Don't over promise. Keep track of night and day, even if you can't see daylight. Encourage friendships, but watch out for cliques. Let everybody have privacy, but don't let anybody become a loner. These are the rules in the hole.
Beneath the subway stations and sewer lines, bellow the cement and foundations of Skye scrapers, in a dark man made black hole with coal and machinery on the other end. Scared men of bones and flesh breath careful mouthfuls of oxygen.. Not effected my climate change or wildfires or traffic and gaudy billboards, a group of Chilean miners, all men, have been arrested under the Earth's overweight oily skin for a month and a few more days after that, after a cave in that left little hope for survivors. In an underground winding maze of tunnels and wide open chambers the size of football stadiums and hallways that lead to chambers that when examined delineate millions of years of geographical history, the group of thirty-three made contact with the outside world through a note attached to a drilling machine retrieved from the dark abyss. It read, “we are alive, all 33 of us”. Air reaches them and supplies touch their skin, but the life encouraging elements of sun and wind and rain are two thousand feet above their heads. By the time a hole is created wide enough for them to escape their Earthly prison, it will be at least a few more months from now as the coming new year awaits its cocktail party. There skin will be pale when they reach the surface, their eyes small, and their nails sharp. They will resemble rodents, they will fit in well alongside news analyst and strong coffee television hosts. .
If only the miners were American how great things could be. No other news articles on any other beat would see publication. A group of American's battling poverty and the social structure vow to keep their family's lively hood, chizzling into the center of the Earth, to prevail the worlds reliance on untapped energy, in a battle for survival against time. If they were only trapped under Southern Nebraska or Foggy Creek Illinois. They would have tuned in ears and eyes around the country listening and watching every update, heralding tales of rummaging around in the dark, rocky, Earth and apply it to their own hours of rummaging around their co workers and families and cubicles, avoiding the darker spots and not trusting where the light shines. Somewhere in people's America as the president says when he makes an important speech in an unimportant town. If the whole country can't be called people's America then there is no such use for the term anymore. There is the rich man's capital influenced America, the poor mans yesterday's America and the middle class pushers that don't have a say in anything. The miners would gain the popularity of politicians and pop stars. Each man would have his signature way of presenting his words to the world. They could translate their messages to all the news outlets and radio stations to be transmitted across the states into Alaska and back down to New Mexico and up to Maine. They would become symbols of hope and focus for the millions above ground. Trapped in our own realities of day to day struggles, these men could have given us the much needed relieve that one can only find deep underground where head lamps and playing cards are the only forms of the attach and release of struggle. If somebody doesn't find a group of people in a mine soon we should push someone in. maybe make a reality show of it once the hole becomes big enough for the camera equipment to fit through. A news article is seen printed on the third page of the Wall Street Journal. Juan Hernandez says life is most important enjoying the company of good friends, and as well, don't expect friends to be your friends anymore when all you can talk about is jagged rocks. A beach of cement waves that break in sharp obnoxious points that feel like metallic sandpaper and are just as uncomfortable to but pressure on.
These men could have saved the country if communicated well. Spoken from the heart. Regrets and happiness shared , like a man of wisdom buried in the grave able to relay his thoughts and feelings on a life passed. I have no fear of what any of the men would say, it will be his truth. A universal truth , an episode of life with no credits at the end, a never ending monologue of personal discovery and hope. If voiced well they could unify the nation, lead a revolution, gotten rid of greedy Republicans and Democrats, decreased government spending on killing machines, and created values based on family and moral integrity. But like most news stories, they will be paraded, placed in green rooms and forced on camera. They will be ask questions they have answers for but then cut short. There months of suffering below ground will play out in fifteen minutes of fame. If the Earth is a shade tree to what really is, don't fear death, fear the legacy. We lay the foundation for the young. If messages become clearer the deeper you go, close your eyes and dive.
