The following is the opinion and analysis of the writer:
Gerald Farrington
Destination is destiny. Destination is “diversity”. What is the meaning of “accepted diversity” by most people who come to America? In a word, “tolerance” of difference, not acceptance of difference as truth. Where is “diversity” in our founding documents? It’s in the promise in the Declaration of Independence to all who “would come” into the embrace of the Statue of Liberty.
“Human equality,” not equality of belief, is the basic idea of America. Human equality is the belief in the “unity” of “diversity”. “Diversity” itself is planet Earth, and America is its beating heart.
This is my answer to Jeffrey McConnell in his recent op-ed piece in the Daily Star. This is my respectful reply. It is ironic that the very “diversity” he decries (the very first item in his list of things he doesn’t like about those he criticizes) is that he seems to think “diversity” is antagonistic to “unity”. Of course, any principle, even “diversity,” is not “tolerance” of others if it misused by some as a bludgeon against others with different views, but America’s diversity makes it the greatest latitudinarian culture in human history.
“Diversity of opinion” is the guiding principle of the Opinion Section of the Daily Star. The Star welcomes all who would “opine” with tolerance of others.
I awoke from tortured sleep, as I often do nowadays, in the world according to Trump, and realized that the globe of planet earth haunting me in my dreams (“night work”, I call it) over-sizes America. The globe zooms larger and larger into America’s total dominance of the globe.
Then, zooming back to normal, I see a map with lines and with a hand drawing lines from Spain, Portugal, and Italy to parts of North America. Then the hand draws lines from the British Isles and The Netherlands to America, and then the hand draws lines from Portugal, the Netherlands, and the British Isles to the coast of West Africa, and then the hand draws lines from West Africa to America. Destination is destiny.
Then I see another map. The hand moves and then accelerates, wildly and rapidly drawing lines from everywhere on planet Earth to America. The lines resemble flight maps from multiple airlines from all over the globe, all drawn to a single destination — America. The lines are multi-colored, all of the colors of the rainbow. The lines criss-cross so many times they blur into indistinct as they reach America. Destination is destiny.
From the hand, I hear a voice. First, a whisper and then thunderous, a resonating voice deep — from a deep ponderous place. Then the voice breaks up into parts, zooming out and zooming in — into many languages overlapping. The dream is filled with overlapping indistinct shapes and colors. Then there are odors and tastes — sweet, sour, acidic, pungent, salty. All overlapping into indistinct — new and indescribably flavorful.
It feels good, promising, calming, relaxing, peaceful, permeating.
My hypnogogic sleep returns as a gigantic wheel with spokes, too many to count. The center, the hub, is America. The spokes are straight and unbroken. The center is hardened metal. The spokes are hand-crafted and wooden. The wheel, of course, is perfectly cylindrical, even spherical, like planet Earth. Wheels, of course, are hand-crafted and designed for movement. That is its purpose, its mission. Destination is destiny.
The hub appears strong but shows some signs of some rust. Some of the spokes appear weakened with signs of mildew but no rot—and none are broken.
Then the globe with an oversized America begins to fade. Wheels and lines begin to fade and then — darkness. But now there is a sound, a rhythmic sound — a steady, faint, indistinct sound at first. A beating sound like a single steady beat on a drum. The beating remains steady, but the sound increases, a crescendo into a pounding.
The globe then reappears, faint at first but then morphing into perfect distinct clarity. The steady pounding takes on a shape and replaces the oversized spot occupied by America. Of course, the shape is not that of a country, it is the shape of a heart. It is a beating heart — the heart of the entire planet.
Now the lines from everywhere begin to reappear, indistinct into distinct, and all lines (some thin and light-colored and some various shades of dark and thickness). All lines end at the heart, the hub, the center of planet earth. Then suddenly some of the lines begin to fade, and some disappear altogether. The pounding heart then diminishes. It becomes a diminuendo beat, and no longer steady and rhythmical. The beat is erratic, still distinct, but faint.
The beating heart of planet Earth still pumps, but the blood supply to and from it is diminishing. The arteries, veins, and capillaries are clogged. They need intervention and repair. They carry economic health, but they also carry vision, dreams, and hope. They carry the planet’s future.
Destination is destiny.
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