The normalization of gloom, doom, demoralization, and despair

The “Scream” of despair and horror has become ubiquitous

I know for a fact that I am not alone in feeling a frequently intense sensation of consternation, if not panic, about the current state of things in the world, particularly the "Western" world, and even more particularly the United States of America (the nation of my birth, and the country in which I have lived for the entirety of my fairly long-lived life).

Indeed, there is a very real, even palpable apprehension about how things stand generally today, and even greater concern about "where things are headed." Speaking for myself (and thus, admittedly, subjectively), for the past half-century in which I have dwelt in this body and walked (or in the beginning, crawled) on this earth, I can honestly say that, when I apply personal recollection, I find that there has never been a time when things have seemed worse than they do now.

Indeed, try as I may, I cannot recall a point in the past, at least not during the interval of years which comprise my lifetime, when there seemed to be such a conspicuous dearth of hope for the future, nor such an intractable state of despair with the present.

Nor, I think the reader will agree, am I alone in this sentiment. It seems, rather, to be quite widespread; even in a polity as bitterly divided as ours, there is at least common ground on this notion: "things are falling apart, the center cannot hold."

“Burning burning burning burning” —TS Eliot, “The Wasteland”

And there are other notable aspects to the widespread sentiment concerning the collective disquietude over both the current state of things and the prospect of "where things are headed." In the past, if someone complained that the present times showed a marked decline over the "good old days," the malcontent would invariably be checked by another commentator with a more optimistic perspective on present trends. "Come now," such a one would soothingly say, "what you are bemoaning as a decline is in fact little more than an evolution... things have changed, not all for the best, but certainly not all for the worse, for it is the state of culture itself forever to be in flux."

Or, to put things more simply: as one singer/songwriter/pseudo-philosopher pronounced nearly forty years ago: "The good ol' days weren't always good, and tomorrow ain't as a bad as it seems." Things are undeniably different now, the optimist would admit to the malcontent, but "different" isn't synonymous with "symptomatic of decline."

And, the optimist would further aver, despite what may seem to be massive division amongst the populace on the subject of first principles, morals, convictions, and general perspectives, in fact deep down people will still rally together during times of crisis, and, when push comes to shove, will behave as if these differences of belief were matters of no importance.

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The cultural optimist had his biggest "I told you so" moment over two decades ago, on September 11, 2001. On that day, and for weeks, even months, afterwards, there was indeed a feeling of remarkable solidarity amongst Americans. If this sense of unity dissipated not long afterwards, the fact that it happened still had a bracing effect on the collective psyche, which would reverberate for years afterwards: “Remember that time when we all came together, in spite of our differences!”

However, things have soured to such an extent that by now it is plainly impossible to fathom a similarly harmonious response to any event which savors of tragedy, disaster, or national crisis. Were "9/11" (at least as it was first understood to be, before doubt set in concerning the "official story"), or something similar, to happen again, few believe that it would induce the sort of “unity vibe” that was yielded by the original "9/11."

Indeed, today, in late 2023, that once ubiquitous soothing-voiced cultural optimist seems to have utterly deserted us; in fact, we haven’t heard from him for a while.

Even those whom one would think would be happy with the current state of things-- that is, the promoters of such insane abominations as "drag queen story hour" and "gender reassignment surgery" for young children, notions which incredibly enough have gained mainstream acceptability in some circles-- are expressing extreme unhappiness with the both the "current state of things," and with their understanding of "where things are headed." That is to say, even the third-wave feminists, the advocates of "transing" children, and those notorious "mostly peaceful" anti-white activists are themselves seized with a sense of doom.

Whether the latter phenomenon is attributable to a delusion that their ideologies are under attack, when in fact they are being relentlessly promoted in high places, or whether it is due to some inner intimation that their pet causes are violative of nature and thus fated to failure, isn't so much my concern here. The point is the nearly complete obliteration of optimism and the almost complete, across-the-board conviction of the surety of societal collapse looming on the horizon.

Amongst conservatives, the sense of doom is perhaps the most palpable. We can see that even appeals to patriotism, a sentiment typically promoted if not fetishized by the right, are on the wane. A few months before his death, conservative icon Rush Limbaugh openly mused that secession may be necessary in the near future; more recently, in his populist anthem "Rich Men North of Richmond," loved and lauded by red-state stalwarts, overnight superstar Oliver Anthony openly cursed the United State: "Young men are puttin' themselves six feet in the ground/Cuz all this damn country does it keep on kickin' them down."

We are, indeed, awash in doom right now, in the throes of seemingly intractable despair. It may be the one sentiment which could be said to unite us.

The compete disappearance of optimism represents a radical shift from even a short time ago, although the momentum has arguably been moving in this general direction for over three decades (a significant point to which I shall return). Around 2015, there occurred a violent seismic eruption, a psychic upheaval which has continued unabated to this very day.

I myself can recall a time, not too long ago, when glancing at newspaper headlines or scrolling through news sites could be done without incurring a jolt of stress and a rush of anxiety. I remember when mainstream news sources at least made a pretense, however disingenuously, of striving for objectivity and fairness, when corporations weren't constantly vomiting forth declarations of condemnation for half of the nation's population whilst unabashedly promoting "woke" agitprop that alienates the vast majority of their customer base, etc.

But if the present era of discombobulating and discomfiting tumult, hysteria, and escalating polarization we have suffered through since 2015, an era of crisis which only seems to grow more frightfully intense as each year gives way to the next, giving one the impression of being pulled into an ever-more destructive vortex, the truth is that we began on this trajectory over thirty years ago, at the precise moment the Soviet Union fell and the Cold War officially ended.

(to be continued)

Andy Nowicki is the author of several books, most recently The Insurrectionist and Muze. Visit his YouTube channel.