Creeps R Us

frank tj mackey.jpg

Just read this article dear worst-reader. And guess what? I’m more confused than ever. But I suppose being a fifty year old male in a perpetual state of forced early retirement made up of über-happiness where I live off the achievements of females who are much better at coping with this alpha world than I am–being confused is kinda OK. Which reminds me. I’m not the only one confused. There are so many others. This level of confusion is for the most part due to a kind of mass hysteria. Yet for me, this confusion comes from my ability to read-up, to get informed, to partake in the misinformation of American’ts most recent one-up in our lust for living and dying by… violence. And let me state here and forthwith: our first love as American’ts is violence.

Have to give credit where it’s due. Amanda Marcotte’s article is riveting–and not only because she writes about stuff that confuses the hell out of me. It’s riveting because it’s the most sincere work I’ve read so far regarding how the recent killing of six people in CA must surely be about misogyny and how well organised that misogyny is on the Interwebnets. (Sarcasm off.) I mean, that’s what this is about, right? This is about how men get on the Interwebnets, as they do in bars and previously did in caves, and talk about women? I mean, our murder-death-cult is NOT about the friction nature has imposed on our species so that life can find a way, right? Nor is it about how we, as Americans, react to our own impulses. No. It’s about the gender gap, it’s about roles, it’s about…

Do we live by the gun or is it just a lust for violence? Our impulses feed on something. Six people were killed, three with a knife, three with three different handguns, because a man, that is, the male part of our species, doesn’t like women? And BTW. I had no clue that there were websites to help men in their hate of women. Talk about reacting to impulses! And it doesn’t stop there. Hyperlinked to the hate sites are more sites with even more hate. Wow. What’s gonna happen next? Am I gonna do a Google and find sites promoting racial supremacy? Will I find sites promoting the over throw of government? Will I find sites that show people, when paid enough money, or their addictions dictate it, doing anything in front of a camera with their bodies? And the beat goes on, baby.

So let me try to get this straight. America is trying to find answers. It’s trying to find answers to its impulses. It is most certainly not trying to find answers to questions. It’s not really questioning anything. And why? Because there’s hate on the Interwebnets. (Sigh.) Indeed, dear worst-reader. It/we are trying to find answers to why we slaughter each other–even though it’s more than obvious that we really don’t give a shit. There is never any national soul searching. There is never any real debate. And why? Because, well, there’s hate published on the Interwebnets. And there are snuff films. And there’s porn. Oh. And men treat women badly. Which brings me to a(nother) worst-question. Why can’t humans navigate the chasm that separates the subject from the object? Why can’t humans figure out that love is not always a verb because for the other half it’s always a noun? Answer? We are infantil and we haven’t figured out how to grow up yet. More on that in a sec. Let me throw a daffodil wrench in the machine of natural order and put it like Chuck Palahniuk would put it.

  1. Where is my Vietnam?
  2. This is what happens when men are raised by women.

While Tyler Durden is explaining the rules of Fight Club he asks question #1. When I heard the question in the movie something went off in my head (it didn’t go off in my head when I read the book). It reminded me of the day when I had to register for the draft. BTW, back then the Vietnam war was still fresh–or at least it hadn’t yet been replaced by our next worldly, empirical endeavour. There were still stories of POWs not brought home and movies like Deer Hunter scared the bejeezus out of me. Thank goodness I learned to appreciate Apocalypse Now, though. Nomatter. I registered for the draft, although I seem to recall not putting a check mark in one of the boxes indicating which branch of service I preferred. I guess I was trying to confuse my recruiters as much as I was confused. And the 1980s were just around the corner. We didn’t know it then but the greed-mongering culture that so many yearned for–and history proving they/we got exactly what we deserved–was about to happen. And I’m way off subject. Sorry.

Now don’t quote me on this because it’s been a long time since I read or watched Fight Club. But #2 is another very telling and profound thing Tyler Durden says (and I paraphrase heavily). He says that men are raised by women. What a grave error in society. Except for one thing. I was raised by a woman. In fact, to this day I live by them. And. I own guns. And I’ve been somewhat violent in this life. But Palahniuk coded something in his text. What is implied with #2 is that society has a very serious problem–a problem that goes far beyond the implications of a bunch of dysfunctional males that get their kicks by beating themselves up in front of a crowd of the like-minded. And so it’s very, very clear:

What happens to a society when it has lost its ability to nurture and cultivate life?

Our history will look back and say: this is how you become a death-cult. Instinct kicks in. The true face of human nature reveals itself? Survival and money and reality emanating from reality-TV is all that’s left. With that in mind, let’s move on from Palahniuk and check out our next best thing in explaining it all–you know, for the dumbed-down.

Ever see the movie Magnolia? This movie took me for a really weird loop, dear worst-reader. To this day I wonder if the boundaries of fiction and reality (in film) will ever converge so well again. But the thing that makes this movie, not unlike Fight Club, relevant to what Ms. Marcotte misses, is the creep factor that has become part of (real) life itself. Every character in the movie Magnolia, as is the case with so many characters in our real world, is a solid, worthy, mystifying creep. Are creeps the next stage of human evolution? Am I the only one–after watching weird clips on you tube and then watching clips from Magnolia and then watching clips from life–to see Elliot Rodger in Frank TJ Mackey’s audience? But I digress.

Welcome to your future. Welcome to a world where brokenness is the standard. Brokenness, btw, is not as Ms. Marcotte states. It is not about men thinking women are broken. Like in Fight Club Rodgers is the byproduct of Disney fairy-demons fighting the mind-fuck of consuming-to-survive society that fails upwards. We are a people and a place that is stuck in the realm of infantilism–forced to live among robber barons, war-mongers and ideological miscreants. This, dear worst-reader, is all we have. It is who we are. And on top of it all, there is no need to grow up–we have proven that time and time again. And so we blame things written or things said or even, in this sad case, things done. Oh well. The blame game is a game like any other game. Yes. Game. Game of love, lust, ownership, betrayal, procreation, romance and love. Oh wait. I said that. Nomatter. We are the game only the few and far between ever really get to play. Good luck. And don’t forget to buy something today or watch Oprah or Ellen or whatever takes you away.