Forgive me for this rant. Sitting by the wood burning stove with the dogs in the old hog house for several hours is not something I recommend—actually, I never recommend anything. No future in recommendations.
My point is this. It is discouraging, to say the least, to be so alienated from the culture of one’s own country that one begins to wonder whether everyone else is insane or you yourself are insane. I contemplated the choice of adjective for this culture we enjoy in the United States of America for some time. The first term that occurred to me was “vapid.” That term was somewhat unsatisfying, Then I hit on the term “vacuous.” “Vacuous” felt right. I felt a sense of accomplishment having come up with “vacuous.” This is a vacuous culture.
Should you feel this also, then there is no need for me to detail the problem.
What is the proper response to a feeling of such profound alienation from one’s own culture—for lack of a better term? Hide. Hide from it. That is the only solution I can suggest. There is no future, for example, in imagining a more satisfying culture.
Perhaps the best thing would be for the resident artist to come home from her art show two states over and cheer me, which I understand she will be doing tomorrow.