Fake it 'til you make it. That's advice I hear far too often. The problem is, if you spend all that energy faking it, how do you ever expect to "make it"? Obviously, you can't. Pretending to be any one thing, be it happy or rich, or you-name-it, doesn't really fool anyone who is more than half awake -- not even yourself. So what is the point of faking it? Why spend all that energy pretending to be something you want to be while not actively working toward that goal?
Faking it is always easier, and people love the easy way out. That's why abridged novels exist. Cliff's Notes. The Internet. Religion. Ease-of-use is how products are sold, and it's how people fool themselves on a daily basis. When you are faking it, you don't have to look to the root of whatever problem it is you are facing. You just ignore it in the hopes it will either go away or become suppressed (hopefully not to appear later, causing you to don some camo, grab few guns and go people hunting). It's a nice thought. It's the kind of thought that kept you awake on Christmas Eve listening for the sounds of hooves on your roof. A nice fantasy and nothing more. The saying shouldn't be "fake it 'til you make it." It should be "fake it until you forget how to fake it and the illusion takes over." There is a huge difference between making it and living a lie, and the fact that people not only don't seem to recognize this, but actively seem to delude themselves into thinking no such thing exists should be troubling. I know I have problems with it.
Granted, many people would call me a pessimist. I think I'm a realist. The reality of me, though, is that I've written off most of humanity as throw-away by-products of a disposable future filled with disposable goals, disposable morals and disposable dreams. People who have a real hard time discerning between art and entertainment, intellect and emotion, logic and magical thinking. I don't have time for these people. I don't care about their problems. I would not call 911 if I saw them in trouble. I can't be bothered to dial because they never tried to dial it for themselves. They pretended to dial and thought help would arrive. And then when things get too "real" (where that line is drawn is hard to tell with people who aren't playing with reality), they freak out, confronted by things they don't understand because they never tried.
What prompted all this? I received an e-mail from a friend saying I was "too negative" and disrupted her "feel good vibes." This is a person I rarely hear from and rarely (thank goodness) engage in any kind of conversation. What had prompted her to send such an e-mail? A Facebook posting of a Whitehouse song. My intent wasn't to disrupt her (or anyone else's) Kelly Ripa life. I posted a song I liked. This woman (really a child emotionally) took some kind of moral offense -- the kind you take when you haven't thought out your own morals and values, but instead "fake them to get them." I promptly removed her from my phone and contact lists, but not before sending off a little message of my own.
"Sorry the song put your "feel good vibes" into a tizzy. That was not my plan. It is, after all, just a song. If I thought a song had that much power over people, I would be posting ones that would cause the hordes to swallow a bottle of pills followed by a full bottle of Vodka, but only because people upset my "feel good vibes." Unfortunately (or fortunately for the masses), no such song exists (though I think anything from today's Top 40 would do it if anything would). So where do we go from here? I hear from you maybe once a year, which is sometimes more than enough. I'll remove you from my phone and from my e-mail list ... with pleasure! You can remove me from your FB friends list; it's too much work from me. Doing this will ensure my "negativity" won't cause you to cry or question anything too much. So long, and thanks for the fish."
Ironically, the song was "Dumping the Fucking Rubbish." Perfect.
3 comments:
i keep telling you that you have power, man. you are the pied piper. you are extraordinary. i'm not being funny when i say those things. so let's whip up a batch of kool aid and git 'er done, my friend. the fuzzy feelers can partake first.
i guess that wasn't very nice of me. i'm going to publish it anyway. cheers!
Fuck reality. Let us hide in our delusions, our illusions, our drunkenness. Reality is so very real and once the veil of illusion is torn away there is nothing on the other side, except maybe pain. Without Jesus and the bible there is no reality, the lines get fuzzy (the slope slippery) and we slip/fall into madness; Hell. Repent Doug!
With brutality and bloodshed for all...
If I had the magical means (Bible or not) to induce a mass suicide, I doubt I would take the time because even wiping them out still isn't worth my time. They will only be replaced. Now, what I am inclined to do is let them fall by the wayside. Not dial 911. Not pull over to see if the person who blew by me yapping on the cell phone and has now flipped over because they got loose on the shoulder is all right. I will let nature have its way with them as much as possible. Their cheap entertainment value has been cashed in. I don't feel they owe me, but nor do I feel I owe them anything. Let go and let God. Me? I believe in the power of disease and firearms.
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