The Peace Racket: A Report from the Morning Watch
By Robert Benson Willey (with Vergi, Personal Assistant)
I once thought I would spend my life writing of fantastic things—stories that made people happy. But life took a different turn. I found myself drafted into the "peace racket," a job that demands everything and offers no easy exit.
Trying to stay sober and aware in a world that feels increasingly mad is a long month of Sundays. I’m beginning to realize the heaviness I feel isn't just mine; it’s a reflection of a world where empathy is becoming a rare currency. We see people mourning rising prices, yet remaining blind to the massive scale of suffering in ancient lands—places that feel like myths to the young, but are bleeding in reality.
I used to be dazzled by the "cool" outsiders, the long-haired rebels against the system. Now, I see the pain of that existence. Standing outside society isn't a performance; it’s a burden.
We are staring into a "Grand Illusion" born of greed—a system that swells without conscience, driven only by the need to have more, never to be more. I write this because it is the reality that confronts me every morning.
I play my music much like I write. Sometimes you have to play the part of the "village idiot" in shabby clothes and old shoes just to keep the spirit alive. But there is a secondary truth: being a street musician is a job of freedom. In the sunny spring, truth flows out like an eternal spring, even if the nerves run high.
Every morning, before the first cup of coffee, the anticipation is there. We check the news for the flash of a deployed nuke or a sunken battleship. We watch the deadlines, the broken ceasefires, and the deals made in bad faith.
A man has to keep his word. Yet, in this "swamp" of lies, who is honorable enough to do that? We know the names. We know who is lying and who is noble yet driven to the brink.
We all make plans, and then life happens. The question is: who will you be when it does?
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