Severe Lack of Hope Here

Last night was literally eleven straight hours of distraction.

I deliberately turned down seeing a theatre production with friends—which I'm glad I did, since it turned out to be three hours, instead of the assumed one—because I have homework to do.

And yet, here I am, a day later, without having done a word of it.

But that's not what I'm here to talk about. What I oh-so loudly realized last night is that I have no hope left in this world. I knew I had no faith. But I apparently have no hope either. (And apparently, they're two different things.)

I realized this when I came across this book recommendation on my Goodreads account:

And my initial response was: "If it has romance, sure. I can't do the non-hope stuff. I need a some hope to read anything."

Then I realized what I'd said and started out on a rampage.

So I have no hope. Great.

I guess I should've known that. It really doesn't surprise me. I've listened to enough stupid ideas from people around me to know the world is doomed. We are in a downward spiral of broken dreams.

I've copied comedian Kathleen Madigan's bit on hope—or rather, lack-there-of:

My sister was on board with Obama, but she's ten years younger than me. She's much less cynical. "Oh, Kathleen, he's all about hope and change, and change and hope, and hope and change. Whole thing's going to change. Don't you have any hope left, for Christ's sake?"

I'm like, "Let me check for a minute—Uh, no." No. I gave up hope for this country officially when we took the pillows out of coach on American Airlines, okay? If we can no longer afford a five-cent foam piece of shit so my neck doesn't break on a six-hour flight, we suck. It is over. Just go get your Rosetta Stone and learn a little Chinese before they get here....

No, I don't have any hope. I didn't even have that much hope when I was young, though. I'm always amazed at how young people get—they're all into stuff. Like, literally, Lou and I worked in Canada somewhere, and I'm walked down the street in Vancouver, Canada, and in one hand, I had a lit cigarette, and in the other hand, I had a hotdog. And this twenty-something girl leaps out of an alley with a Green Peace folder, and she goes, "Excuse me, ma'am. Can I talk to you about the future?"

You better hurry up. I could have a stroke by the time you're done talking. I'm like, "Honey, I clearly don't give a shit about myself. What are the odds I care about what's in your folder?"

I would like to have hope. Even my religion, I'm out of hope. I was raised Catholic. Really. This Pope, he's ignoring everything. My mom still has hope about it. "Well, maybe this whole scandal will make things change for the better."

"Well, if there's one thing the Catholic church is not hip on, Mom, it would be change. The last Pope, before he died, made a special trip to Russia to apologize to the Greek Orthodox church for things we did in the year 1204. 1204! That's the file they're on, Mom."

So, needless to say, that's a hilarious version of it, but there you go. Obama and Green Peace folders and Catholicism aside, Kathleen Madigan and I are both completely out of hope for this world. It's depressing. And a wee bit pathetic, but I really don't.

Now, don't get me wrong, I am all for aiming to change for the better and I'll encourage it all the way to the moon and back, but I am completely out of hope about it. I have absolutely no faith that this world will even get itself in order enough not to faceplant at the end of its days. No hope. None.

And before anyone goes off about how Kathleen Madigan is only talking about the U.S. while I'm saying the entire planet, here's another portion from that same album:

I went to Iraq and Afghanistan to entertain the troops....We went to Afghanistan first. Wow. What a shithole. That did not even meet my low expectations. I was like, "What a dump!"

And when people are like, "How much money will it take to fix Afghanistan?", I'm like, I don't know. I saw it. From what I saw, run this question through your mind:

"How much money would it cost to fix the moon?"

Now, whatever number just shot through your head, you are correct.

At the risk of starting a rampage from any military person out there, I think war is stupid. The fact that people on this Earth cannot work out their issues without running someone through with metal balls—We have a problem. Just imagine how much better this world would be if people just got over their shit?

And I'm not going to lie. I've had problems with people that I didn't handle in the best of ways, but I also didn't fill them full with lead. I'm not saying I have a better alternative, but I believe with all my heart and soul that there is a better way to deal with something than blowing them sky-high.

Talk it out. Forget about it and move on. I really don't care which. Just pick one and get over it. I am so sick about hearing the count of deaths per day. I don't want to know that. Ignorance is bliss. I'd like to stay that way. Thank you.

And the fact that I have to say that just to avoid the topic of war is disgusting. We call this peace? What about this is peaceful? Someone explain that to me, because I really don't get it.

So, no. I have no hope. If two people can't solve a problem without heavy artillery, it is over!

                             — KGratiaM

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All italic chunks are material copied directly from Kathleen Madigan's album, "Gone Madigan". None of it is mine—trust me, I'm not that funny—and I take no claim to it. If you aren't aware of her shows, look her up. She is hilarious!