Protest.

I think a lot of what's happening in America right now can be summed up by the title of Neil Postman's famous book "Amusing Ourselves to Death."

A century and a half ago, Marx asserted "Religion is the opiate of the masses." Today, we have improved upon religion.

Sale-a-brations are the opiate of the masses.

Kim Kardashian's ass is the opiate of the masses.

Posting pictures of your dinner, tweeting, reality tv, sports, etc. All opiates.

We live in a strangely anesthetized age.

When a loved one dies, we're supposed to come to terms with it. We're supposed to "put it behind us."

When banks bring down the Global Economic System, we're suppose to applaud their demonstrations of largesse, like their sponsorship of stadiums and outdoor theater. We're supposed to smile along with the actors in their inundating commercials.

And now, with Ferguson, like with Trayvon before that, we're supposed to go home and protest quietly.

We live in an era where we're encouraged to go gently into that goodnight.

Where we're NOT supposed to rage against the dying of the light.

No, we're supposed to tsk and tut and change our Facebook profile picture, as if that's enough.

I don't know how to protest.

No one does.

You can't do what Thoreau did protesting the Mexican American War and not pay tax. Our taxes are withheld automatically.

You can't throw stones or Molotovs through plate glass.

We drink our drinks,
And watch our shows,
And turn out the lights,
And so it goes.