One change is that you’ll notice, if you have ever visited my site more than once, that my portfolio is disappearing. I am taking it down to work on a project I have in mind. But I’m also taking it down because it doesn’t fit with the future Mythic Thinking Xx.0.

I wrote in my biography a couple years ago that I’ll contemplate what “About Priscilla” means once my dissertation is complete. In the months after my defense–we can call this the postpartum period–I wasn’t sure what I wanted to be when I grow up.

I do now.

So stay tuned.

I maintain that there are two myths at the core of the American cultural psyche: Utopia and Manifest Destiny. Tucked under Manifest Destiny lies our relationship to consumption. For the American, there are three modes of consumption:

1. Survival—well, duh.
2. Power—By consuming the resources, none of the other kids can have them, making us king of the playground.
3. Unquenhable Hunger—Our consumption is also a need to satiate a hunger, to fill some kind of spiritual hole.

I am an apologist for consumption. I don’t believe that the solution to number three is to reinfuse myth into our culture. If there is any single characteristic inherent in Americans, it’s our resourcefulness. We have been writing our own myths for centuries, albeit in nontraditional forms. I do believe, however, that the solution to number three is to rewrite the consumption myth altogether, but I’m digressing from my original intended topic.

It occurs to me that number three exists because our country was founded by Protestants. Sure, Protestants brought a strong work-ethic to this country. But Protestants also brought half a religion with them. Protestantism is Catholicism without the mystery and mysticism. I’m not sure why anyone would want to take the mystery and mysticism out of Christianity, but there you have it.

My flavor of Protestantism is Episcopalian. “The Thinking Man’s Religion.” The lineage of the Episcopal Church can be traced to Henry VIII and the establishment of the Anglican Church. Henry wasn’t trying to take the mystery out of Christianity; he just wanted power and control over the church. Oh yeah, and a divorce. As such, I grok the mystery of Christianity, but not the mysticism.

Let me also take a moment to point out that today’s Catholicism is not Christopher Columbus’ Catholicism. The Catholic Church has had to change dramatically over the centuries to fight against the allure of the Protestant Churches and, increasingly, other religions altogether. This, and the ease of establishing Protestant denominations/churches, is why Christianity is such a mess.

I’m not suggesting that America would have been “better off” if it had been founded by Catholics. Look at the history of Meso- and South America. At least the Catholic conquistadors were consciously searching for modes of consumption, but they still slaughtered anyone in their path who wasn’t cooperating. There’s that annoying relationship between consumption and power again.

I am suggesting, however, that Americans need to relearn the mystery and mysticism of SOMETHING. Perhaps “traditional” or “organized” religions is not the answer (I’m including Native American traditions here). Perhaps, instead, the secret is to disconnect from the Information Superhighway. I have to give kudos to Henry David Thoreau. While his abandonment of civilization isn’t for everyone (assuming there are still remote parts of America left), his attention to the little things is. How easy it would be to embrace the mystery the Romantic poets saw, and find even a little solace in our Soulless? world.

One key point of the Hero’s Journey is that it is a circle. The Hero leaves, the Hero must return. If the Hero fails to return, then someone needs to go in and bring him/her home. The Hero must return and share the boon. Sure, there are exceptions. But that’s a different conversation.

The Journey is also linked with Jung’s process of Individuation. In the process of becoming a whole in-divid-ual, Jung tells us that we need to descend into the unconscious, return, and repeat the process as often as necessary. Jung’s process is associated by “old school” Jungians as aimed for the second half of life, but I don’t buy that for one second.

Hero’s Journey, circular, continuous… Point made? Good. So, here’s where my thoughts were going.

In our current phase of epic literature [“literature” includes film, television, and any other “text” within myth/popular culture], our epics are episodic. Historic epics, such as The Odyssey and Moby-Dick (a nod to my Epic professor, Dennis Slattery), have episodes built into the larger Hero Journey of the character, but are themselves not episodic. By episodic, let’s consider Harry Potter.

Harry has a single journey that spans all seven volumes—to defeat Voldemort and rid the wizarding world of an evil. This single journey’s latent meaning involves breaking his bond with Voldemort, and individuating, moving beyond the Boy Who Lived and to become Harry.

Each volume of the series is itself a complete Hero Journey. In the first book, his Journey is to rescue the Sorcerer’s Stone, the second is to rescue Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets, etc. Each journey brings him ever closer to the ultimate boon battle with Voldemort.

The limitations of words on this blog make the image I’m trying to convey a little difficult, but work with me here. The Little Hero’s Journeys build upon each other and culminate in the Big Hero’s Journey. Kind of like a spiral, with the first story being at the top moving down:

Though I’d prefer to imagine it the other way around, moving from narrow bottom up, but I couldn’t find a suitable image.

This new kind of Epic Hero’s Journey is nicely situated for integrating Campbell’s Monomyth with Jung’s Individuation. It’s a process. With each level, we gain experience and magical helpers that give us the strength to ultimately face that Bad Guy at the end of the game. (A notable exception is Epic Mickey. Again, something for another day.) We can see this Epic Monomyth at play in many different myth outlets these days, of which Harry Potter is only one voice. Others that immediately come to mind include Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, The Hunger Games, and Star Wars.

And seeing the Hero’s Journey in this way makes it a better roadmap for our lives. Imagine what our world would look like if we imagined progress as a spiral and not as a linear evolution?

For your viewing pleasure, I pilfered this from overthinkingit.com (credit due where credit is due):

Disclaimer: I’ve never bothered to explore the history of St. Nicholas. Today is no exception.

In our society, Christmas seems to have been stolen by the consumers. Like Lucy van Pelt, the holiday is about presents–the ones we will receive. I do confess to buying myself gifts and wrapping them to make sure I have something to open on Christmas. But, it shouldn’t come as a surprise to you, Dear Reader, that I am unashamed about being a consumer. I see it as the American Way.

Because the consumers have absconded the holiday, religious groups have responded with calls to put the CHRIST back into CHRISTmas. Apparently, religion and culture can’t coexist? But they can–this is the backbone of America’s identity. That whole separation of church and state thing.

Santa falls into the consumer category. He brings gifts to all the girls and boys, which translates to the parents try to get their kid awesome toys for Christmas as “Santa gifts.” Usually these are big ticket. Santa never brought clothes in my house.

If you’re Nice, maybe you’ll receive the new game system. If you’re Naughty, maybe you’ll get a lump of coal.

Santa, as an American myth (there are different Santas in different cultures. The basic myth remains the same), is not about presents, behavior modification, or consumption. Santa is the embodiment of the light needed during the winter months. He is the Spirit of Love, Kindness, Generosity and Giving. It’s no accident that his holiday follows the Winter Solstice. (Pagan rituals not withstanding.) When we are at our darkest, Santa helps light the way, and fill our hearts to hold us over until Spring.

All religious celebrations at this time of year that I know about are all festivals of light. The same point. But we don’t sit on the lap of Baby Jesus and share our wishes for the year. Santa is both grandfather and confessor. He nurtures and comforts when we need it most. The suicide rate goes up this time of year. If only we all had Santa!

I don’t really think Santa will come into my house to drop off gifts, but I am happy to embrace the Santa Myth because it fills my heart with happiness at this time of year. I may not have the Leave It To Beaver family Christmas I covet, but at least I can have a happy one.

We will have Santa in my house, and Caterpillar will leave not milk with the cookies, but coffee to keep him awake while he delivers gifts. Conveniently, the coffee will be dressed the way Mommy likes it…

To be over-30 and a “Gleek” seems silly, the same way that being a Potter-fan was perceived 10(!) years ago. I find the show to be a very guilty pleasure. With the exception of last season, I’ve watched the show faithfully on Hulu since it launched. I’m not sure what attracts me to the show. It’s certainly NOT the glee club remixes of pop songs and show tunes. And it’s certainly NOT the forced union between song and story.

I do appreciate that the characters have realistic storylines. The first season dealt with high school crushes and teen pregnancy. The second season dealt with bullying, homosexuality and being “out.” The third season dealt with graduation, teen fears of moving on, abuse, and winter pregnancy. This current season is dealing with growing up post-graduation, bullying, and eating disorders.

Here are a few of my thoughts about specifics.
**MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS**

Coach Beiste:
I love Coach Beiste. When they first introduced her in season two, it seemed as though it was a cruel joke—a not-so-feminine woman coaching the football team? The kids on the show made fun of her more often than not. It wasn’t until they revealed her soft side that her place on the show changed. She became a sort of Tiresias, the Greek mystic who, in mythology, spent time as both a man and a woman, and is called upon to address life’s mysteries. Beiste offers motivational advice to the students and love advice to anyone who asks. How she accomplishes this is through sports metaphor and simple answers. Her perspectives are spot-on at the time when a character is going through a major turning point. In the third season, she finally finds love, only to find out that the man she loves is abusive. She goes back and forth about whether or not to leave him, finally deciding that she needed to. The strength and advice she needed came from the same students she was constantly motivating.

Marley Rose:

I’m not necessarily a big fan of Marley, but I am a fan of her plot. She’s the daughter of the new, very large school lunchlady. She has been to several other schools and has been run off when people realize who her mom is. They bully both her and her mom on a regular basis. They haven’t, as of yet, explored the mom’s reaction to the bullying (is she really that much of an emotional rock?), but Marley doesn’t take it well and tries to stand up for her. What has developed so far is that she has become the target of the head cheerleader, Kitty, who is the bulliest of them all. Kitty sabotaged Marley’s costume for Grease to give her a complex about her weight—telling her that she has the “fat gene.” In one touching scene, Marley talks to her mom about her weight. We learn that mom gained her weight as a result of comfort eating her way through a very traumatic divorce. Nonetheless, Kitty is getting through to Marley, and the suggestion is made that Kitty has talked Marley into dappling with bulimia. This can’t end well. I hope that Marley comes through OK, and that Kitty gets some sort of awakening about how her words and actions hurt, and can potentially, kill people. This season has gotten too cluttered, so this may be the Big One they are saving for Spring Sweeps.

Rachel Berry:

I’ve never liked Rachel, and I still don’t. I don’t like that she got away with being hyper-pushy and full of herself for three seasons, and I’m not a fan of “belting” pop singers. What I will grant is how her character changed as a result of moving to New York and going to NYADA, a performing arts school that has revealed to her that she’s really a small fish in a big pond. I keep hoping that plots such as the one involving Cassandra July and Rachel’s post-Finn crush Brody will toughen her up. She’s way too naïve.

Sue Sylvester:

How can I write about Glee and not write about Sue? She’s my other favorite supporting character. In fact, I recently watched a couple of Christopher Guest films just because I love her character so much. She’s the bully of all bullies, but what sets her apart is that her soft spot is closer to the surface than the show implies. Her snarky comments inspire the New Directions to be awesome, and when a situation calls for it—such as intervening on Coach Beiste—she is soft and responsive. One of my favorite scenes with her was the funeral for her sister, who had Down’s Syndrome. Because her favorite movie was Willy Wonka, the Glee Club performed “Pure Imagination” in tribute. This season, they have only mentioned Sue’s Down’s Syndrome baby a couple times. They have, however, created a new tension between Sue and the New Directions by having Finn Hudson, McKinley Alum and temporary replacement for Will Sheuster (who is off in Washington for most of this season), call her baby “retarded.” For the first time in the history of the show, Sue is fully enraged and is fighting Finn and the Glee Club all the way, even though Finn did apologize. This will be another plot that I’m sure will come to a head in Spring Sweeps. A very deserved rage, I say. War is on. Sue is Agamemnon, and the Glee Club is Troy. Perhaps this war won’t come to the same tragic end.

One is that, regardless of one’s personal experience, Pacifica works you. The school is attractive because it is not a degree mill. The environment, from the faculty to the landscaping, invites and practically requires each of its students to engage in self work. This can be both good and bad, depending on one’s frame of reference, which is why I never lightly recommend that anyone goes to Pacifica if they have any questions or doubts about whether they want to go.

And there is the flip side to this. Pacifica will raise anything that is buried in what Jung calls “the shadow.” Any negative, unconscious beastie that is lurking in the depths of our unconscious will be brought to the surface by Pacifica. As you can imagine, this can cast a … well, a shadow … on any memory of the experience or influence what we do with our degrees after leaving the school.

But here’s the thing that the Alumni Association reveals: we are not alone. During the coursework, we spend a week in California, get energized and jazzed, then we come home and the Pacifica Go-Go Juice is slowly drained away by our everyday lives. Once the end of coursework comes and we return home to start working on our theses, dissertations, and/or internships, something about that connection that got us so excited in the first place feels severed. Some Pacifi-peeps start grasping at anything they can to try to reestablish that connection to the school, the faculty, and the cohort that has become like family.

So when the Alumni Association announced that it was ready to launch, I really wanted to get involved with the planning committee, but was nearing the end of my dissertation. Supporting the regional coordinators was the better choice. Being involved in almost every step of the planning process to last weekend’s event was really fun.

Overall, the weekend went according to plan. It was informative and energizing. I’m fascinated by the amount of baby metaphors that were passed around over the course of the weekend. That we were gathered to “birth the baby” and that we needed to “nurture the newborn.” I haven’t decided yet if everyone was really running with the metaphor or just expressing an unconscious response to my pregnancy…

I’ve waited in line. I have fond memories of waking up at Unholy Hour O’Clock to go to the nearest Ticketmaster to get concert tickets for my favorite bands. One of the last times I did this was a Paul McCartney tour over 10 years ago. Now, I just wait in a virtual line at my computer, comfy in my chair and PJs, to get tickets. But I do remember the excitement and the communitas of standing in line. I also have fond memories of waiting in line for midnight movie premiers and book releases. I’ve sense stopped doing the midnight showings, just because I’m not that person who can stay out until 3am on a Thursday then crawl into work on Friday morning and be functional. But there, again, is a particular excitement and communitas that happens in those midnight hours. Same with the book releases. By the end of the Harry Potter series, bookstores wisened up to the idea of throwing an actual party, making the wait that much more fun. I think my most favorite waiting in line experience was to get a wristband to see a presentation/book signing by Lemony Snicket (aka Daniel Handler) at Austin’s annual book festival. The book was the 12th book of the Series of Unfortunate Events, and the festival happened to be on my birthday. My inner book nerd was very excited to spend my birthday thusly. And I was able to fanagle anniversary greetings from Handler, making it an afternoon to remember. All other positive instances of waiting in line that I can remember involve Disney somehow.

So, yes, I understand waiting in line.

I should also add that I’m an ex-Mac user. Yes, such a person does exist! I left Mac because I had (and still have) moral? ethical? issues about their pricing structure. I can think of 100000000000000000 better, more satisfying ways to part with an Unholy Amount of Money than to buy the latest OS upgrade, iPod, or laptop computer.

But, as today proves, I’m apparently in a minority.

I do love my Android phone, and I do sometimes catch myself growing skin attachment to my phone as I play around on my various apps. Sometimes, playing around on those apps seems more important than whatever else I should be doing (a behavior I’m working very hard to break for the sake of being the type of role model my kid deserves). I get the attachment we have to our toys.

But there’s something Faustian about the unholy alliance consumers are making with their Mac products. I have very dear friends who are Mac users, and we have a mutual understanding not to engage in the Mac/PC debate. When consuming PC products, because there are so many options out there, it doesn’t seem like an unholy alliance. But with Mac, you’re not only consuming a brand, you’re committing yourself to a particular product line because of Mac’s proprietary practices. Some of these practices have leaked into the smart phone app world because “it’s easier to program an app for an iPhone than it is for a Droid.” What bunk.

I saw this commercial on Hulu yesterday. Though I’m not an SIII user, I think it well explains that perplexed look I give Mac users who want the latest upgrade:

And an image from George Takei’s Facebook:

So while I was out walking my dog this morning–have you ever considered how you consume your dog? As soon as you walk into a room and start showing pictures of your dog and correcting people about your dog’s breed, you’re consuming your dog.Oh, she’s an American Husky. The vet calls her a “mini.” That’s why she’s the size of a Husky adolescent at 10 years old–I started contemplating the ways in which the brands I consume are part of my identity. This is an excellent exercise for anyone who reads this, because inevitably, even those who think they are anti-consumerist are in fact consumers, making choices about brands that stem beyond affordability and convenience. Truly this is the American Way.

My Branding Identity, a poem-ish by moi

In the gigantic scheme of things, I am:
A cat person, not a dog person.
A Beatles Girl, not an Elvis Gal,
The Who, not the Stones.
I prefer Coke to Pepsi,
but Dr. Pepper when given the choice.
Gap to Old Navy,
Chevy to Ford
(But lovingly drive a Toyota).
Amazon to Ebay,
Kindle to Nook.

I’m a PC, not a Mac.
I like CDs over MP3s,
DVDs over VHS,
But Blu-Ray to DVD.
Xbox over Wii,
Droid over iPhone.

I fly American, not Continental.
SBA to LAX, AUS to DFW,
The airport influences the tone of the trip.

McDonald’s Fries to Burger King’s,
But In-n-Out Burger to everyone else,
except P.Terry’s in Austin.
I choose organic peanut butter over Jif.
Kleenex to Puffs,
Band-aid to Curaid.
I make copies at Kinko’s rather than the other place,
And buy my supplies at Office Depot.

DC rather than Marvel,
Batman can save me over Superman any day.
Jung to Hillman,
Campbell to Eliade.
Disney to everyone else.
Eeyore to Pooh,
Wonderland to Neverland.
Star Wars to Star Trek,
Or is it Star Trek to Star Wars?
My Doctor is the 4th, and I don’t have a Bond.

Austin, Texas, rather than Houston, Texas.
Country roads are better than Freeways.
Disneyland gets my money, not Six Flags,
But I will always stop for a historical tourist trap.

E-mail to snail mail,
but Hallmark Greetings over e-cards.
Santa Claus, Easter Bunny, Great Pumpkin:
SweetTarts, Spree, Runts, Smarties,
Please save the chocolate for someone else.

Starbucks to Seattle’s Best,
But local coffee shops are always the best.
Lattes are better than cappuccinos,
And I prefer drip coffee to French Press.
A little half-and-half, please.

Water to fire,
Earth to air.
Spirals to squares,
Beaches rather than lakes,
Except in the mountains.

This list goes on, and continues to grow.
It’s part of being a consumer, and it’s all I know.

The weekend was a Batman buzz, torn between celebrating the release of The Dark Knight Rises and mourning the events of the Aurora, CO movie theater shooting. Throughout the discussion included comments about the killer’s mental health and questions about whether it’s time for the country to revisit gun control. One Facebook friend made the following post:

And here’s a link to a wonderful op-ed written by Roger Ebert: We’ve Seen this Movie Before.

This trilogy revisits the Batman mythos in a fascinating way, and the title of this third film makes a clear statement about its overall message. But there is something about the Batman mythos that invited the events of Colorado (not to suggest that I condone the events).

But first, my relationship to Batman. I have never read a Bat-comic, but I did watch the old Adam West reruns growing up. Beyond that, Batman was just another superhero until I stumbled upon the Lego: Batman videogame a few years ago. The ability to play a story as either a hero or a villain drew me in with Joker and Harley Quinn becoming my favorite characters to play. This is the only Lego videogame I’ve played through not once, not twice, but four times. My fascination for the game encouraged me to watch Batman Begins and later The Dark Knight, and my love of Batman was cemented. Last year, I celebrated my birthday with a Batman themed cake and a marathon of the Tim Burton Batmans. I’m waiting patiently for my chance to play Lego: Batman 2. And I keep looking for a Batman omnibus at my local used bookstore hoping for an easy foray into the comics.

Of all the super heroes, Batman is a shadow hero (and this is the main reason why I prefer DC to Marvel). He is deep, tormented, and is motivated by an unhealthy desire for revenge. As such, the villains that he combats are either shallow and stupid or are as equally deep, tormented, and mad as Batman (Joker, Scarecrow, Riddler, or the new Bane, for instance). This latter category of villain leads me to my point. Joker et al sees Batman as a nemesis and toy with him whenever possible. By doing this, they test the limits of his desire for revenge and his inherent goodness to save people. See for instance the climax of The Dark Knight, when Joker gave Batman an impossible choice. And Batman took the bait.

(As an aside, we watched the blu-ray over the weekend and this was our first time watching the film since the theater. The final scene with Joker was vastly different than we remembered it. Our cousin confirmed our suspicions. So I have to ask: was the film reedited for home release and why?)

Last week, the people of Aurora bore witness to someone acting out the Batman villain, but it seems as though the villain attacked a crowded movie theater to see if the Masked Crusader would come to the rescue. It’s no accident that the villain chose a Batman film, rather than say The Avengers or Spider-Man or Brave. The Batman mythos invites madness and it invites us to play into our place of personal wounding.

We have a chronic problem in this country of denying the shadow, and the more we deny it, the more it is going to affect more people. We are living in an era full of disease (dis-ease), medication/self-medication, and explosive tempers. For most of us, whatever ails us doesn’t affect a larger radius of people. We may not even realize that we are ailing at all until we lash out at our loved ones and ruin a relationship over something seemingly petty. Others take their ailment to a larger level, such as the young man who attacked Aurora. He didn’t need to affect the lives and families of so many people, or even the trust of an entire country’s movie-going public. But, yet, somehow he did, which is why the events transpired.

Identifying with the villains seems to be a recent phenomenon, but a necessary practice since we try as a society to ignore the shadow. I was first struck by the idea of Vampire: the Masquerade and reports in the 90s of kids actually sucking the blood out of people resulting in some deaths). Then there was the whole Columbine thing. And then at Harry Potter conferences, the number of people who dress up as Snape or a Malfoy or Voldemort. By playing the villain, we can confront our innermost negative energies. They’re there, even if we’d like to believe they’re not. Once upon a time, kids just played Cowboys and Indians, but today, we need a little more than that to satisfy our shadow. Our shadow is burdened with the shadow of America, which we have been carrying on our shoulders since the end of WWII. Events like Columbine or Aurora, when one person snaps and takes the game into the real world, reflect this.

The rules have changed, and this is what Batman reminds us at the end of The Dark Knight. The Dark Knight Rises sees Batman trying to restore the rules in a way that adapts them to a new Gotham. Not enough attention is being given to this same practice in the real world, but if enough media outlets (Hollywood, YA literature) keep challenging the status quo, perhaps we can excite some real change. As Batman shows us, it’s not enough to occupy. One has to take up the cause. Meanwhile, as Batman further shows us in The Dark Knight Rises, it’s okay to struggle with your own stuff, as long as you remember the cause.

While having a discussion about boy heroes versus girl heroes and gender appropriateness, I made the comment, “Up is the boy version of Brave…. Only that it’s about an old man and a boy scout instead of a mother and daughter.”

The Hubs stared at me blankly.

So I continued: “both films are about a generational relationship. They both have to understand each other.”

The lightbulb went off and he asked, “Have there been other stories with accidental heroes?”

To which I replied, “Of course. There are the accidental heroes and there are those that are called. What makes these heroes different is that they function as a unit.”

What followed was a list of recent heroes that don’t just work in tandem with a few supporting friends as we see with the traditional hero (i.e. Harry Potter and most other traditional heroes). The traditional hero gets to the end with supporting friends, but still has to face the final confrontation alone. These new heroes must do it together. The Hubs noticed this as a new take on the sidekick motif. The sidekick is now being elevated to a level of equality to the hero. While there are some heroes that come to mind, what is really interesting to note is that almost every single Pixar hero is this unit hero:

Toy Story: Buzz and Woody have to face the nemesis together as equals. The first TS film is about them coming to that realization.
Monsters, Inc.: Mike and Sully aren’t sidekicks. This is must be part of Randy Newman’s formula for friend songs.
Finding Nemo: Surprise! This film is NOT about Nemo. It’s about Dory and Nemo’s dad working together to find Nemo. They have to work together for Marlon to succeed. The generational bit is a MacGuffin.
Wall-E: Wall-E and Eve are constantly working together to save that plant.
Up: Gramps and the kid both have to figure out how to get home and defeat the bad guy.
Meet the Robinsons: current self vs. future self working together.
The Incredibles: it’s a family affair.
Ratatouille: Remy and Linguini work together to make the perfect batch of ratatouille and keep Gusteau’s restaurant alive.
Brave: Merida and her mom have to work together to mend the tapestry.
(I honestly don’t remember A Bug’s Life well enough to comment on it.)

And then there’s Cars. I haven’t seen Cars 2 yet, but in the first Cars, Lightning McQueen seems to be on his own. But, in the end, he needed all of Radiator Springs, especially Doc Hudson, to win the race.

It’s a slow transition, but it seems as though more stories are beginning to drift toward this new hero model, which also suggests that some part of the American psyche is also drifting toward this new hero model. Could this be connected to a slight decrease in individual heroes we idolize in our culture (ex: Steve Jobs, Martin Luther King) and a slight increase in collective heroes (ex: our soldiers)? Or perhaps this is a response to the idea that things are easier when we “get by with a little help from our friends.” It’s no accident that these stories are appearing at the same time as a push for community gardens, farmer’s co-ops, alternative transportation ideas, and even *gasp* government healthcare.

The pro-individualism model can only be sustained so long, and it seems as though we’re nearing the end of it. Speaking generally, of course. But if enough of us get behind this mythic movement, perhaps we can make the paradigm change happen.

Images of USPS Pixar-themed Postage Stamps. These won’t work as real stamps.