By: Paul S. Marchand
Every Thanksgiving, we find ourselves called upon to think about what we are thankful for.
This year, I find myself thankful for the Occupy Wall Street Movement and for the increasing social and political awareness of the Ninety-nine Percenters who have, perhaps without even knowing it, found themselves living a kind of reality first prefigured in the late Paddy Chayefsky’s screenplay for the 1976 movie Network.
In one of the most famous scenes in that film, the protagonist, the angry newscaster Howard Beale, loses it, famously exhorting his viewers to “get up out of your chairs, open the window, stick your head out, and yell, and say it: "I'M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!"
In our own time, we have seen life imitate art, as countless middle and working-class Americans, tired of being ripped off in the interests of the wealthiest one percent among us, have dared to say “we’re as mad as hell, and we’re not going to take this anymore!”
I’m thankful that, after eight bitter winters of George W. Bush, when middle and working-class Americans felt there was no one to listen to their cries and lamentations against their spoliation on behalf of the “haves and the have-mores” --- the richest one percent in the land, my brothers and sisters of the Ninety-nine Percent have finally found their voice, and have dared to speak truth to those who have unjustly enriched themselves upon the blood, toil, tears, and sweat of those who seek nothing more than basic fairness for themselves and for their posterity.
I’m thankful that, paradoxically, we have an administration in office which we, the people, believe will listen when we say that it is not right that the playing field should be tilted so powerfully against the Ninety-nine Percent of Americans upon whom the prosperity of this country, and in large measure, the world, depends. That we are frustrated with its slowness to act on our behalf is a sign that we believe it capable of better things than its predecessor. Now it is incumbent on that administration to listen, and listen well, to our voices.
I’m thankful that a critical mass is taking shape which dares to say that it is not right that America in the 21st century should resemble France in the 18th; a nation conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that we are all created equal deserves better than to be governed in the interests of a narrow class which bears a distinct and unsavory resemblance to the worst of the French nobility of the ancien régime.
I’m thankful for a movement that looks like America, a movement composed of all sorts and conditions of human beings; of young and old; of tall and small; of rich and poor; of professionals, the fully employed, the underemployed, and the unemployed; of straight and queer; of PhD’s and high school dropouts, of veterans, vagabonds, and vegans; of people of every faith and no faith at all.
I’m thankful for a movement that is not afraid of civil disobedience; I am grateful for a movement that is not afraid to sit peaceably amid clouds of pepper spray; I am grateful for movement that dares to say “these are our streets; we will occupy them. These are our parks; we will occupy them. This our tundra; we will occupy it. This is our country; we will occupy it.”
I’m thankful that we are reclaiming our noble revolutionary heritage, that we are having once again a conversation about liberty, about fairness, and about fundamental decency.
If we are to be able to speak in good faith of America as a land of opportunity, we dare not allow ourselves the feckless luxury of an unsustainable social order in which those who have “arrived” are able to pull up behind them the ladder of social mobility and success upon which others rely to better themselves and their children.
I think it is safe to say that we of the Ninety-nine Percent do not resent the success of those who have made it, what we resent is the efforts of far too many in America’s one percent to prevent anyone else from making it, too.
So, on this Thanksgiving day, I give thanks to God Who in every generation calls forth prophets and witnesses. I also give thanks for those prophets and witnesses who in our own time are those voices crying in the wilderness on behalf of all who have been voiceless, abused, and ground down.
A single voice, crying in the wilderness, can change the world. By God’s good grace, we may dare to hope that many voices crying in cities and towns and villages all over this land, may yet change our world in our time for the better, for ourselves and for all who will come after us. Amen.
-xxx-
Paul S. Marchand is an attorney who lives and works in Cathedral City, California. The views expressed herein are his own.
Every Thanksgiving, we find ourselves called upon to think about what we are thankful for.
This year, I find myself thankful for the Occupy Wall Street Movement and for the increasing social and political awareness of the Ninety-nine Percenters who have, perhaps without even knowing it, found themselves living a kind of reality first prefigured in the late Paddy Chayefsky’s screenplay for the 1976 movie Network.
In one of the most famous scenes in that film, the protagonist, the angry newscaster Howard Beale, loses it, famously exhorting his viewers to “get up out of your chairs, open the window, stick your head out, and yell, and say it: "I'M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!"
In our own time, we have seen life imitate art, as countless middle and working-class Americans, tired of being ripped off in the interests of the wealthiest one percent among us, have dared to say “we’re as mad as hell, and we’re not going to take this anymore!”
I’m thankful that, after eight bitter winters of George W. Bush, when middle and working-class Americans felt there was no one to listen to their cries and lamentations against their spoliation on behalf of the “haves and the have-mores” --- the richest one percent in the land, my brothers and sisters of the Ninety-nine Percent have finally found their voice, and have dared to speak truth to those who have unjustly enriched themselves upon the blood, toil, tears, and sweat of those who seek nothing more than basic fairness for themselves and for their posterity.
I’m thankful that, paradoxically, we have an administration in office which we, the people, believe will listen when we say that it is not right that the playing field should be tilted so powerfully against the Ninety-nine Percent of Americans upon whom the prosperity of this country, and in large measure, the world, depends. That we are frustrated with its slowness to act on our behalf is a sign that we believe it capable of better things than its predecessor. Now it is incumbent on that administration to listen, and listen well, to our voices.
I’m thankful that a critical mass is taking shape which dares to say that it is not right that America in the 21st century should resemble France in the 18th; a nation conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that we are all created equal deserves better than to be governed in the interests of a narrow class which bears a distinct and unsavory resemblance to the worst of the French nobility of the ancien régime.
I’m thankful for a movement that looks like America, a movement composed of all sorts and conditions of human beings; of young and old; of tall and small; of rich and poor; of professionals, the fully employed, the underemployed, and the unemployed; of straight and queer; of PhD’s and high school dropouts, of veterans, vagabonds, and vegans; of people of every faith and no faith at all.
I’m thankful for a movement that is not afraid of civil disobedience; I am grateful for a movement that is not afraid to sit peaceably amid clouds of pepper spray; I am grateful for movement that dares to say “these are our streets; we will occupy them. These are our parks; we will occupy them. This our tundra; we will occupy it. This is our country; we will occupy it.”
I’m thankful that we are reclaiming our noble revolutionary heritage, that we are having once again a conversation about liberty, about fairness, and about fundamental decency.
If we are to be able to speak in good faith of America as a land of opportunity, we dare not allow ourselves the feckless luxury of an unsustainable social order in which those who have “arrived” are able to pull up behind them the ladder of social mobility and success upon which others rely to better themselves and their children.
I think it is safe to say that we of the Ninety-nine Percent do not resent the success of those who have made it, what we resent is the efforts of far too many in America’s one percent to prevent anyone else from making it, too.
So, on this Thanksgiving day, I give thanks to God Who in every generation calls forth prophets and witnesses. I also give thanks for those prophets and witnesses who in our own time are those voices crying in the wilderness on behalf of all who have been voiceless, abused, and ground down.
A single voice, crying in the wilderness, can change the world. By God’s good grace, we may dare to hope that many voices crying in cities and towns and villages all over this land, may yet change our world in our time for the better, for ourselves and for all who will come after us. Amen.
-xxx-
Paul S. Marchand is an attorney who lives and works in Cathedral City, California. The views expressed herein are his own.
