use it.

Goodbye, and thanks for all the fish.