“Don’t blame the victim,” people say, out of habit. The phrase has become a truism. Victims are without blame. Bad things happened to them, and it’s not their fault.
Wait. That doesn’t sound right, does it? Aren’t there situations when a victim deserves some share of the blame? If you’re in a bad situation, and you can escape, but you choose not to, are you really a victim? Are you entirely without blame? Shouldn’t you shoulder some of the responsibility for your situation?
(Now watch me carefully avoid gender issues, and talk specifically about lesbian relationships. And while we are in parentheses, let me add that all of the following dialogue is made-up. These are not actual quotes, although the stories are real.)
A woman – let’s call her “Susan” – calls up a sex and relationship advice show. Susan says she’s about to move in with her girlfriend, “Tabitha”. The two of them were packing some things at Susan’s apartment, getting ready for the move in a month or two. One of the items being packed was a shoe box full of old photographs.
“What’s this?” Tabitha asked.
“Oh, it’s old photos of people I know,” Susan said. “Old flames, old relationships. I haven’t looked at these in years.”
“You need to get rid of these pictures, if you’re going to move in with me.”
“Why?”
“I’m your girlfriend,” Tabitha said. “I should be enough for you now.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m completely serious.”
They had several fights about it, and Tabitha refused to back down on her demand. The photographs had to go.
Susan calls the sex advice show and asks: is Tabitha being reasonable? Is this crazy?
“Oh, and by the way,” Susan adds, “whenever I go away on business trips, Tabitha freaks out, convinced I’m having an affair. When I get back, I spend hours convincing her nothing is happening behind her back. Tabitha is jealous of all of my friends, and is starting to scare some of them away. In fact, I think Tabitha just wants me all to herself, out of jealousy and low self-esteem.”
Luckily for Susan, the host of the show is Dan Savage. He’s renowned for his clear, honest talk. He calls Susan and tells her in no uncertain terms:
Do not move in with Tabitha. This is an abusive relationship. Tell Tabitha to get a shrink to help her deal with her jealousy issues and insecurities. If she gets the help she needs, then re-evaluate moving in with her a year from now. If she refuses to get help, if she insists you move in together now, dump her. Save yourself. You are entering a very bad place.
As Savage tries to talk sense to Susan, she hems and haws, and tries to make excuses.
“I hear what you’re saying,” she says, “but Tabitha has had a really tough life. Really tough.”
You are not a social worker, Savage answers. You are not a therapist. Your girlfriend isn’t your pet project. She’s not a fixer-upper. Tabitha needs to get help on her own. You’re supposed to be with her as an equal, whom you love. Tabitha needs to fix herself.
Susan waffles some more, but half-heartedly agrees that maybe Dan Savage is right.
(After he’s done with the call, Dan Savage admits feeling a little guilty. Here’s Susan, struggling with her bully girlfriend Tabitha. And what did Dan do? Try to bully Susan into doing the right thing. Now she’s dealing with two bullies instead of one. All the same, Dan stands by his advice.)
Let’s assume the worst, and imagine that Susan completely ignores the advice she received.
“That guy doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Susan tells herself. “He doesn’t know any of the details. I love Tabitha, and I know we can work through our problems. Tabitha has had a hard life, and I’m not about to abandon her just because she has a temper.”
Susan and Tabitha move in together. The relationship quickly sours. Tabitha is never physically violent, but she comes close, now and then. She’s definitely emotionally abusive, extremely jealous, and constantly demanding reassurances. Susan devotes way too much energy to keeping Tabitha sane. Susan has to constantly be on tiptoes, never knowing what she might do or say that sets Tabitha off. Despite all of Susan’s efforts, Tabitha gets crazier, more jealous, more emotionally unstable.
Say we enter the scene now. We don’t know the past; we know nothing of Susan’s earlier hesitations, or about her calling Dan Savage. What do we see? Who has what role?
Tabitha is the abuser. Susan is the victim.
(I’m trying to keep gender out of this, but maybe I’d better say this: we’d definitely assign the roles of abuser and victim if this relationship involved a cruel man and a suffering woman, instead of two women.)
As the “victim”, is Susan entirely without blame? Of course not. She should have known better, long before entering this relationship. She had misgivings. She got good advice – Dan Savage tried to warn her – and she ignored it.
What if Susan stays in a relationship with Tabitha for years, continuing to be abused and treated poorly? Can we really call her a “victim”? Or, on some level, is she doing this to herself? Tabitha is a monster – there’s no denying it. But shouldn’t Susan take some of the responsibility for her situation? She’s an adult. No matter what her psychological background and predispositions, she made a choice. Every day she stays with Tabitha, she renews that choice.
A week after Susan’s call to Dan Savage, another woman called. She praised Dan for advising Susan not to move in with Tabitha.
“Where were you 15 years ago?” she said, laughing. Then her laugh fell apart and she started to cry. Because 15 years ago, she entered an abusive relationship. She has stayed in it, for 15 long years, and she can’t take it anymore. She has lost all her friends and all her family. All she has is her abusive girlfriend. And she feels trapped.
Listening to her grief was extremely painful; it brought me close to tears. The woman was in agony.
Dan Savage’s advice to this caller was clear: You can escape. You have to escape. Listen to yourself. Listen to how much pain you are in. You have to get out of this situation. Call on your family or your old friends – even if you haven’t spoken to them in years. Tell them you fucked up, that you’re in an abusive relationship, and if they help you, you will make it up to them. You can get out of this. Your life may seem horrible, and you can’t imagine a world where you’re free, but you can be free. And then, once you escape, you can start building a new life for yourself – one where you get to be happy.
I genuinely hope this woman escapes her nightmare. Hearing her pain, even just through a phone call on a podcast, was heart-breaking.
Being in an emotionally abusive relationship creates a sense of powerlessness. There’s this other person, who is crazy, a nightmare, your enemy – but also your lover. You feel like you can’t do anything to escape. You want the relationship to work. This idea gets stuck in your head:
“If only I’m better, if only I work to save this, then things will improve. I have to be the sane one. I can’t make any demands of my partner. They’re under so much stress as it is.”
There are good days, and you feel like things are working out. There are bad days, and you somehow manage to shrug them off – even as things get worse over time.
You get stuck here, in this loop of misery.
If you ever hope to escape, you need to change how you think:
“I’m in a bad situation – but I’m letting this happen. I’m allowing it to exist. I’m not powerless. If I want things to change, I have to do things differently. I can get out of here.”
People say, “Don’t blame the victim.” Ironically enough, the only way to get out of the bad situation is for the victim to accept a small portion of the blame. They have to acknowledge they are doing nothing to change their situation, or that what they’ve done up until now isn’t working. They need to take some responsibility, struggle past that feeling of powerlessness, admit they have some control, and change their world.
Intellectually, none of this seems like a huge revelation to me. My argument strikes me as perfectly logical.
And yet emotionally, it goes against a lot of the things I’ve been taught in life. Some people are disadvantaged, stuck, struggling, but more or less doomed to their state. We make excuses for them. We can’t fault people for the position they find themselves in. “Blaming the victim” is harsh and judgemental and wrong. If you were in their shoes, would you be able to do any better? In some cases, yes, you could – but we’re not supposed to think that.
And we certainly can’t blame ourselves for our own problems. My troubles are caused by genetics, social forces, bureaucracies, things bigger than me. The deck is stacked against me. Nothing is my fault.
You can sum up all of this rationalizing nonsense in that phrase, “Don’t blame the victim.”
If victims really cannot be blamed for their trouble, then all you have to do to “solve” your problem is find a way to call yourself a victim. Someone else is making life hard for you. Whether it’s the government, large corporations, the way your parents raised you – someone else did this to you. Now you can fixate on them, and you’re blameless.
(Let me throw some exceptions out there: in almost all cases, children and rape victims aren’t to blame for what happened to them.)
I’m fat. I can blame all the crappy food in vending machines, McDonald’s, the way my parents fed me, or a hundred other factors. But, in the end, I’m the guy who puts the food in my mouth. So who else can I blame, besides myself? If I want to lose weight, I have to take responsibility for my own actions, and bring about change.
Drug addicts, the poor, workers trapped in dead end jobs, or anyone facing a situation they don’t like are all in the same boat. People need to take responsibility, take some of the blame, for at least some of their situation, and then choose to act differently. They need to throw away their victimhood, their sense of helplessness, and fight.
Forget the idea of not blaming the victim. Instead, think of it this way:
If you’re unhappy, admit you’re unhappy, and do something to pursue happiness.
Everything else is bullshit.
See also:
http://www.zurinstitute.com/victimhood.html
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Friday, June 11, 2010
Creative Rage 3: An Imaginary Conversation
A: I don’t really have any problems. Sure, my childhood sort of sucked, but other people had it worse. I grew up in a house. I had enough food. Why should I think about my pain? Why look at it? Why waste time on it? Instead, I can help people who have it worse, like the homeless.
B: So what you're basically saying is -- why should you wipe your own ass, when the streets are so dirty?
A: What? No, I’m not saying that. What are you talking about?
B: You want to know why you should deal with your past, with your pain? You have personal problems and you know it. You need to deal with them – for the exact same reason you have to wipe your own ass. No one will wipe it for you. It's your pain. It’s your asshole. Nobody wants to deal with your shit. You have to deal with it. You're saying you don't have to clean up your mess, because there are bigger messes out there. So it's okay if you walk around smelling like shit, because 30 miles from here there's a landfill heaped with dirty diapers and rotting fish heads?
A: I don’t smell like shit. I deal with my crap, in my way. I'm saying, I don't have a lot of emotional pain, compared to other people. There is nothing to deal with. My problems are small potatoes.
B: Everybody says that. It’s a way of avoiding their problems.
I met a woman once, and she was telling me a bit about herself. She worked at a store that sold underwear and she was studying at Concordia.
“I guess I’m a bit boring,” she said. “But I guess everyone finds themselves boring.”
And I blurted out, “Not me. I find myself endlessly fascinating. I can’t wait to see what I do next.”
A: Yeah, that sounds like you – you’re a self-centred egomaniac.
B: You’re missing the point. If you find yourself boring, you’re doing something wrong. You should find yourself fascinating. Your problems, your stories, everything about your life is yours. You should find yourself entertaining. If you think you’re boring, small, not worth looking at, then you’re not dealing with you. You’re belittling yourself and who you are. In effect, what you’re saying is, “I’m too boring and small to take seriously.”
A: Sounds like you think I should spend all day wiping my own ass.
B: Well, not all day. No. You need some balance between wiping your ass, and wiping the asses of other people.
A: Helping the homeless and fighting for social justice is important. That’s what I do to help myself. I make the world a better place. I improve my lot by making other people’s lives better. Engaging other people pulls me out of my shell.
B: If you spend your whole life helping others, thinking of others, and you never help yourself, you’ve failed. You’re using other people to avoid dealing with your own problems.
A: I just don’t have time for all that navel-gazing bullshit.
B: Your problems are small, boring. You don’t have time to deal with your problems. How many other excuses do you have? Why are you so mean to yourself? You would help another person in your situation. You do have problems, right? Why not help yourself then? Are you going to spend your whole life, fighting for other people, and never fight for yourself? How can you effectively fight for others, if you can’t fight for yourself?
A: You’re just pushing for people to be selfish and self-centred. It’s disgusting.
B: Am I being selfish? If I deal with my own problems, and make myself a better person, doesn’t that improve everyone’s lives? If you don’t deal with your problems, other people will have to carry your weight. They’ll have to clean up your mess, wipe your ass. When you don’t deal with your own problems, you’re the one that’s being selfish.
A: That’s typical conservative drivel. Be self reliant. Let’s not have a government at all. It’s libertarian nonsense.
B: And I thought you were an anarchist! Aren’t “self reliance” and “no government” exactly what you’re striving for? I know, I know – you’re going to replace government with some kind of collective, not individuals. Hence the difference between libertarians and anarchists.
A: You don’t get any political stuff at all. You’re a fucking idiot.
B: Fine. I never studied political science. But don’t all political parties dream of a world with a social safety net that no one ever needs to use? Isn’t that what the people of all political stripes want?
A: Whatever. I still think you’re being a libertarian, conservative asshole.
B: But self-reliance can have a socialist aspect to it. I heard a Green Party speaker once. He argued that smokers are a drain on the Canadian health care system. Some guy smokes for 20 years, he gets lung cancer, and he expects all of us to pay his medical bills. Why should we? He knew smoking causes cancer. He smoked for years. He should have quit smoking and taken responsibility for his problems, saving us the expense of dealing with his medical problems.
When I heard that, being a non-smoker, I laughed. And I said to myself: “That’s exactly right. Goddamn smokers are assholes. Hang em out to dry.”
And then the speaker went on to say, “Same thing with people who are overweight. They have heart attacks, they get diabetes, they have all kinds of preventable medical problems, if only they would lose weight.”
And I stopped laughing. Because I’m overweight. It’s my problem, and I really don’t want to deal with it.
Or at least, I didn’t want to. But I’ve been dealing with my problems lately. I’ve been looking at my life, trying to improve, getting my act together. You know – what you’d call “being selfish” or “navel gazing”.
Part of that process has involved changing the way I eat. I’m counting calories. And since April 17th, I’ve lost 25 pounds. My goal is to lose 80 pounds by December.
Mind you, I didn’t start losing weight for the betterment of humanity. I was having problems with constipation, and my doctor told me to lose weight. Even then, I didn’t change. I ate more fibre now and then. That helped. But the constipation kept coming back.
Finally, I snapped. I’d had enough of the inconvenience and pain. I grabbed my constipation by the balls and I said, “Look, motherfucker. I’m going to lose weight. I’m going to deal with my problems. So fuck off.”
A: So you’re on a diet -- again. Big fucking deal.
B: It’s not a diet. I’ve changed the way I eat and the way I think about food. I keep a food log online, writing down everything I eat. That makes eating chips or cookies or other crap impossible – because I don’t want to have to write it down. When you start to look at the calories in some foods, it’s disturbing. I used to go to Starbucks and have two oat fudge brownies and a large latte. Now I know better – that little snack is over 1,000 calories.
I’m working out on my elliptical trainer for half an hour almost every morning. I’m walking more. I’m improving myself. I’m wiping my own ass.
A: That’s great, I guess. But it’s still selfish. It has nothing to do with anyone but you.
B: If I’m healthy, my chances of needing heart surgery in my 60s is lessened. People won’t have to carry my load. If getting in to shape is selfish, it’s exactly the sort of selfishness we should promote in people. Why do you think governments have nutrition and anti-smoking programs? If people look after themselves, if they stand on their own two feet, if they’re healthy, and they quit smoking too much, and drinking too much – the world is a better place, and the health care system can focus on other issues. If I deal with my problems and take care of myself, you don’t have to. No one else has to carry my weight.
A: Not everyone is lucky enough to be able to do that. Some people need our help.
B: Of course! And you are one of those people. You’re so eager to be generous with other people, and you’re so stingy with yourself. When you think about your life and your problems, ask yourself, “What would I do to help someone else with my problems?” And then do that thing for yourself. You’re just as worthy of help as anyone else, right?
A: You don’t understand. Your emphasis on helping yourself, taking care of yourself, and positive selfishness – that’s exactly the sort of crap conservative thinkers and capitalists use to perpetuate the slavery of the poor. Everything wrong with the world right now is caused by selfishness. Thinking only about yourself means people don’t band together and fight for social change and social justice. Selfish people think about their cars, their electronic gadgets, their own comfort. They never think about the consequences of their choices.
B: You think so? I think if people genuinely looked at themselves and their own self-interests, they’d be more likely to deal with the real word instead of consumer trappings. All of that STUFF is a distraction from the real work. Fixing yourself, making yourself better, doesn’t necessarily involve BUYING stuff. And look, I’m not telling you to ONLY think of yourself. You need to strike a balance between yourself and the rest of the world.
I think if we get our own shit together, we can then do a better job dealing with the rest of the world. When we get stronger and saner, we becoming a better force for change.
A: I still think I can improve myself by helping other people. Going out, participating in political events, protests, political actions – that’s how I’m improving myself. Don’t you get that?
B: I’m sure that helps you, a little. And I’m not telling you to stop doing any of that. But, just like with consumerism, you’re using it as a distraction. A lot of people are uncomfortable with who they are, their own feelings, their own problems. You’re focusing on the problems of other people to escape your own problems. I did that for years, worrying about other people and neglecting myself. You need to give yourself as much attention and care as you seem to give the homeless.
A: You don’t get it. You don’t understand anything. And you didn’t used to be like this. You’ve really changed.
B: For the better.
A: I think you’ve changed for the worse.
B: That’s fine. You’re allowed to think whatever you want, and do whatever you want. No matter what I say.
Honestly, I don’t know why I keep trying to share my new thinking with you. I guess, in part, it’s because I feel we have common problems. And when I talk about what I’m going through, it helps me understand myself better.
You get angry and swear at me and call me an “Ayn Rand lover”. That makes me laugh. But it also keeps me questioning, thinking, and testing my ideas. The friction is useful.
A: Well, I guess that’s good, as long as you’re still thinking. You need to question these new ideas of yours. Your new found interest in selfishness really disgusts and offends me. It’s boring. I think you’re going the wrong way.
B: And I think you’re going the wrong way. But hey, we can both go whatever way we choose, right? I just worry you’re going to wake up a few years from now, and realize you don’t know who you are, or what you want. You won’t have a career, you won’t have a lover, you won’t have a stable home – all because you spent so much time thinking about other people, and never about yourself. I genuinely worry you will find out you’ve become a vacuum, a void, a hole in space where a person used to be.
A: That’s not going to happen. That’s crazy. I don’t even know why you’d think that.
B: It happened to me. I woke up one day and realized I wasn’t there. I was hanging out with people who couldn't hear me, who wouldn't let me speak. But I’m fixing that. I am in the room now, demanding space.
A: Well, it’s not going to happen to me, this void stuff you're talking about. I don’t need your advice. I can take care of myself.
B: That’s the whole point, isn’t it? I’m not sure you are taking care of yourself. But I hope you’re right. I hope you never feel that way. Waking up to your own emptiness isn't much fun.
A: Sounds like a midlife crisis to me. Typical bourgeois, first world problems.
B: Maybe. But if it's my problem, I'm going to deal with it.
B: So what you're basically saying is -- why should you wipe your own ass, when the streets are so dirty?
A: What? No, I’m not saying that. What are you talking about?
B: You want to know why you should deal with your past, with your pain? You have personal problems and you know it. You need to deal with them – for the exact same reason you have to wipe your own ass. No one will wipe it for you. It's your pain. It’s your asshole. Nobody wants to deal with your shit. You have to deal with it. You're saying you don't have to clean up your mess, because there are bigger messes out there. So it's okay if you walk around smelling like shit, because 30 miles from here there's a landfill heaped with dirty diapers and rotting fish heads?
A: I don’t smell like shit. I deal with my crap, in my way. I'm saying, I don't have a lot of emotional pain, compared to other people. There is nothing to deal with. My problems are small potatoes.
B: Everybody says that. It’s a way of avoiding their problems.
I met a woman once, and she was telling me a bit about herself. She worked at a store that sold underwear and she was studying at Concordia.
“I guess I’m a bit boring,” she said. “But I guess everyone finds themselves boring.”
And I blurted out, “Not me. I find myself endlessly fascinating. I can’t wait to see what I do next.”
A: Yeah, that sounds like you – you’re a self-centred egomaniac.
B: You’re missing the point. If you find yourself boring, you’re doing something wrong. You should find yourself fascinating. Your problems, your stories, everything about your life is yours. You should find yourself entertaining. If you think you’re boring, small, not worth looking at, then you’re not dealing with you. You’re belittling yourself and who you are. In effect, what you’re saying is, “I’m too boring and small to take seriously.”
A: Sounds like you think I should spend all day wiping my own ass.
B: Well, not all day. No. You need some balance between wiping your ass, and wiping the asses of other people.
A: Helping the homeless and fighting for social justice is important. That’s what I do to help myself. I make the world a better place. I improve my lot by making other people’s lives better. Engaging other people pulls me out of my shell.
B: If you spend your whole life helping others, thinking of others, and you never help yourself, you’ve failed. You’re using other people to avoid dealing with your own problems.
A: I just don’t have time for all that navel-gazing bullshit.
B: Your problems are small, boring. You don’t have time to deal with your problems. How many other excuses do you have? Why are you so mean to yourself? You would help another person in your situation. You do have problems, right? Why not help yourself then? Are you going to spend your whole life, fighting for other people, and never fight for yourself? How can you effectively fight for others, if you can’t fight for yourself?
A: You’re just pushing for people to be selfish and self-centred. It’s disgusting.
B: Am I being selfish? If I deal with my own problems, and make myself a better person, doesn’t that improve everyone’s lives? If you don’t deal with your problems, other people will have to carry your weight. They’ll have to clean up your mess, wipe your ass. When you don’t deal with your own problems, you’re the one that’s being selfish.
A: That’s typical conservative drivel. Be self reliant. Let’s not have a government at all. It’s libertarian nonsense.
B: And I thought you were an anarchist! Aren’t “self reliance” and “no government” exactly what you’re striving for? I know, I know – you’re going to replace government with some kind of collective, not individuals. Hence the difference between libertarians and anarchists.
A: You don’t get any political stuff at all. You’re a fucking idiot.
B: Fine. I never studied political science. But don’t all political parties dream of a world with a social safety net that no one ever needs to use? Isn’t that what the people of all political stripes want?
A: Whatever. I still think you’re being a libertarian, conservative asshole.
B: But self-reliance can have a socialist aspect to it. I heard a Green Party speaker once. He argued that smokers are a drain on the Canadian health care system. Some guy smokes for 20 years, he gets lung cancer, and he expects all of us to pay his medical bills. Why should we? He knew smoking causes cancer. He smoked for years. He should have quit smoking and taken responsibility for his problems, saving us the expense of dealing with his medical problems.
When I heard that, being a non-smoker, I laughed. And I said to myself: “That’s exactly right. Goddamn smokers are assholes. Hang em out to dry.”
And then the speaker went on to say, “Same thing with people who are overweight. They have heart attacks, they get diabetes, they have all kinds of preventable medical problems, if only they would lose weight.”
And I stopped laughing. Because I’m overweight. It’s my problem, and I really don’t want to deal with it.
Or at least, I didn’t want to. But I’ve been dealing with my problems lately. I’ve been looking at my life, trying to improve, getting my act together. You know – what you’d call “being selfish” or “navel gazing”.
Part of that process has involved changing the way I eat. I’m counting calories. And since April 17th, I’ve lost 25 pounds. My goal is to lose 80 pounds by December.
Mind you, I didn’t start losing weight for the betterment of humanity. I was having problems with constipation, and my doctor told me to lose weight. Even then, I didn’t change. I ate more fibre now and then. That helped. But the constipation kept coming back.
Finally, I snapped. I’d had enough of the inconvenience and pain. I grabbed my constipation by the balls and I said, “Look, motherfucker. I’m going to lose weight. I’m going to deal with my problems. So fuck off.”
A: So you’re on a diet -- again. Big fucking deal.
B: It’s not a diet. I’ve changed the way I eat and the way I think about food. I keep a food log online, writing down everything I eat. That makes eating chips or cookies or other crap impossible – because I don’t want to have to write it down. When you start to look at the calories in some foods, it’s disturbing. I used to go to Starbucks and have two oat fudge brownies and a large latte. Now I know better – that little snack is over 1,000 calories.
I’m working out on my elliptical trainer for half an hour almost every morning. I’m walking more. I’m improving myself. I’m wiping my own ass.
A: That’s great, I guess. But it’s still selfish. It has nothing to do with anyone but you.
B: If I’m healthy, my chances of needing heart surgery in my 60s is lessened. People won’t have to carry my load. If getting in to shape is selfish, it’s exactly the sort of selfishness we should promote in people. Why do you think governments have nutrition and anti-smoking programs? If people look after themselves, if they stand on their own two feet, if they’re healthy, and they quit smoking too much, and drinking too much – the world is a better place, and the health care system can focus on other issues. If I deal with my problems and take care of myself, you don’t have to. No one else has to carry my weight.
A: Not everyone is lucky enough to be able to do that. Some people need our help.
B: Of course! And you are one of those people. You’re so eager to be generous with other people, and you’re so stingy with yourself. When you think about your life and your problems, ask yourself, “What would I do to help someone else with my problems?” And then do that thing for yourself. You’re just as worthy of help as anyone else, right?
A: You don’t understand. Your emphasis on helping yourself, taking care of yourself, and positive selfishness – that’s exactly the sort of crap conservative thinkers and capitalists use to perpetuate the slavery of the poor. Everything wrong with the world right now is caused by selfishness. Thinking only about yourself means people don’t band together and fight for social change and social justice. Selfish people think about their cars, their electronic gadgets, their own comfort. They never think about the consequences of their choices.
B: You think so? I think if people genuinely looked at themselves and their own self-interests, they’d be more likely to deal with the real word instead of consumer trappings. All of that STUFF is a distraction from the real work. Fixing yourself, making yourself better, doesn’t necessarily involve BUYING stuff. And look, I’m not telling you to ONLY think of yourself. You need to strike a balance between yourself and the rest of the world.
I think if we get our own shit together, we can then do a better job dealing with the rest of the world. When we get stronger and saner, we becoming a better force for change.
A: I still think I can improve myself by helping other people. Going out, participating in political events, protests, political actions – that’s how I’m improving myself. Don’t you get that?
B: I’m sure that helps you, a little. And I’m not telling you to stop doing any of that. But, just like with consumerism, you’re using it as a distraction. A lot of people are uncomfortable with who they are, their own feelings, their own problems. You’re focusing on the problems of other people to escape your own problems. I did that for years, worrying about other people and neglecting myself. You need to give yourself as much attention and care as you seem to give the homeless.
A: You don’t get it. You don’t understand anything. And you didn’t used to be like this. You’ve really changed.
B: For the better.
A: I think you’ve changed for the worse.
B: That’s fine. You’re allowed to think whatever you want, and do whatever you want. No matter what I say.
Honestly, I don’t know why I keep trying to share my new thinking with you. I guess, in part, it’s because I feel we have common problems. And when I talk about what I’m going through, it helps me understand myself better.
You get angry and swear at me and call me an “Ayn Rand lover”. That makes me laugh. But it also keeps me questioning, thinking, and testing my ideas. The friction is useful.
A: Well, I guess that’s good, as long as you’re still thinking. You need to question these new ideas of yours. Your new found interest in selfishness really disgusts and offends me. It’s boring. I think you’re going the wrong way.
B: And I think you’re going the wrong way. But hey, we can both go whatever way we choose, right? I just worry you’re going to wake up a few years from now, and realize you don’t know who you are, or what you want. You won’t have a career, you won’t have a lover, you won’t have a stable home – all because you spent so much time thinking about other people, and never about yourself. I genuinely worry you will find out you’ve become a vacuum, a void, a hole in space where a person used to be.
A: That’s not going to happen. That’s crazy. I don’t even know why you’d think that.
B: It happened to me. I woke up one day and realized I wasn’t there. I was hanging out with people who couldn't hear me, who wouldn't let me speak. But I’m fixing that. I am in the room now, demanding space.
A: Well, it’s not going to happen to me, this void stuff you're talking about. I don’t need your advice. I can take care of myself.
B: That’s the whole point, isn’t it? I’m not sure you are taking care of yourself. But I hope you’re right. I hope you never feel that way. Waking up to your own emptiness isn't much fun.
A: Sounds like a midlife crisis to me. Typical bourgeois, first world problems.
B: Maybe. But if it's my problem, I'm going to deal with it.
Friday, June 04, 2010
Creative Rage 2: an elaboration
Selfishness is bad. That's what we're taught from day one. “Stop thinking about yourself and think about others for a change!” The theory is that most of us are born selfish, and need to be trained to cooperate, share, and care about others. Without this education, we would all be monsters, stabbing each other, hoarding treasure, and eating the poor.
I'm not convinced everyone needs to be taught selflessness. Some of us are pretty selfless already, to a fault. Weak, spineless milquetoasts always find themselves buckling under when someone makes demands. They can’t say no. They swallow their own beliefs and go along with the desires of others. The world is full of such people.
And lately, I'm forced to admit I am one of them. I need to learn how to be more selfish.
"What?” say a few choice people. “That's bullshit! You're one of the most selfish people I know!"
(Okay, okay – let’s be honest: one choice person says this. And he knows who he is.)
No, friend, I'm not selfish. If I appear that way, it's because I often isolate myself from others. I do this to avoid being pressured into doing something I don't want to do. It's difficult to face people and risk being engulfed by their needs. It's easier to hide.
When I get asked for something, I typically find myself overwhelmed with empathy for the point of view of the other person. I used to brag that I can sympathize with any person or position I encounter. Serial killers and child molesters can sway me with their arguments - which is a ridiculous way for me to be.
There are times when empathy ceases to be a benefit and becomes a liability. That point is reached when my own beliefs and desires seem vague and mysterious, but the desires of others make perfect sense. Instead of being an advocate for myself and my own perspective, I end up being an advocate for the person arguing with me.
When an acquaintance asks for a favour, I find myself thinking:
"Well, who am I to say no? Maybe they're right. Maybe their perspective does make more sense than my own. They certainly seem to make sense."
To put it in therapy speak, I have a weak sense of "boundaries". The line between myself and another person is soft, at best.
An example:
"Hey Nik! Do you want to go to some bar, and see some band?"
In my heart, the answer is no. It’s totally not my thing. But I let myself be pressured by the person. I give in. I go along with their desires and ignore my own.
Doing something to support a friend once in a while is noble. The problem is, I find myself giving in every single time I'm asked. I always forget to consider what it is that I want.
It's only later, at the concert, that I grumble quietly to myself. What am I doing here? How did I end up in this situation? I hate this band; everyone around me is drunk; my ears ache from the noise. How did I end up in this position?
I feel angry. I feel like an idiot for doing something I don't want to do. I resent my friend for "dragging me" there. Simultaneously, I feel like I have no real right to complain. No one held a gun to my head. I went of my own free will. My friend didn't do anything wrong. I did.
There's another weird aspect to all of this -- in the past, I have viewed this fault as a strength. My ability to over-empathize once seemed like a talent. “I can empathize with criminals!” The same thing is true of my willingness to accommodate others. I used to think it meant I was a good and supportive friend, who was up for anything. Isn't that something to be admired?
Now I get it. If I constantly give in to the needs and desires of other people, it doesn't make me a good person. It makes me LESS of a person, MORE of a shadow.
Which is why I need to be more selfish. Maybe “selfish” isn’t the right word. Maybe I just need to be more vocal about how I feel and what I want.
For example:
I need a day's notice, minimum, before I can engage in some kind of social activity. That's how I work. You can't just call me and say, "Let's go hang out right now!" I can't do it. I need a day or so to steel myself, for interaction. Why? Because I'm an introvert, and I find being with other people draining. That's how I am, right or wrong, and those are my rules. For now.
Is this unreasonable? I don't think so. But some part of me immediately starts making excuses and arguments -- for other people.
"Why can't you be spontaneous? You can't just get together with me, at a minute's notice? What's wrong with you? There's introverted, and then there's being a stick in the mud. Dude, you need to relax!"
If you're not me, this is a perfectly reasonable argument. But I am me. I know how I work, and I need a day's notice. Sorry.
No, wait. Fuck that. I'm not sorry.
And then there's Ayn Rand.
I hate Ayn Rand. I think she was a lunatic, not to mention something much worse – a bad writer. Unfortunately, she is famous for saying that selfishness is good. And when I talk about boundaries and being true to myself and all of that, I feel like I'm defending the beliefs of Ayn Rand.
(And certain “friends” of mine hear me say, “Maybe people need to be more selfish,” and they start calling me a Randroid. Why? Because those “friends” are actually assholes.)
Let’s be clear – there’s the libertarian view of selfishness, and then there’s just not letting other people walk all over you. Libertarians want as little taxation and government as possible. They want to be left alone -- with their money.
I’m a socialist (more or less) and I recognize the value of taxing the rich and spreading the wealth. Libertarians claim if they were taxed less, they would give more to charity. This strikes me as horseshit. Left to their own devices, the wealthy sit atop piles of gold and defend their wealth with a machine gun.
American Vice-President Joe Biden once famously said that paying taxes is patriotic. He later tried to back away from that statement as quickly as possible. Which is weird, because I think he’s right. If you love something, believe in something, and want to support it, you do so with your heart and your time and your wallet.
No libertarian thinks this way. If Ayn Rand heard me saying this stuff, she’d punch me in the face.
The selfishness I advocate is purely psychological. Stand up for what you believe, and argue your own point of view. Defend yourself. Express yourself.
Trouble is, my overly selfless asshole friends see this as one step closer to Conservative, capitalist, Libertarian madness. Somehow, they miss all the subtle nuances, and jump straight to, “You like Ayn Rand!”
And they say it in that childish teasing tone reserved for school yard taunts.
So let me counter their arguments with a witty pre-emptive strike: Go fuck yourself, you unthinking, pre-programmed fucktards.
How did I become a milquetoast in the first place?
I suspect that’s how we were raised in my family. If someone wanted to go into your room, they did. If they wanted to take all the posters off your walls and give them to a friend, they did. On one memorable occasion, I pissed off one of my brothers (probably by smashing their heads together) and one of them (or both?) pissed on my pillow for revenge. None of these acts resulted in parental consequences of any kind.
Someone summarized our family's insanity with a choice sentence. He meant it to be a compliment, but it’s pretty damning:
"There is no expectation of privacy in the Maack family."
Which means if you tell someone a secret, they're free to share it with anyone.
All of this adds up to one thing: we were raised without boundaries.
Like I said previously, people often mistake their strengths for weaknesses and their weaknesses for strengths. If you’re raised without boundaries, this can seem like a positive thing.
“We can talk about anything with each other. We’re all so close. There’s no small talk in our family. We share everything. We're not like other families, where nothing gets discussed.”
Instead, each person in the family is a bucket of slop, constant spilling their lives into other people, everyone getting mixed together and lost. Everyone is diminished. Nothing ever getting accomplished.
One quick and dirty example: my parents have been at war with each other for as long as I can remember. A parent with a good sense of boundaries would understand that you don’t drag your kids into that fight. My parents regularly shared their grief with us – and expected us to choose sides in their battles. They continue to do this to this very day.
Having a sense of self, being a complete person, having boundaries, means being able to move through the world and make choices. When everyone around you is a potential threat, breaking into your headspace and changing you, you’re in trouble. A person needs to be somewhat self-contained, to be capable of dealing with the world.
While mulling over all of this, I heard a quote which summed it up nicely:
“If I am not for myself, who will be for me? If I am not for others, what am I? And if not now, when?”
-- Rabbi Hillel
Obviously, it’s the first sentence of the quote that interests me most. “If I am not for myself, who will be for me?” Or, to put it another way, if I don’t take myself seriously, why should anyone else?
Strangely, many of us milquetoast-types choke on this idea of “being for ourselves”. There’s this sense that we must always think of others, act for others, BE for others. But I need some balance. If I’m always thinking of the people around me, and never of myself, I can’t really help the people around me. I end up resenting them.
At heart, it all comes back to riding an airplane. When there’s some kind of disaster, and your plane is going down, masks fall out of the ceiling. Parents are always warned to put their oxygen masks on first – THEN put the air mask on their children.
And that, I think, sums it up nicely. You need to look after yourself, so you have the strength to look after the people around you. If you’re a complete mess, chances are good your version of help is just going to make things worse.
I'm not convinced everyone needs to be taught selflessness. Some of us are pretty selfless already, to a fault. Weak, spineless milquetoasts always find themselves buckling under when someone makes demands. They can’t say no. They swallow their own beliefs and go along with the desires of others. The world is full of such people.
And lately, I'm forced to admit I am one of them. I need to learn how to be more selfish.
"What?” say a few choice people. “That's bullshit! You're one of the most selfish people I know!"
(Okay, okay – let’s be honest: one choice person says this. And he knows who he is.)
No, friend, I'm not selfish. If I appear that way, it's because I often isolate myself from others. I do this to avoid being pressured into doing something I don't want to do. It's difficult to face people and risk being engulfed by their needs. It's easier to hide.
When I get asked for something, I typically find myself overwhelmed with empathy for the point of view of the other person. I used to brag that I can sympathize with any person or position I encounter. Serial killers and child molesters can sway me with their arguments - which is a ridiculous way for me to be.
There are times when empathy ceases to be a benefit and becomes a liability. That point is reached when my own beliefs and desires seem vague and mysterious, but the desires of others make perfect sense. Instead of being an advocate for myself and my own perspective, I end up being an advocate for the person arguing with me.
When an acquaintance asks for a favour, I find myself thinking:
"Well, who am I to say no? Maybe they're right. Maybe their perspective does make more sense than my own. They certainly seem to make sense."
To put it in therapy speak, I have a weak sense of "boundaries". The line between myself and another person is soft, at best.
An example:
"Hey Nik! Do you want to go to some bar, and see some band?"
In my heart, the answer is no. It’s totally not my thing. But I let myself be pressured by the person. I give in. I go along with their desires and ignore my own.
Doing something to support a friend once in a while is noble. The problem is, I find myself giving in every single time I'm asked. I always forget to consider what it is that I want.
It's only later, at the concert, that I grumble quietly to myself. What am I doing here? How did I end up in this situation? I hate this band; everyone around me is drunk; my ears ache from the noise. How did I end up in this position?
I feel angry. I feel like an idiot for doing something I don't want to do. I resent my friend for "dragging me" there. Simultaneously, I feel like I have no real right to complain. No one held a gun to my head. I went of my own free will. My friend didn't do anything wrong. I did.
There's another weird aspect to all of this -- in the past, I have viewed this fault as a strength. My ability to over-empathize once seemed like a talent. “I can empathize with criminals!” The same thing is true of my willingness to accommodate others. I used to think it meant I was a good and supportive friend, who was up for anything. Isn't that something to be admired?
Now I get it. If I constantly give in to the needs and desires of other people, it doesn't make me a good person. It makes me LESS of a person, MORE of a shadow.
Which is why I need to be more selfish. Maybe “selfish” isn’t the right word. Maybe I just need to be more vocal about how I feel and what I want.
For example:
I need a day's notice, minimum, before I can engage in some kind of social activity. That's how I work. You can't just call me and say, "Let's go hang out right now!" I can't do it. I need a day or so to steel myself, for interaction. Why? Because I'm an introvert, and I find being with other people draining. That's how I am, right or wrong, and those are my rules. For now.
Is this unreasonable? I don't think so. But some part of me immediately starts making excuses and arguments -- for other people.
"Why can't you be spontaneous? You can't just get together with me, at a minute's notice? What's wrong with you? There's introverted, and then there's being a stick in the mud. Dude, you need to relax!"
If you're not me, this is a perfectly reasonable argument. But I am me. I know how I work, and I need a day's notice. Sorry.
No, wait. Fuck that. I'm not sorry.
And then there's Ayn Rand.
I hate Ayn Rand. I think she was a lunatic, not to mention something much worse – a bad writer. Unfortunately, she is famous for saying that selfishness is good. And when I talk about boundaries and being true to myself and all of that, I feel like I'm defending the beliefs of Ayn Rand.
(And certain “friends” of mine hear me say, “Maybe people need to be more selfish,” and they start calling me a Randroid. Why? Because those “friends” are actually assholes.)
Let’s be clear – there’s the libertarian view of selfishness, and then there’s just not letting other people walk all over you. Libertarians want as little taxation and government as possible. They want to be left alone -- with their money.
I’m a socialist (more or less) and I recognize the value of taxing the rich and spreading the wealth. Libertarians claim if they were taxed less, they would give more to charity. This strikes me as horseshit. Left to their own devices, the wealthy sit atop piles of gold and defend their wealth with a machine gun.
American Vice-President Joe Biden once famously said that paying taxes is patriotic. He later tried to back away from that statement as quickly as possible. Which is weird, because I think he’s right. If you love something, believe in something, and want to support it, you do so with your heart and your time and your wallet.
No libertarian thinks this way. If Ayn Rand heard me saying this stuff, she’d punch me in the face.
The selfishness I advocate is purely psychological. Stand up for what you believe, and argue your own point of view. Defend yourself. Express yourself.
Trouble is, my overly selfless asshole friends see this as one step closer to Conservative, capitalist, Libertarian madness. Somehow, they miss all the subtle nuances, and jump straight to, “You like Ayn Rand!”
And they say it in that childish teasing tone reserved for school yard taunts.
So let me counter their arguments with a witty pre-emptive strike: Go fuck yourself, you unthinking, pre-programmed fucktards.
How did I become a milquetoast in the first place?
I suspect that’s how we were raised in my family. If someone wanted to go into your room, they did. If they wanted to take all the posters off your walls and give them to a friend, they did. On one memorable occasion, I pissed off one of my brothers (probably by smashing their heads together) and one of them (or both?) pissed on my pillow for revenge. None of these acts resulted in parental consequences of any kind.
Someone summarized our family's insanity with a choice sentence. He meant it to be a compliment, but it’s pretty damning:
"There is no expectation of privacy in the Maack family."
Which means if you tell someone a secret, they're free to share it with anyone.
All of this adds up to one thing: we were raised without boundaries.
Like I said previously, people often mistake their strengths for weaknesses and their weaknesses for strengths. If you’re raised without boundaries, this can seem like a positive thing.
“We can talk about anything with each other. We’re all so close. There’s no small talk in our family. We share everything. We're not like other families, where nothing gets discussed.”
Instead, each person in the family is a bucket of slop, constant spilling their lives into other people, everyone getting mixed together and lost. Everyone is diminished. Nothing ever getting accomplished.
One quick and dirty example: my parents have been at war with each other for as long as I can remember. A parent with a good sense of boundaries would understand that you don’t drag your kids into that fight. My parents regularly shared their grief with us – and expected us to choose sides in their battles. They continue to do this to this very day.
Having a sense of self, being a complete person, having boundaries, means being able to move through the world and make choices. When everyone around you is a potential threat, breaking into your headspace and changing you, you’re in trouble. A person needs to be somewhat self-contained, to be capable of dealing with the world.
While mulling over all of this, I heard a quote which summed it up nicely:
“If I am not for myself, who will be for me? If I am not for others, what am I? And if not now, when?”
-- Rabbi Hillel
Obviously, it’s the first sentence of the quote that interests me most. “If I am not for myself, who will be for me?” Or, to put it another way, if I don’t take myself seriously, why should anyone else?
Strangely, many of us milquetoast-types choke on this idea of “being for ourselves”. There’s this sense that we must always think of others, act for others, BE for others. But I need some balance. If I’m always thinking of the people around me, and never of myself, I can’t really help the people around me. I end up resenting them.
At heart, it all comes back to riding an airplane. When there’s some kind of disaster, and your plane is going down, masks fall out of the ceiling. Parents are always warned to put their oxygen masks on first – THEN put the air mask on their children.
And that, I think, sums it up nicely. You need to look after yourself, so you have the strength to look after the people around you. If you’re a complete mess, chances are good your version of help is just going to make things worse.
Wednesday, June 02, 2010
Creative Rage
I am angry. I am allowed to be angry. I don’t know what they told you, the people who raised you. They might have said anger is dangerous, or primitive, or simply unacceptable. A lot of people say shit like that nowadays. A lot of people are terrified of anger, and conflict, and aggression.
“If only we could all just get along. Imagine a world without war. Imagine a world at peace.”
Imagine a world of cowardly, bloodless robots who smile, and nod, and bow, and never say what they think or feel, for fear someone somewhere might be offended. Imagine people who always check with their neighbours before they open their mouths.
“Let’s all get along,” is code for, “Why can’t everyone just agree with me and keep their mouths shut?”
When did having your own voice become a crime? When did having aspirations become a sin? When did personal victory become “selling out”? Even the rebels seem to embrace the lowest common denominator.
“Won’t someone think of the poor? Won’t someone think of the sick, the needy? Who will look after the children? Can’t we unite, as a people, for some common cause, and improve the world for all of us?”
We get tied to the feeblest, most broken, most humble, damaged people. They drag us down with their need, their hunger, their desperation. And we call that “being good”.
Won’t someone please think of themselves? Won’t someone please resist the urge to be ooze, melting into the people around them? The crowd always becomes one – a fluid of arms, and legs, and eyes, and teeth, and patches of hair. Weak-willed people, turning into soup, agreeing on every topic, afraid of anything extreme, certain that they are good, so naturally anyone who opposes them is bad.
I will be bad! Watch me. Let me stand up and say, fuck you! Fuck you tiny little things who bleed into each other like squashed cockroaches.
Who will fight me? Who will step forward and argue me point for point, instead of merely attempting to negate me with a label?
“Bourgeois! Middle-class! Consumer!”
Denial is no argument. It’s posturing, escapism. A real argument requires revealing your own weaknesses while stabbing at the weaknesses of others. An exchange of ideas, not just mere condemnation.
“I don’t have to listen to you because you don’t think like me.”
Fuck you, then! If you answer me without hearing me, it’s not really an answer, is it?
Uniqueness! Maybe that’s the concept I’m straining to grasp. People seem so keen to wear down their pointy edges. People are so accommodating, so smooth, so polished. I would rather listen to someone with a scratchy voice that hurts my ear than hear another velvet-throated crooner belt out a love song. Give me that voice of broken glass, that sound that punctures the ear drum. Passionately realistic. Sincerely damaged, flawed, and kicking at the pretty flowers all in a row.
What am I talking about? I’m not sure. It’s there, just beyond the reach of my fingers. It has to do with anger, and heroes, and selfishness, and power, and fighting for something. Not Ayn Rand selfishness. Protecting oneself from others. Having boundaries. Saying to other people…
“No, by god! No, I will not do as you ask! I will not merely agree with you for the sake of politeness! I will fight you! I will take you down! And we both will be better people for the struggle we have with each other! For who are our friends, really? Are they the ones who agree with everything we say, or are they the ones who spar with us passionately, but still call us friends? Who does you a service, and who merely caters to your foibles?”
Too many times, people ask me for something, and I yield. Will I help them move? Will I listen to them cry over a lost boyfriend? Will I accompany them to the prom? Will I feed their goldfish? Will I comb the hair on their back? Will I lend them thousands of dollars? Will I listen to them talk for thirteen hours about a dream they once had about a fish that could talk? Will I do it? Will I?
And I’ve said yes, over and over again. Yes, I will help you. Of course. Why not? You ask for my help, and I give it, and it makes me feel special, and good, and kind, and caring. Only, eventually, I feel like a sucker who doesn’t know how to say NO. I put my life on hold, stick my desires on the back burner, and do as you wish. Over and over again.
Only now I say “NO.”
No, I won’t help you. Not today. I’m tired and I’m pissed off, and I say NO.
So you look hurt, and confused, and you say:
“But, you’re always there for me! You always help me! You always say yes! What’s going on?”
Today’s the day I don’t eat your shit. Take it someplace else. I’m not a saint. I don’t have to always eat your shit. If I say no, maybe someone else will say yes. Or, you know what? Eat your own shit for a change. Get yourself a great big silver spoon and dig into that turd and eat it yourself.
“Oh, you’re so selfish. You won’t eat my shit. Oh, you selfish bastard! You only think of yourself. That’s who you think of, night and day. Yourself.”
Oh my god, I can’t tell you how wrong that is. Do you know how much time and energy and thought I have wasted, thinking about other people and their problems? Do you know how many of your goddamn turds I have swallowed? Not just you, but the turds of everyone in my life. I just smile, pick up that silver spoon, and eat that shit. It’s when I say no, when I turn on you, that you accuse me of selfishness.
“Protect yourself,” a friend warned me recently. “That guy who wants your help? He’s needy. He will latch on to you and suck the life out of you. Protect yourself. Protect your own little family, protect your home. Put up walls. Set rules of engagement. Limit your exposure. Don’t just let him waltz into your life and take over. If you let him, that’s exactly what he’ll do.”
People need to protect themselves, their homes, their thoughts, their feelings. And there’s nothing wrong with any of that.
Oh sure, some of you filthy anarchists will disagree. What about “unconditional love”? What about the “collective”? What about the poor? Can’t we all put our lives on hold and think about someone else for a change? Why have boundaries? Why have rules? Why protect yourself?
Because if you don't protect yourself, you have no self at all. We earn our souls. It's when we draw ourselves together in one place, pile our identity up in a single pile, that we have real strength and can accomplish real things.
You pretend not to understand, you people without boundaries, when I think you do. If you don’t protect yourself, you’ll find yourself saying, “yes,” when every fibre of your being screams, “no!” You’ll be taken over by people and ideologies you disagree with. If you don’t protect yourself, any asshole who comes along can waltz into your head and start rearranging the furniture.
Be hard. Unyielding. Only let in people who have earned your trust and your respect. Doesn’t that make sense?
I know, I know. It makes you feel guilty. Me too. That’s the irony of all of this. We’re taught to be open, accommodating, peaceful, kind, considerate, cooperative, and all that. That's the lesson of Sesame Street and our parents.
"Play nice with your sister and share your toys."
But there are times when you get to keep the toys in your head. You don't always have to share your feelings. Being wide open puts you at risk.
Wouldn't it have been great, if Gordon on Sesame Street shared another lesson?
“Oh, and by the way, there are some exceptions to that cooperation stuff I was telling you about. You might want to protect your turf, too. Don’t just let any asshole have his way. You get to decide who your friends and lovers are. Don’t let people push you around. Stand up for yourself.”
We need to know that shit, and yet, at the same time, it’s so undervalued. And some of us bristle and squirm when we’re reminded of it. Somehow, it feels like a betrayal. And yet it’s quite the opposite – it’s being true to yourself.
So… be angry. Stand your ground. And if someone tells you to eat their shit, say, “NO!”
Fight. Be creatively aggressive.
***
References:
“Creative Aggression: the art of assertive living”, by George Robert Bach and Herb Goldberg, 1974.
“If only we could all just get along. Imagine a world without war. Imagine a world at peace.”
Imagine a world of cowardly, bloodless robots who smile, and nod, and bow, and never say what they think or feel, for fear someone somewhere might be offended. Imagine people who always check with their neighbours before they open their mouths.
“Let’s all get along,” is code for, “Why can’t everyone just agree with me and keep their mouths shut?”
When did having your own voice become a crime? When did having aspirations become a sin? When did personal victory become “selling out”? Even the rebels seem to embrace the lowest common denominator.
“Won’t someone think of the poor? Won’t someone think of the sick, the needy? Who will look after the children? Can’t we unite, as a people, for some common cause, and improve the world for all of us?”
We get tied to the feeblest, most broken, most humble, damaged people. They drag us down with their need, their hunger, their desperation. And we call that “being good”.
Won’t someone please think of themselves? Won’t someone please resist the urge to be ooze, melting into the people around them? The crowd always becomes one – a fluid of arms, and legs, and eyes, and teeth, and patches of hair. Weak-willed people, turning into soup, agreeing on every topic, afraid of anything extreme, certain that they are good, so naturally anyone who opposes them is bad.
I will be bad! Watch me. Let me stand up and say, fuck you! Fuck you tiny little things who bleed into each other like squashed cockroaches.
Who will fight me? Who will step forward and argue me point for point, instead of merely attempting to negate me with a label?
“Bourgeois! Middle-class! Consumer!”
Denial is no argument. It’s posturing, escapism. A real argument requires revealing your own weaknesses while stabbing at the weaknesses of others. An exchange of ideas, not just mere condemnation.
“I don’t have to listen to you because you don’t think like me.”
Fuck you, then! If you answer me without hearing me, it’s not really an answer, is it?
Uniqueness! Maybe that’s the concept I’m straining to grasp. People seem so keen to wear down their pointy edges. People are so accommodating, so smooth, so polished. I would rather listen to someone with a scratchy voice that hurts my ear than hear another velvet-throated crooner belt out a love song. Give me that voice of broken glass, that sound that punctures the ear drum. Passionately realistic. Sincerely damaged, flawed, and kicking at the pretty flowers all in a row.
What am I talking about? I’m not sure. It’s there, just beyond the reach of my fingers. It has to do with anger, and heroes, and selfishness, and power, and fighting for something. Not Ayn Rand selfishness. Protecting oneself from others. Having boundaries. Saying to other people…
“No, by god! No, I will not do as you ask! I will not merely agree with you for the sake of politeness! I will fight you! I will take you down! And we both will be better people for the struggle we have with each other! For who are our friends, really? Are they the ones who agree with everything we say, or are they the ones who spar with us passionately, but still call us friends? Who does you a service, and who merely caters to your foibles?”
Too many times, people ask me for something, and I yield. Will I help them move? Will I listen to them cry over a lost boyfriend? Will I accompany them to the prom? Will I feed their goldfish? Will I comb the hair on their back? Will I lend them thousands of dollars? Will I listen to them talk for thirteen hours about a dream they once had about a fish that could talk? Will I do it? Will I?
And I’ve said yes, over and over again. Yes, I will help you. Of course. Why not? You ask for my help, and I give it, and it makes me feel special, and good, and kind, and caring. Only, eventually, I feel like a sucker who doesn’t know how to say NO. I put my life on hold, stick my desires on the back burner, and do as you wish. Over and over again.
Only now I say “NO.”
No, I won’t help you. Not today. I’m tired and I’m pissed off, and I say NO.
So you look hurt, and confused, and you say:
“But, you’re always there for me! You always help me! You always say yes! What’s going on?”
Today’s the day I don’t eat your shit. Take it someplace else. I’m not a saint. I don’t have to always eat your shit. If I say no, maybe someone else will say yes. Or, you know what? Eat your own shit for a change. Get yourself a great big silver spoon and dig into that turd and eat it yourself.
“Oh, you’re so selfish. You won’t eat my shit. Oh, you selfish bastard! You only think of yourself. That’s who you think of, night and day. Yourself.”
Oh my god, I can’t tell you how wrong that is. Do you know how much time and energy and thought I have wasted, thinking about other people and their problems? Do you know how many of your goddamn turds I have swallowed? Not just you, but the turds of everyone in my life. I just smile, pick up that silver spoon, and eat that shit. It’s when I say no, when I turn on you, that you accuse me of selfishness.
“Protect yourself,” a friend warned me recently. “That guy who wants your help? He’s needy. He will latch on to you and suck the life out of you. Protect yourself. Protect your own little family, protect your home. Put up walls. Set rules of engagement. Limit your exposure. Don’t just let him waltz into your life and take over. If you let him, that’s exactly what he’ll do.”
People need to protect themselves, their homes, their thoughts, their feelings. And there’s nothing wrong with any of that.
Oh sure, some of you filthy anarchists will disagree. What about “unconditional love”? What about the “collective”? What about the poor? Can’t we all put our lives on hold and think about someone else for a change? Why have boundaries? Why have rules? Why protect yourself?
Because if you don't protect yourself, you have no self at all. We earn our souls. It's when we draw ourselves together in one place, pile our identity up in a single pile, that we have real strength and can accomplish real things.
You pretend not to understand, you people without boundaries, when I think you do. If you don’t protect yourself, you’ll find yourself saying, “yes,” when every fibre of your being screams, “no!” You’ll be taken over by people and ideologies you disagree with. If you don’t protect yourself, any asshole who comes along can waltz into your head and start rearranging the furniture.
Be hard. Unyielding. Only let in people who have earned your trust and your respect. Doesn’t that make sense?
I know, I know. It makes you feel guilty. Me too. That’s the irony of all of this. We’re taught to be open, accommodating, peaceful, kind, considerate, cooperative, and all that. That's the lesson of Sesame Street and our parents.
"Play nice with your sister and share your toys."
But there are times when you get to keep the toys in your head. You don't always have to share your feelings. Being wide open puts you at risk.
Wouldn't it have been great, if Gordon on Sesame Street shared another lesson?
“Oh, and by the way, there are some exceptions to that cooperation stuff I was telling you about. You might want to protect your turf, too. Don’t just let any asshole have his way. You get to decide who your friends and lovers are. Don’t let people push you around. Stand up for yourself.”
We need to know that shit, and yet, at the same time, it’s so undervalued. And some of us bristle and squirm when we’re reminded of it. Somehow, it feels like a betrayal. And yet it’s quite the opposite – it’s being true to yourself.
So… be angry. Stand your ground. And if someone tells you to eat their shit, say, “NO!”
Fight. Be creatively aggressive.
***
References:
“Creative Aggression: the art of assertive living”, by George Robert Bach and Herb Goldberg, 1974.
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