Everyone always remembers the first part of Rodney King's famous phrase during a 1992 press conference, "Can't we all just get along."
However, no one ever remembers that there is a second part in which King said, "Can we stop making it (sic), making it horrible for the older people and the kids?
Few people might consider King's words to be philosophically deep. However, that is because of the fact that we all are superficially driven people. In fact, for the most part, we dismissed his famous line is a parody or a meme. However, there indeed is more depth in King's words than we ever gave him credit.
Today, five years and ten days after Rodney King's death and exactly 25 years and 40 days after King originally made his plea, I am going to reach into the immaterial that defines our existence and pull into our tangible realm, the message that we never heard.
In essence, I will vindicate the words of a man, we chose to believe was incapable of delivering a message that could resonate with our own human esotericism.
"Can we stop making it, making it horrible for the older people"
Why older people? What about the maliciousness or callousness of our middle-generations would cause our older generations to suffer? Ultimately, this relates to the existentialism of the human experience. Our lifespan encompasses the evolution of our psychological and sociological beliefs and thoughts.
Anyone who is graced with the ability to enjoy longevity in life reaches a point where they begin to define the immeasurable value of their life. Have they lived the life they wanted? Have they experienced the world as they desired? Have they made a significant enough impact on the world that their name will be recorded in history?
Or will their name simply be a forgotten with the passage of time? Surely, our family will remember us. But for how long?
Quick name your 5th generation Grandmother. Ahhhh, see... Now the reality sets in that even for our families, we all will be nothing more than a forgotten step in an ancestral line that provides for their existence.
Suddenly, as the reality of mortality sets in for the elderly person, it becomes apparent that the wealth of their existence in their own valuation is irrelevant. Rather, it is not what you have done, or what you have experienced. No....actual wealth, in our lives, comes not from what we've done. Rather, from what we leave for the lives of others.
Barring a select few in civilization's history, we all will succumb to being notable by nothing more than being merely dust and ashes. We will then serve as immaterial guides to our living relatives, trying through improbable means to reach those on this earth and express to them the mistakes we were once too blind to see.
Suddenly, we begin to realize that we initially we thought there wasn't enough time in the day. However, the reality is we didn't put enough days in our time. Because as the bell tolls with every hour the laughter of the reaper is calling out to us. Chuckling as a reminder, that we are all but finite beings in an infinite existence.
It becomes somberly apparent that the universe was created for each of us individually. However, one is merely just dust and ashes by themselves. We spent a lifetime trying to give meaning in our individual lives, yet our individual lives were never the most important aspects of our morality. No matter how sturdy our monuments or our memorials are, they all will eventually be erased from existence. Our graves will be robbed for riches or research. We will be nameless placeholders for a future generations curiosity or greed.
Suddenly, we come to terms with the meaning of life. It isn't about what we leave for others to remember us by. Rather, it is what path have we left for the collective to follow. Our role all along was to advance the collective of humanity. To be a nameless cog in humanity's wheel, so that collectively as a society we could leave a vessel for others to travel along. Our goal was to blaze a path that provided the future collective the most unobstructed path towards prosperity and unity.
The horror that King spoke of was the horror in our elderly at the realization they didn't move the collective along as best they could. They didn't do enough, or they did too much for themselves. It was the horror that their time has waned, and in their place are generations that still fail to see the collective meaning of humanity. Generations that still are blind to see the common spark of sentient consciousness that binds us all together. The horror of realizing, like all the generations before them, we have advanced our technology and our tangible commodities. However, we have utterly failed at advancing our humanity.
Like a desperate epilog, the only words that can be uttered is, "Can't we all just get along!" It is not a question. Rather, and expression of exasperation.
"And the kids?"
Blessed are our children, for in their innocence is the kingdom of heaven. Our children are yet to be polluted by our proceeding generations toxicity. Like flowers just emerging from bud, they simply yearn to know where the sun rises so they may follow it. They eagerly soak up the water provided for them so that they may grow.
It is us, the middle generations that provide for our children the sun and the water. It is us, that dictate the direction our youth will grow. Inherent is their innocence. Emotions like hate don't even exist in their youthful hungry minds. Even the concept of killing is surrealistic. For our children, life is undeviating, and the concept of death doesn't even exist.
Blameless in their prolog, the children sing, "Can't we all just get along?" Their enchanted voices carry this tune will pure inquisitiveness and an alternative to this reality does not confine them.
So past the point where you can see, exactly 912 preceding generations of human beings scream out as softly as the faintest whisper, "Can't you all just get along. Can't you stop making it horrible for the older people and the kids? Can't you all just be better than we were?"