Sorry for the lack of posts for the last several weeks. Thanksgiving, work burnout, and, of course, the constant malaise and destruction of the soul that comes from trying to pay attention to the state of current affairs in America have all bogged down my writing output (and general mood). I will be attempting to return to my regular schedule this week, and will be working on a new Sickos and Cranks for this week—one which will be much more along the comedic lines of the original series of articles. Living takes its toll.
This one does contain some slightly provocative images, so feel free to skip this one if you maybe get squeamish or are too empathetic.
On my drive to Maryland for Thanksgiving and back, I noticed an inordinate amount of roadkill. It’s something I can’t take my eyes off lately. I see it all the time: on the way to work, during a quick jaunt to Taco Bell, and especially on longer trips. It frustrates me to no end, but for more myriad reasons. I’ll explain.
I am devastated, emotionally, by the death of pretty much anything larger than one of those big-ass roaches they got down here in North Carolina. Despite my general attitude of abhorance to all those that oppose me politically and ideologically, I am actually incredibly emotional. And, despite my tweets, death is not something I take lightly.
Simply the name of my topic holds me emotionally captive. Two things I hate are rolled into one: road-kill. The word has not an iota of grace or dignity. Roadkill is something discarded, a casualty of road transit, an unrecognizable residuum of what was once a living creature, smashed and destroyed, blood and viscera tire-tracked across the unforgiving asphalt. If I had not already generally despised roads and auto transit before, seeing this type of common carnage would be a significant factor in my idealization of public transit.
Perhaps this is simply a feature of my brain that no one else has to deal with (?), but as I drive by, I imagine the creature’s last minutes alive, struck by a driver that almost certainly did not stop and check on the life they just destroyed. Occasionally, this fills me with such despair that I am overcome with sorrow and would definitely cry if SSRIs were not actively preventing that.
The concept of roadkill is something we deal with regularly in our society. Externalities that the system creates are then pushed back out into prominence, left for individuals to process, alone. The difference between someone handing 20$ to an unhoused person, feeling guilty and smiling at them, or callously making comments about them is not purely aesthetic, but generally provides the same level of remediation. None of those actions are really alleviating or solving anything. We are reduced to mere observers of reality in front of us because we cannot impact the present, much less the future. Our agency is robbed from us as we can only signify culturally in response.
I hope I did not depress you too much with this rumination. My goal, politically and literally, is to advocate for those beautiful overpasses that you see in Canada that let the animals cross over them. I digress. Hope you all have a wonderful lead-up to the holidays and stay safe in these trying times. I for one will be gaming. As always.
-H