These dreams

On this day in 1886, a substance like charred paper but much heavier, fell over Norway and parts of northern Europe. This is not a photograph of that event.

Franz Peter Schubert celebrated his birthday (1797) on this day, as does Johnny Rotten (1956).

Now, let me bend your ear for a minute.

Imagine a world in which parents teach their children nothing but outrageous untruths. I'm talkin' things that are so untrue as to be unbelievable, like, "Mommy and Daddy are the same person," or "Dogs chase cars because cars are made out of meat." Yeah, I mean things you just know can't be true. And yet the parents keep feeding their kids these lies, in spite of how obviously ridiculous, or apparently untrue, and in spite of the kids' reactions. What will those children be like? Will they be curious and playful, as they should be, or will their curiosity be squashed by being told that what they see is not the truth? What kind of adults will they turn out to be? Monkey see, monkey do, after all; the apple never falls far from the tree. How intelligent might we expect those children to be, when they're trained to ignore sensory data in favor of fantasies and fabrications? How well might we expect them to deal with the unexpected?

For several generations now, we have been living under the impression that the State is our parent: it takes care of us when we're young, it sees to our education, it makes sure we stay safe at night, it even cares for us in our old age. In many cases, politicians on TV -our visible symbols of the State-- are the only mature adults some kids see outside of school. The State is a big ol' Mommy.

And it lies like a big ol' rug.

To be continued.