A parable I wrote awhile back after reading an online essay about decadence in the culture:
The Fam.
Several years ago, there lived a Family so out of touch with reality that even the slightest cultural rough edges bothered them and made them nervous. We'll call them The Fam.
Although The Fam's neighbors could all agree that things had gotten pretty bad, and that each had suffered personally as a result, The Fam didn't think this was enough, and felt more holy burying their heads in the sand. With their clothes, speech, frequent and visible shudders in conversation—along with their lack of ability to understand those around them—they were irrelevant monks. But they were happy. Life was a hug and a sigh.
The Fam liked having a television and reading the papers, because it provided ever-new fodder for fuming about decadence. This pious raving was a ready substitute for true, inner holiness that could face life head-on and still refuse to compromise. A glass of beer and a stogie after dinner were the Enemy, the antagonist in this charming if somnolent existence.
Their strategy of being separate worked, I should mention. Others saw The Fam and knew they were oddballs, not because of an outpouring of Love, Mercy and Goodness but because they looked and talked different than anyone else. Had it been observed, neighbors would notice they even made love differently. It was a secret and shameful thing, certainly not something to relish and explore. It was done as a weekly necessity, like urinating.
Unfortunately, things turned bad for The Fam. Brother hit puberty and public school, and couldn't handle a world his father had ignored and hidden from sight. He made a bad choice and rebelled against not only the ostrich-like tendencies of The Fam, but everything that to his eyes was part of it.
Sis didn't fare much better, except that she did not rebel. She was just ignorant of life around her, and suffered repressed stress and numbness of the mental faculties as a result. The stress was a kind that the previous generation's brief and satisfying intercourse before falling asleep would not remove. She sees her doctor now and gets a prescription for Prozac and Valium—things she never knew about, things that the medical institution seemed to have stamped as Moral for Consumption.
In our story, things will probably continue to get worse, but The Fam will still find a way to survive. We can safely skip past this chapter now—the middle is not much different than the beginning.
We will concern ourselves with The End, because this is where the existence of The Fam turns tragic. Papa and Mama eventually passed on—though not from cancer mind you. Sister can proudly claim that Papa died of what she calls "old age," a very sanctified sounding way of giving up the ghost. Mama broke her neck in the winter.
Papa and Mama, each in their own time, found themselves at judgement. Both were a little nervous, but each scoured their memory and couldn't place their finger on any noticeable evil—they had trouble imagining it let alone carrying it out.
It was their great shock, then, to hear the voice of heaven announce to them:
"Away from me, strangers. Depart from me. I never knew you."
You know how the story goes. The heads of The Fam began to speak about television and radio, fashion, and even went on to highlight their Republican voting history and conservative political beliefs. But in the end, they failed to convince. They were as empty of true righteousness as the neighbors they had slandered for so many years. The end will arrive for the Siblings as well; let’s hope they wake up before then.
The Fam.
Several years ago, there lived a Family so out of touch with reality that even the slightest cultural rough edges bothered them and made them nervous. We'll call them The Fam.
Although The Fam's neighbors could all agree that things had gotten pretty bad, and that each had suffered personally as a result, The Fam didn't think this was enough, and felt more holy burying their heads in the sand. With their clothes, speech, frequent and visible shudders in conversation—along with their lack of ability to understand those around them—they were irrelevant monks. But they were happy. Life was a hug and a sigh.
The Fam liked having a television and reading the papers, because it provided ever-new fodder for fuming about decadence. This pious raving was a ready substitute for true, inner holiness that could face life head-on and still refuse to compromise. A glass of beer and a stogie after dinner were the Enemy, the antagonist in this charming if somnolent existence.
Their strategy of being separate worked, I should mention. Others saw The Fam and knew they were oddballs, not because of an outpouring of Love, Mercy and Goodness but because they looked and talked different than anyone else. Had it been observed, neighbors would notice they even made love differently. It was a secret and shameful thing, certainly not something to relish and explore. It was done as a weekly necessity, like urinating.
Unfortunately, things turned bad for The Fam. Brother hit puberty and public school, and couldn't handle a world his father had ignored and hidden from sight. He made a bad choice and rebelled against not only the ostrich-like tendencies of The Fam, but everything that to his eyes was part of it.
Sis didn't fare much better, except that she did not rebel. She was just ignorant of life around her, and suffered repressed stress and numbness of the mental faculties as a result. The stress was a kind that the previous generation's brief and satisfying intercourse before falling asleep would not remove. She sees her doctor now and gets a prescription for Prozac and Valium—things she never knew about, things that the medical institution seemed to have stamped as Moral for Consumption.
In our story, things will probably continue to get worse, but The Fam will still find a way to survive. We can safely skip past this chapter now—the middle is not much different than the beginning.
We will concern ourselves with The End, because this is where the existence of The Fam turns tragic. Papa and Mama eventually passed on—though not from cancer mind you. Sister can proudly claim that Papa died of what she calls "old age," a very sanctified sounding way of giving up the ghost. Mama broke her neck in the winter.
Papa and Mama, each in their own time, found themselves at judgement. Both were a little nervous, but each scoured their memory and couldn't place their finger on any noticeable evil—they had trouble imagining it let alone carrying it out.
It was their great shock, then, to hear the voice of heaven announce to them:
"Away from me, strangers. Depart from me. I never knew you."
You know how the story goes. The heads of The Fam began to speak about television and radio, fashion, and even went on to highlight their Republican voting history and conservative political beliefs. But in the end, they failed to convince. They were as empty of true righteousness as the neighbors they had slandered for so many years. The end will arrive for the Siblings as well; let’s hope they wake up before then.
