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The Stuttering of the Kids
In the early 1980s there was a lot of idiocy about the imminent arrival of the year 1984 and what it would mean for our society. A lot of brain donors were doing their damnedest to revise history by making Orwell's '1984' not be about Left totalitarianism (despite that Orwell himself said that's what it was about) but about corporate fascism or some such nonsense.
So, I wrote (actually in 1983, but I chose to date it in 1984 for obvious reasons) the ten-piece suite, 'The Stuttering of the Kids,' the title coming from a verse in a Pete Townshend song for reasons having nothing to do with the substance of either work.
As a matter of side interest, the brick wall background seen on this and many another page on my site, was originally conceived as a backdrop for the slogan sign, also seen incorporated into the finale, which I meant to serve as a front cover.
January 1984
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Grandiloquy (a Prologue)
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Sun 1 Jan
© 1984 Kevin McGehee
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This piece is done in the voice of a seemingly disinterested but somewhat mischievous narrator who already knows which way things are going. He’ll reappear in subsequent pieces dropping hints.
To question or not to question…
That is the question!
Whether it’s nobler in the alleged mind
To suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous
Fortitude,
Or to lay thy will down to peaceful slumber…
To sleep—
Perchance to dream…
Of a world whose simplicity beckons to those
Who would complicate it.
Gleefully would they inflict upon its blessed realm
The platitudes of their ideal…
Uncaring of consequence.
But is that not what dreams are for,
The guiltless interference of imagination upon the pristine
Shores of fantasy?
Whose dream are we in now?
Mine?
Yours?
Your brother’s…?
Ah, but that is one question we dare not…
Just yet…
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Seek
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Sun 1 Jan
© 1984 Kevin McGehee
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The voice here is perhaps a younger, or merely less jaded, counterpart to the narrator, certainly someone who doesn’t already know where things are headed—but is pretty sure something’s going wrong.
Let us seek the spirit eternal
We seek answers for our brood
I point out solutions unquestioned
Could it be we’re getting screwed?
We have no time for philosophy
Survival is teetering to fall
How can idealism matter
If there is no future at all?
We’ve revered the conventional “wisdom”
We’ve become the enemy of life!
Yet to thus proclaim our ignorance
Could well doom us to needless strife
Is it any wonder the people are muttering
When we’ve made a mere fantasy of truth?
Who can blame the kids for stuttering
Now that they’ve been robbed of their youth?
We shouldn’t wonder that demagogues grow stronger
When the “rational” ones only lie!
Can you blame people for choosing a “warmonger”
If it’s certain that all shall die?
I revile this “conventional” falsehood!
We’ve no need to make ourselves slaves!
Is this the home of the naïve?
Is this how Avatar behaves?
We have no use for fallacy
The time may well be nigh
When none of this will matter
Is there no one left who will try?
Is it any wonder we’re growing tired
Of this loud and mindless “humanity”?
Can you blame us for not wanting to be mired
In an explosive morass of insanity?
Isn’t it shameful what’s happened to reason
It died without being missed!
What kind of diabolical treason
Brought on such a tragedy as this?
Let us summon the mind unshackled
And seek understanding of now
For as I look at the turmoil around us
I’m wondering not why—but how?
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Fantasies
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Sun 1 Jan
© 1984 Kevin McGehee
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Clearly a villain here, with a chorus of potential enforcers in the background.
I had a dream one morning
That reality was open to improvement
That not only could one steer to a chosen future
One could change the past
Disguise the present
One with such power would be
As a God
One would not only be his own brother’s keeper
But could be Everyone’s Brother’s Keeper
Two-four, four-four…
I had a thought one afternoon
That any person’s life could be altered
For posterity
Unwanted traits could be suppressed
Desirable ones substituted
Join the Justice Corps…
I had an idea one evening
Of how easy it could be
I could repeat big lies—whoppers!
A tried-and-true method
Or I could just let the real truth fade
And insert my new and improved version in its stead
Count off, three-four…
I had a dream one morning
That left is right
And right is wrong
But I’m no villain
So it can’t be “double-think”
Left, right, left…
I had a dream
You are having a nightmare
Your Brother’s Keeper is looking out for you
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Graffiti
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Sun 1 Jan
© 1984 Kevin McGehee
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A cacophony of voices! Two new ones, one of which belongs to “the kids,” being led by the villain and his supporters. The other belongs to the intellectual elite among the villain’s supporters.
I summon the mind eclectic
I seek the point of no return
I point out time unshackled
We’ve so much yet to learn
The author who drew the social wild card…
The readers who thought they knew right from—
Left…?
The characters who marched to a generic drumbeat…
Two-four…
Four-four…
Left, right, left…
“Hell, no! We won’t glow!”
“U.S. out of El Salvador!”
“Beat the commies!”
“Save the whales!”
Forward—
MARCH!!!
Nothing is simple enough for us
The truth obstructs us like a wall
Other elites might have power lust
We only want what’s best for all
Two-four, four-four,
What are we really fighting for?
Upbeat, downbeat,
Left, right, left!
We’ll take care of everyone—and his brother!
(Company, LOAD—)
(Ready—)
(Aim—)
(FIRE!!!)
“Pro-life!” “Pro-choice!”
We must all speak with one voice!
“Disco rules!”
“Disco sucks!”
Forward—
MARCH!!!
We have no time for ideology
Yet our minds refuse to succumb
How can reality matter
When it only leaves us numb?
Two-four,
Four-four,
Left, right, left…
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Care of You
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Sun 1 Jan
© 1984 Kevin McGehee
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The intellectual elite of Our Brother’s Keeper’s supporters explain—or try to explain, over the interruptions of our narrator—the philosophical basis of their leader’s rule.
I feel a disintegration
Am I helpless
Or is it just my imagination?
Do not be flattered by this fantasy they call truth
Time is against us
No one can influence the sublime forces of fate
We are the high priests of helplessness
Join our huge following and let us take
Care of you
The color of the world is chaos
Through us you might perceive it
Our ideas are the right ideas
Though at first you may find it hard to believe
Cosmetic solutions really can solve
Deep, serious problems such as
Poverty, hunger, bigotry and worst of all
This cruel myth of “self-reliance”
We are the grand inquisitors of charity
Follow us and let us take
Care of you
By our doctrines are successes made
Opposition comes only from the hateful
If they live comfortably it is through our largesse—
Then I suppose they’re just being ungrateful?
We are the ministers of true compassion
Trust in us and let us take—
Advantage
—Care of you
Two-four
Four-four
Left, right, left
Sacrilege is the province of fools
They are insensitive, let’s make them resign!
None can escape our self-righteous vengeance—
That’ll teach ‘em for speaking their minds!
Do not be deceived by the lies of the power elite
They are against us
Only through us can you beat back the forces of hate
We are the high priests of helplessness
Join our popular cult and let us take—
Control
—Care of you
The flavor of your words is treason!!
You would cruelly lay this burden on our helpless wards
Your ideas are the wrong ideas
Yet you brazenly malign us good and selfless
The surface is the only worthy playing board
And going beyond it only serves to confuse
The poor, hungry and disenfranchised but worst of all
It confuses US!
We are the paragons of tolerance
Yet you force us to try to take
Care of YOU
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Enforcement
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Sun 1 Jan
© 1984 Kevin McGehee
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Good beat, easy to dance to, just the sort of tune OBK wants the kids to hear.
Two-four, four-four
No more Cold War
Upbeat, downbeat
Left, right, repeat
Two-four, four-four
What do you stand for?
Upbeat, downbeat
Left, right, left
Listen up, you mule-brained masses
We’re the goon squad come to town!
You will call us the Conscience Patrol
If you blow it we’ll slap you down
We’ve been commissioned by Your Brother’s Keeper
To see that you all conform
No more Old Glory or Mom’s apple pie
The priests have demanded a brand new norm
Now don’t you dare question the established brand
Of compassion legislated for today
Abolish the “haves” and enslave the “have-nots”
The new and perfect way
Your Brother’s Keeper is very concerned
You might decide these ideas stink
But when you put your hand in the goo that used to be your face
You’ll know exactly what you’re to think
Two-four, four-four
We’ll be on guard at your door
Upbeat, downbeat
As you’re walking down the street
Two-four, four-four
Disagreement leads to war
Upbeat, downbeat
Left, right, left
Now don’t forget, you ignorant scum
The Conscience Patrol is here!
We won’t bother with uniforms
So the size of our ranks won’t be clear
Don’t get the idea the laws apply to us
We’ll work you over all we want!
We’ll stir up the Kids if you don’t toe the line
And you can guess who’ll bear the brunt
Two-four, four-four
The Conscience Patrol is at your door
Upbeat, downbeat
Your Brother’s Keeper will not retreat!
Two-four, four-four
It’s not your own mind anymore
Upbeat, downbeat
Left, right, left
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Across the Grain
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Sun 1 Jan
© 1984 Kevin McGehee
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Our hero finally figures it out. But is it too late?
Two-four, four-four
Ask your questions nevermore
Upbeat, downbeat
Left, right, left…
It isn’t easy cutting across the grain
When the heads of my peers are filled with stone
It’s not easy trying to use my brain
When some contend it’s not my own
Do my thoughts belong to me or to
Some malevolent super-combine?
It seems there’s nothing I can do
But put it right out of my mind.
Yet still I’m cutting across the grain
Why am I always so different?
Why am I unable to conform?
How can I be independent
Of a “nonconformist” norm?
I’m tired of cutting across the grain
It’s just a pain…
Because there’s no hope for change
Before I go insane
From trying to cut across the grain
Keep time, one-two
We are wiser men than you
Upbeat, downbeat
Left, right, left…
It isn’t easy trying to assimilate
To their simplistic, guilt-ridden fear
It’s so hard trying to eliminate
This suspicion that they’re insincere
Are they really trying to do what’s right
Or are they fighting some private war?
No one can enjoy the victims’ plight
But there must be something more
Again I’m cutting across the grain
Why can’t I settle down,
Stop questioning what I’m told?
So many believe what they say
But still it leaves me cold
I keep on cutting across the grain
Is it in vain?
It begins to look like all I can gain
Is everyone’s disdain
Because I’m cutting across the grain
Two-four, four-four
We’re too mighty to ignore
Upbeat, downbeat
Left, right, repeat:
Two-four, four-four
Hear us pounding at your door
We won’t retreat
Left, right, left…
If you tell me I’m a dupe
I might believe you
How can I be sure?
So many people can’t be wrong
Thus the cult teaches us
But when dissent beseeches us
To stand clear
We must stand up
Unafraid to cut
Across the grain
Sing high, sing low
We will never let you go
Sing loud, sing soft
Left, right, left…
It isn’t easy cutting across the grain
When the heads of our peers are filled with trash
It can’t be easy trying to use our brains
When such a course seems comparatively brash
But do our thoughts belong to us or to
A loud and mindless mob?
It seems the only thing we can do
Is let our minds do their job
And go on cutting across the grain
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Best of Intentions
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Sun 1 Jan
© 1984 Kevin McGehee
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If they have good intentions, that makes them the good guys, so any bad results are beside the point. And if the other side has less-than-pure intentions, that makes them the bad guys, so the fact their solutions actually work is likewise beside the point.
OBK and his priests seem to be winning.
Beware of geocidal superwar
The death of life in a flash
We must resist anything that might result
In our cozy homes turning to ash
Let us disarm in meek surrender
Not force our children someday to take sides
We should live up to our highest moral standards
Sell their souls to preserve our hides
This is the gospel according to us
The priests who have counseled you so well
As sheep in good standing in our helplessness cult
You have learned much
Seeking the pinnacle of our brand of perfection
You must have the best of intentions
Beware of charismatic demagogues
(But only those who question our decrees)
We must oust these slinking, self-serving toads
Lest they bring our crusade to its knees
Let us distrust all whom they had enlisted
And befriend with glee their foes
We’ll force through those initiatives they have resisted
And denounce their patriotic pose
This is salvation according to us
The priests who have sealed you in your shell
We’re paving the way to a perfect unity
We’ve accomplished much
Building our temple of duplicitous conventions
We have (of course) the best of intentions
You know we always strive to make things better for you
If you don’t believe, maybe your mind is not allowing you to
We can fix that…
Beware of those with great ideas
They have been thinking too much
We must eradicate this terrible disease
It can be spread with the merest touch
Let us ostracize these heretic swine
Not leave them to contaminate us
We must keep pure the minds of all
Thinking is too dangerous
This is the basic law according to us
The priests who have sold you into hell
We’re bringing the future we’ve taught you to fear
You’ve sacrificed much
Letting us consecrate our benevolent pretensions
But we had the best of intentions
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The Faceless Dead
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Sun 1 Jan
© 1984 Kevin McGehee
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Our narrator has seen this before. His mischievous façade slips.
Cold war or hot war?
Those dead today don’t care
We cannot even face the future
Tomorrow’s dead won’t dare
A nihilistic fog of shame
Pollutes the morning air
While a corps of the faceless dead march toward the night
In the name of Our Brother’s Keeper
They queue to the ovens
Authority or illusion
Or just a tyrant’s dream?
Is our habit of forced compassion
What their lies would make it seem?
Can humanity still be equal
When apathy reigns supreme
And they kill our kids with “kindness” born of spite?
By order of Our Brother’s Reaper
They queue to the ovens
They follow the priests
Soon the faceless dead will stutter no more
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The Stuttering of the Kids (a Finale)
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Sun 1 Jan
© 1984 Kevin McGehee
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And that’s the end.
Um, take that in whatever way you think best.
We must summon the unfulfilled spirit
We’ve reached the point of no return
We face upheaval in all directions
Many choices will see us burn
TRUTH IS FANTASY
ORDER IS CHAOS
FREEDOM IS SLAVERY
OPPRESSION IS JUSTICE | ...the next best thing to a plausible lie
...we must choose carefully who will die
...democracy can mean anything at all
...the price to avert society’s fall |
The characters who marched to an ambiguous drumbeat
Collapsed and died without trying to fight
When Our Brother’s Keeper sought to control our thoughts
It was somehow accepted that he had the right
“Sow only harmony, peace you will reap…”
He ignored one crucial truth: Talk is cheap!
Why is everyone angry, you ask?
We’ve been denied the right to choose
And you seek to make us more confused
Everywhere we turn we find only lies
Slogans drown our frustrated cries
How can you ignore the stuttering of the kids…?
Each passing day we see our future
Constantly slipping astray
The questions cannot go away
How much longer can we go on believing
What the priests are achieving
Is worth the pain?
How much longer can we go on denying
Our spirit is dying
And there’s nothing to gain?
Two-four
Four-four
Left, right, left…
Why are we fed up, you ask?
We’ve been deceived and trampled upon
Before we knew it our future was gone
The questions cannot go away
The leaders who rearrange our language
Told us it’s our duty to be irresponsible
When the priests decreed we should all be helpless
Somehow we believed such a thing was possible
“Do not trouble yourselves,
these problems are much too deep…”
Would that we’d realized sooner: Talk is cheap!
Who can go on ignoring the stuttering of the kids?
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