Wednesday, July 23, 2008

There is something wrong with the way I think

My problem isn't severe, or unique, or dangerous, or even particularly compelling, but it is mine and occasionally, it is fodder for random contemplation. I read an excerpt from the forthcoming book Night of the Gun in the New York Times Magazine. The book is an autobiographical tale from one of the Times' staff writers, David Carr. Mr. Carr is the father of three daughters, two of which are fraternal twins, a cancer survivor, and a sober drug addict. He is also a confessed abuser of women, recurring felon, former crack dealer, and self-described "fat thug". According to the excerpt, which I would highly recommend you read, the only reason he won custody of his twin girls was their mother's inability to beat her crack cocaine addiction, an addiction he played a major role in catalyzing. The excerpt and the information at the book's website (see link above) are compelling reads. There are even several videos available to add depth and texture to the promotional excerpt.

I like Mr. Carr's style. He recognizes that his story is just one more 'junky makes good' narrative, making sure to temper the 'terrible drug addict metamorphoses into wonderful dad and (eventually) husband' story with the cold reality of his life and behavior as an addict. And here is where the problem in my thinking comes to the surface. This is a feel good story, or at least it should be. At the very least, it should inspire the reader to believe in the power of redemption. But these kinds of stories are so common that they bore me to the point of feeling discouraged. It seems that the world is being taken over by recovered assholes and repentant scumbags, while decent, honest, genuine people become progressively more rare. Even though I am one of the faithful adherents to the idea that redemption is a real and even necessary thing, I feel insulted by the idea that a scoundrel who eventually embraces decency after a life spent running rampant will ever be the equal of a continually decent and honest human being. The recovered addict or repentant abuser will always have those psychological elements brewing and stirring in the recesses of their mind. They will always be compromised.

Yet, we make heroes out of the repentant and marginalize those who live their lives according to genuine values. All the cool kids dabble in sex and drugs and delinquency. To be exciting and interesting and edgy is to be selfish, dishonest, and caustic. We make heroes, martyrs, and demigods of drug addicts, even as we routinely send the message to what is left of America's decent population that they are outdated, irrelevant, and substandard. Music that glorifies drug dealing, drug taking, misogyny, and hedonism sells millions, while anything positive or intelligent is lucky to go gold. Interestingly, we still enjoy watching "the good guys" win on screen, as evidenced by The Dark Knight beating Spider-Man 3's single weekend box office records this past weekend, but I suppose such instances are best considered exceptions to the general rule.

And I am in no way innocent in all of this. For the better part of my youth, I was so disgusted with humanity that I gravitated toward just the kind of music and movies and literature I am questioning in this post. It wasn't so long ago that Slipknot released a song titled "People=Shit" and I found myself inclined to agree. But maybe that is closer to the crux of the matter, this thing that is wrong with my thinking, and why I am unable to be inspired by the triumphs of former drug addicts, criminals, and degenerates. My psychology is such that I seek out the flaws in nearly every thing and every person I encounter, myself not excluded. Even as I try my best to contribute something useful to this world during my time on it, I continually chronicle the woes of this world as an amplification of my own failings, grinding my teeth and spitting out any faith in the process. I cannot help but grow frustrated with a society that describes the reborn scumbag as a triumph of the human spirit, while taking for granted the quiet, humble, decent people that are truly the foundation for any hope we might have of truly knowing collective greatness.

Hero worship and the cult of personality are the byproduct of generalized simple-mindedness, which contributes to the larger dynamic of canonization that people seem so infatuated with. The weak-willed, abusive drug addict with a penchant for womanizing and narcissism is a god because he can write a powerful song, but the honest, small business owner with a spouse and two children in suburbia is irrelevant because all he or she does is the right thing. Run an upstanding business, remain faithful to your loved ones, and keep the greater good in mind as you walk through your days, and you begin to lose touch with the cutting edge of cool. Such a scenario is the definition of stupidity! Thinking this way is a roaring indication of deficient intelligence. How dumb have we become that the honest and forthright amongst us are seen as uninspiring and generally useless? We are a country in love with human clusterfucks, and by engaging actively in this love affair, we are progressively becoming a society of clusterfucks…and so what is left of my mind goes, and goes, and goes.

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Posted by Erik @ 7/23/2008 01:00:00 PM