Destroy All Cars (14 page)

It made me look forward to things. Which sorta pissed me off—since that's exactly what Sadie predicted would happen if I would just open myself up a little.

I hate it when Sadie is right.

Cogweiller emailed me today. He said he's retiring from teaching and that he and his wife are moving to Arizona at the end of the summer. He wanted to stay in touch in case I needed a college recommendation from him. He said he'd be happy to write one.

I wrote him back and said thanks but I didn't think I was going to college right away. I told him I wanted to move to Washington DC after high school, and join some other people working on a website called WastedOnTheYoung.com.

I told him we hoped to engage in guerrilla media attacks, harassing people and doing funny outrageous things online to get other young people as angry and motivated as we were.

He wrote back and said, “Sounds like an adventure!” Then he gave me his mailing address just in case. I copied it down and put it in my drawer. Just in case.

“Once we were happy in our own country and we were seldom hungry, for then the two-leggeds and the four-leggeds lived together like relatives, and there was plenty for them and plenty for us. But the Wasichus [white men] came, and they made little islands for us and other little islands for the four-leggeds, and always these islands are becoming smaller, for around them surges the gnawing flood of the Wasichu; and it is dirty with lies and greed.”

“That fall [1883], they say, the last of the bison herds was slaughtered by the Wasichus. I can remember when the bison were so many that they could not be counted, but more and more Wasichus came to kill them until there were only heaps of bones scattered where they used to be. The Wasichus did not kill them to eat; they killed them for the metal that makes them crazy…they just killed and killed because they liked to do that. When we hunted bison, we killed only what we needed…”

“All our people now were settling down in square grey houses, scattered here and there across this hungry land, and around them the Wasichus had drawn a line to keep them in. The nation's hoop was broken, and there was no center any longer for the flowering
tree. The people were in despair. They seemed heavy to me, heavy and dark…”

“I could see that the Wasichus did not care for each other the way our people did. They would take everything from each other if they could, and so there were some who had more of everything than they could use, while crowds of people had nothing at all and maybe were starving. They had forgotten that the earth was their mother.”

“I looked back in the past and recalled my people's old ways, but they were not living that way any more. They were traveling the black road, everybody for himself…”

“When I look back now from this high hill of my old age, I can still see the butchered women and children lying heaped and scattered all along the crooked gulch as plain as when I saw them with eyes still young. And I can see that something else died there in the bloody mud, and was buried in the blizzard. A people's dream died there.”

BY JAMES HOFF

I was watching one of our high school tennis matches the other day. Our best guy was playing the best guy from Wilson. The first thing I noticed was that beneath the tennis competition was a separate competition of who could be the biggest asshole.

The match was very entertaining. There was complaining, whining, arguing. Racquets were thrown. Balls were kicked. I was glad the players were indulging their assholic tendencies. Assholes are more fun to watch than people who keep their cool. Assholes are more fun in general, as long as they're not being assholes to you.

In our society, we teach young people to be modest and humble, to respect authority. The people who absorb this message tend to be the people who are humble anyway: the dorks, the losers, people who wear glasses. These people nod knowingly when adults explain that assholism hurts others and leads to personal unhappiness. They agree. They think being quiet and meek is the better way to go. That is convenient since that is how they are anyway.

Meanwhile, the assholes hear this message and laugh. They already know the reality of American life: Assholes rule! Being meek gets you nothing! Get out
there and grab whatever you can, fight for it, kill for it! If one of these assholes happens to meet another asshole trying to get the same thing, well, now things get interesting. Now we have free market competition! Everyone loves a good fight. Even the dorks and losers can be roused from their video games to watch the assholes duke it out.

The tennis players spat a lot. They stalked around the court scowling at each other. They didn't just want to win, they wanted to screw the other guy over. People could feel the assholism and soon a large crowd gathered. Both these tennis players probably get millions of girls.

We are taught the greatness of the Dalai Lama, Mother Teresa, Martin Luther King. But who do we really stand in awe of? Not those people. We prefer winners, conquerors, the rich, the famous. We love athletes who crush their opponents. We like companies who strangle their competition. When our politicians steal elections, we stand in awe, unable to act, we're so mesmerized by this extreme and fascinating assholity. We respect people with the
cojones
to screw other people over. We love the victorious. We don't care how they did it. The more ruthless the better.

“But what does this mean in our current situation as we stand at the brink of ecological disaster?” you ask.

As long as there were relatively few of us and we didn't have the technology to do serious harm to our surroundings, we could pretty much do whatever
we wanted to each other. Cheat, murder, blackmail, behead. If this was our idea of fun, whatever. We were only hurting ourselves.

Now, though, our love of assholism has consequences. Certain people will make billions of dollars from the oil that is still in the ground. We could possibly save the planet if we left it there and found other forms of energy. But those people don't want that to happen. They want their billions, and they don't mind screwing us over to get it.

Meanwhile we stand in awe, as usual. We think: They're not really going to ruin the earth for all future generations, are they? Just for a little more money? They would endanger all living things? They wouldn't do that. Nobody is that much of an asshole.

But they would do it. And they will.

Which is why, fellow dorks, losers, and people who wear glasses, this might be a good time to pry yourself away from the computer games…

BY JAMES HOFF

First of all, I would like to thank the college admissions board for the opportunity to share with you some of the special qualities that I hope to bring to your excellent institution. As you can see, I am pretty much exactly what you are looking for. For instance:

1.
I AM A MAJOR LEAGUE SUCK UP. I really am. I like you. I like your college. I want to learn from you. I think spending four years with you will be the best thing that has ever happened to me. Your influence will change me forever. I can't wait to grow up and be like you in every way.

2.
I AM A REGURGITATION MACHINE. On papers or tests, I don't like to think too much. Thinking sometimes leads to conclusions that don't get you an A. I like to remember what my teacher thought and write that down instead. That usually leads to a more positive outcome.

3.
I PLAY IT SAFE. I never do weird things. I don't even sing in the shower. What if my college counselor was walking by and she heard me singing incorrectly and she mentioned on my college applications that I can't sing? How would I get into the best college and get the best job and make the most money, with such a mark on my record?

4.
I ONLY LIKE WHAT I'M SUPPOSED TO LIKE. You know that cool new band everyone is talking about? I don't. That's because I don't pay attention to current trends. Why should I? They haven't passed the test of time. I know that Bob Dylan is good because adults tell me so. Even though he can't sing and his songs go on forever and he sounds like he has a clothespin pinching his nose, Mr. Dylan is
established.

5.
I HAVE DONE EVERYTHING RIGHT. Many people think your teen years are a time to experiment, take risks, and discover who you really are. Me, I've focused on being perfect. I have memorized my textbooks, never questioned my teachers, and spent all my free time doing pointless, non-threatening extracurriculars like Statistics Club and JV Badminton. After college, I plan to work for a multinational corporation and exploit poor people for my own financial gain. If anyone says I have done something wrong, I will say, “On the contrary, I have done everything right!”

6.
NO CHANGES FOR ME. As long as everything stays like it is, I will get a high-powered job, make tons of money, and will live in a huge house protected by iron gates. For this reason I don't want to change anything. When people say we need to rethink our unsustainable lifestyle, I say, “Oh yeah? And what's
your
grade point average?” When they say we have to stop plundering the earth and polluting the air, I say, “Excuse me, but that's my parking space.” Admitting me to your fine institution will help everything stay the same. And isn't that what we all really want?

“Now and then [Crazy Horse] would…have the crier call me into his tepee to eat with him. Then he would say things to tease me, but I wouldn't say anything back because I think I was a little afraid of him. I was not afraid he would hurt me; I was just afraid. Everybody felt that way about him, for he was a queer man and would go about the village without noticing people or saying anything. In his own tepee he would joke, and when he was on the warpath with a small party he would joke to make his warriors feel good. But around the village he hardly ever noticed anybody, except little children. All the Lakotas like to dance and sing but he never joined a dance, and they say nobody ever saw him sing. But everybody liked him, and they would do anything he wanted or go anywhere he said. He was a small man among the Lakotas and he was slender and had a thin face and his eyes looked through things and he always seemed to be thinking about something. He never wanted to have many things for himself, and did not have many ponies like a chief. They say that when game was scarce and the people were hungry, he would not eat at all. He was a queer man. Maybe he was always part way into that world of his vision. He was a very great man, and I think if the
Wasichus had not murdered him down there, maybe we should still have the Black Hills and be happy. They could not kill him in battle. They had to lie to him and murder him. And he was only about thirty years old when he died.”

Copyright © 2009 by Blake Nelson

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Excerpts from
Black Elk Speaks
© 2008 Suny Press Book. Reprinted by permission from
Suny Press.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Nelson, Blake

Destroy all cars / Blake Nelson.—1st ed.

       p. cm.

Summary: Through assignments for English class, seventeen-year-old James Hoff rants against consumerism and his classmates' apathy, puzzles over his feelings for his ex-girlfriend, and expresses disdain for his emotionally distant parents.

ISBN-13 978-0-545-10474-6 (hardcover : alk. paper)

ISBN-10 0-545-10474-2 (hardcover : alk. paper) [1. Social action—Fiction. 2. Consumption (Economics)—Fiction. 3. Ecology—Fiction. 4. Dating (Social customs)—Fiction. 5. High schools—Fiction. 6. Schools—Fiction. 7. Family problems—Fiction.]

I. Title.

PZ7.N4328Des 2009

[Fic]—dc22

2008034850

First edition, May 2009

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

E-ISBN: 978-0-545-23004-9