And it was with you, Jesse.
Most Angelenos today can see that we’re at an historic juncture with the city; housing is at the forefront of social issues facing not only Los Angeles, but all of the state of California. I can appreciate my personal position within the dynamic: I’m 27 years old and still living at home with my mom, where the two of us split rent in a rent-controlled unit amid an area that’s only recently been dubbed as “East Hollywood”.
The situation is precarious; like many Angelenos, my mother immigrated to the United States from Mexico in the 1980s with virtually no wealth in assets, and although in a few years she’ll be able to claim social security benefits and plans to apply for housing assistance based on her income, she also understands that there is virtually no guarantee she’ll be able to secure anything.
She is one of millions of recently migrated Angelenos whose future is not exactly accounted for, and I’m one of a generation of millennials whose opportunity to build a home as it’s traditionally thought of is at an historic low. The question is obvious, then: where are people like my mother and I going, exactly? And in the case of a disaster, how could people in such circumstances possibly survive?
At the same time, throughout the past year the impact of the state’s wildfires and subsequent mudslide tragedies showed any Californians reading their papers how the fiscal and logistical burdens placed on the state by more extreme weather patterns are only growing dramatically in cost, size, and frequency alike. The events also revealed how regardless of where people fall on the income ladder, the state is largely under-prepared to help.
So then, where are the people of California going? One way or another, we’ve got to find out. Then we’ve got to share that information, and move. The rest is Jimbo Times.
What is the first thing you do when you arrive to a new world? Through the blazing heat of another summer etching its way into the books, POC Today has not only proved to be persistent for its existence, but it has grown past the first root and onto the surface.
Stemming from this are the first stretches of a new generation’s ambitions. Born under great pressure, it seems only natural to expel ourselves onto the world with the same ferocity that’s been weighed upon us.
And yet as fierce and ambitious as we might like to be, we’ve found that there is a sacred importance in pausing to hear the words of our elders, whose voices pierce like thunder through a dream.
The truth is that a nation of dreams met their end the moment the first tower was pillaged in flames; a whole crop of Americans would never be able to go back to their regularly scheduled programming when it became clear that there weren’t enough 911 teams or presidential speeches to save our memories from the ashes.
Yet this is only partly true. The fact of the matter is that although many of us left from the ruins of 9/11 with an expanded consciousness of the state of war around us, there were far more of us across the United States who wept submissively and alone before returning back to our desks and the dream-state.
Today, whether consciously or not, the human experience in the 21st century is more programmed or wired than ever before. With each day that passes, the collective amnesia keeping so much of the masses in order is only strengthened by what will probably go down as the West’s most lasting hallmark for civilization: consumer culture. If there’s one thing that should separate human beings from machines in the 21st century, surely it’s the human addiction to consume in excess, i.e., wastefully.
Sixteen years since the world trade center fell to the dust there are more humans across the world who move throughout financial and government centers only to return home where they can take reap from the planet as freely as their progenitors in the West do, albeit slightly differently.
In 2017 the consensus that technological advancement would steadily take over labor from humans has only become a scientific fact, as clear as the screen of a new smart-phone.
In less than ten years the so-called developed nations will finally see cars that drive themselves, machines that will patrol the streets, and a world in which virtual reality will hold more weight than religion.
The fact of the matter, of course, is that automation took over from humans a far cry ago. Submission to repetition worked wonders through several points of human history, yet at the break of the new millennium the formula only seems to reveal that we might not be so separate from the animals after all, the only difference being that we can recognize our proclivity to be mastered.
As of yet, this ability doesn’t appear to make a very strong case for us to travel down a any road other than extinction like so many other species. Yet this isn’t wholly true, either.
The world moves in chaos, where static conceals the way in which multiple opposite things can be true at once. Indeed, as similar as every human being is to the next, they are also different in a way that ends up mattering.
POC Today is searching for that matter. Even through rubble, loss and confusion we know that if we can make it past such a crucible there’s still more to be gained. Not all history repeats itself. We can still build another world, and struggle as we might to find more of us with which to build, as far as we know and are concerned, there are still enough of us here to give it all one hell of a shot.
We won’t go silently into the night.
It’s in our veins to push back.