No goddamned sense

Most of life doesn't make any goddamned sense, is the truth.

Or rather it could, but we make so little sense in how we treat one another that life really ends up making no goddamned sense.

I suppose one day my children or my grandchildren will live in a world where it makes more sense, just barely, and where people treat one another better, hopefully a lot better than we treat one another today.

But too much of life, today, is pretty damned unbearable waiting for that day. I suppose that's always been true. It's just kind of funny that we are always so perpetually convinced that we have reached the pinnacle of human decency and nothing else could ever be better.

It'd be nice if we could learn from such folly. But, alas, our hubris always outruns our wisdom. And each generation seems so damned self-satisfied with itself to ever think otherwise. No matter how much any generation fucks the world up, there is never a shortage of pats it is want to give itself on the back for how its handled everything.

That could change. But only if we learn to treat one another better and be more thoughtful about our choices; to take our liberal values more seriously.

In the meantime, in every generation, life makes no goddamned sense. At least to younger generations who have to put up with the bluster of their parents and to older generations who have to put up with the nerve of their children. And to future generations who wonder at the foolishness of mistakes that they no longer have an interest in defending.

Perhaps that is as a mistake we can take a moment to avoid in the future. If only to be remembered better for the wisdom to do so. Or at least to not be thought the jackasses that we probably deserve to be remembered as in the meantime.