The Neurotic Monkey's Guide to Survival

"These STILL aren't my pants!"

Friday, November 12, 2004

....And I Feel Fine

Long time no write. Also long time no one's reading this except for me...so really, what's the harm? For all of my imaginary regular readers, I apologize for the tardiness, but I assure it was for a good cause.

You see...I was in despair.

Yes, even ME, Dean the Neurotic Monkey, can find himself in despair every now and then. But this was more than the cultural desperation that was spreading across the Blue State Liberals like rumors of bad acid at a '96 Phish Concert. When the elections results came in, and Fox News blared their victory trumpets like the archangel Gabriel on Judgment Day, I felt something in me drop away.

Was it that tingling of my Dean Sense when I leave my jacket at work? No...although I had left my jacket at work.

Was it the feeling of the pizza in my stomach as my body forcibly reminded me, again, that I'm lactose intolerant? No...because I had eaten Mexican and I'm only human dammit! that stuff would tear through even Superman's colon like the Tasmanian Devil going through a pinata.

No, that decomposing sensation in my chest was the feeling that all hope was lost. Everything that I ever believed in this world or the next was a lie, and more importantly, it was all worthless unfounded dreams. I felt that last glimmer of hope that hung from my heart, a gaudy Christmas tree ornament that I made in shop class and really is an eyesore and why does it need to weigh 15 pounds more than the branch it's on? but it has a certain Retarded Child charm to it, wither away and die. Now this might sound either familiar or pathetic depending on your worldview or personality, so perhaps some background is necessary.

Mine is largely an imaginary life. I don't mean that I'm delusional and still think that my girlfriend is Tiffani Amber-Thiessen she's just been a little distant lately and that's why she hasn't written or called me. No, not that type of imaginary. I mean that a lot of my mental power is used in coming up with stories, or imagining variations on my day to day life. I want to be a writer, and part of that is so I can put some of this "creative" (some would call "schizophrenic") energy to use. I picture a land of superheroes and gods, mythical creatures and daring adventures; interesting characters with their own flaws and merits. It's just how my mind is wired. I have dreams for myself, some are manifested as tales that need to be set to paper, others are merely fantasies of what my future could hold, and still others are just simple delusions which help me survive the failed punchline that is my life.

Now this Imaginary Side of my Personality, let's call it my "Calvin&Hobbes" side, is completely and totally intertwined with every aspect of my life and personality. It helps me survive my lame ass job, it helps me aspire for a lucrative and creative career; it keeps me from feeling like shit because I am bereft of ladyfriends, while it encourages me to hold out for that great Romance that will make all of my other friends retch out of how cutesy we will be. It is also tied into my ideas on morality, ethics, religion, personal philosophy, and lastly politics.

I'm not part of the moral majority, that Conservative Spiritual Streak that paints the middle of our country red like some sort of macabre Oreo. This shouldn't come as a shock to anybody who reads my lil verbal vomitus and notices that the word "fuck" is sprinkled about liberally, profane chicken pox across the skin of my erudite paragraphs. Also, few morally/spiritually conservative people I know would spend their time debating on whether or not Robin is a willing participant in Batman's sexual escapades or if he's merely an innocent pawn caught up in the tawdry and dangerous games that adults play. Furthermore, I happen to despise our Current President. I'm not trying to start a debate...with any of my non-existent readers. But it's just how I feel. I think he represents everything that is currently wrong with politics and this country. Does that mean that I thought Kerry represented everything great about politics and this country? No. In fact, I partially think he's a great symbol for everything wrong with the democratic party: unsure, unfocused, scared, and can't quite connect or communicate well with most regular folks.

But still, I hoped for Kerry. I voted for Kerry. I wanted him to win. I wanted him to legalize gay marriage; so my gay friends can get married if they want to, or merely so they don't feel like they are third class citizens who have to justify their love with a legal battle. I wanted him to re-establish a friendlier and more inclusionary international climate, considering that every time we become isolationistic, bad shit happens. I wanted him to cut out all of the spin and revisionist history that the Bush administration does, where they rewrite their own past and press conferences and everyone just buys it because it's repeated over and over again. In all honesty, I wanted Kerry to somehow prove me wrong, slough off his skin as a mediocre uncommitted pansy and just ring in all of the things that I believed and restore this country to a beauty that it may or may not have once possessed. But he never got that chance. Instead, Bush won. And I felt like shit.

There are two things our parents tell all of us. They say one when they want us to feel emboldened and ready to take on the world, and they say the other whenever they want us to quit our bitching.
"You can be anything you want in this world."
and
"Life isn't fair."

Mixed messages? Perhaps. You can have dreams. You can have aspirations. But don't bank on them. I fell into a rut. I commiserated with friends. There was idle discussion of Fiji and Canada...Perhaps some sort of oddly ironic and pretty hilarious Liberal Junta on the white house (seriously, who the hell would see that coming?). But over all, with all of our doomsaying and screams of "Fuck!" and "AHHHH!!!" with a dash of "they screwed us!" and "GOD DAMMIT!"...We were all hurting inside. Now I don't really hang out with conservatives that much...that's not to say that I avoid them, but I suppose I just don't have the same interest as most of them. The only conservatives I know are relatives, and the one rule in this family is don't talk about politics or you can find yourself out of someone's will lickity split. So perhaps surrounding myself with all of this misery didn't help matters. But it did help worsen how I felt.

I looked back and I thought I saw all of these young people, all gung-ho to change the world. I saw the biggest Global Protest in the history of the world (although, really, when has there ever been any other Global Protests? I mean I know a lot of people all walked out of "Gigli" around the same time...but that was hardly organized). I witnessed people getting amped up on television, and in the papers, and exit polls favoring my guy. And then I saw that all of that desire for change, all of that enthusiasm and energy was for jack shit. It was meaningless. All it did was showcase just how divided we really are. How people can call themselves a Christian, but not love their neighbor just because that neighbor happens to look fabulous in tight jeans. Or how a person can call himself an open minded liberal, but won't spend any time listening to the opposing side or giving any credence to a conservative argument. I saw all of this, and I immediately thought "We're fucked."

I started to give up on being a writer. I started to give up my plans to move to the west coast. Maybe just get some sort of job doing something I don't really give a shit about, but make money, live in NYC with all of my friends, and just not care so much. Stop setting myself up for failure. It's like after a girlfriend you've been seeing for a long time dumps you, you want to take a break from relationships for a while...if only to tend to your wounds. Well, I wanted to take a break from my dreams. I realized that being a starving artist is not only pathetic (which I already knew) but also doesn't help anyone.

But then I thought about it some more, and with the same curseword strewn attitude, I said "Fuck it." I am continuing in my dream. I will pursue what I always wanted...I will not give up on my dreams, no matter how ridiculous or sad they are. Why? Because this is nothing.

Now, admittedly, all the signs are in place:
1)Red Sox win World Series on a night with a lunar eclipse.
2) Bush wins the popular vote and the country is nearly in two.
3) Yasir Arafat Dies
4) Bright Eyes have both the #1 and #2 spots on the Billboard Top 40 Singles Chart.

This could be the end of the world. It could be nigh. Yes, I know Ashcroft is out and that Gonzales is in and he'll make Ashcroft look like Paul Lynde on BeWitched. Yes we are probably all gonna be horribly screwed in some form or another in the next four years. Maybe the next twelve years. Maybe Jesus is coming. Or nuclear war. Or The Polar Express does well at the box office. Or something far worse. Maybe. But so what?

As a species we've handled everything this universe and its various gods could throw at us. And through it all, we've endured. Ruthless Warlords, Emperors, Dictators have malevolently ruled and enslaved and persecuted people. But still we endure. Diseases and Natural Disasters ravage our bodies and our lands, and still we endure. War breaks out, and claims untold numbers of lives. New religions sprout up and seek to divide and conquer us. But nothing can stop us. Let's say something will wipe out a lot of us...but those who died will survive in legends. Apotheosis will kick in, and suddenly they will all become like gods. Let's say Atlantis existed, look at all of those guys now? You could've been a lowly shoe maker on that island, pretty much a nothing, and now you're part of a legendary island that is used in numerous hackneyed sci-fi and fantasy plots and one kick-ass Donovan song. Whatever this world throws at us, we will survive.

Maybe not all of us. Some will die. But that's okay. It happens. And if death to you is a big deal and signals an end to all things, then what the fuck are you doing reading some asswipe's blog? Get out there and live, jackass. If death is the final curtain on your consciousness or soul or whatever, then you better be racking up experience points like an overzealous Nerd playing marathon games of Dungeons & Dragons.

Bush isn't a good leader. I'm fairly certain he will go down as one of (if not THE) worst presidents in history. I'm worried about Big Business and The Religious Right taking over this nation. I'm worried that more people will needlessly die, or that a draft will be instituted and those who cannot afford to have voices protest their enrollment will find themselves in harm's way. There's many things I'm worried about...but dammit all, I have a feeling that we'll get by. We always do. And if it is the end of the world, then at least we all get to go together. And for those of us that voted for Kerry, we can be smug and look at everyone else and say, "I don't want to say 'I told you so' but Rhode Island has been obliterated..." But by that point I hope we will have moved on into our next phase of evolution...Namely hyper-evolved and intellectual Chicken Viking Warriors. Of course, that could just be another dream of mine. But at least I'm still allowing my mind to wander a little bit.

This was a long rant, and if anyone out there actually read it, then respond. And thanks for bearing with me as I delivered it. All I can say is that I believe that we'll all get through it all right. TV will still suck. 90% of movies will still suck. Popular music will be in the shitter. Retro trends won't go away. We'll still be bitterly divided along the "Tastes Great"/"Less Filling" lines. Things will be like they always have been.

And it's not perfect. It's not the ideal. It's certainly not something fit for a dream.

But it's enough to get me through the day; and just enough to allow me to sing a lil ditty and not worry so damn much.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Not only do I read your blog, yours, my dear, is the ONLY blog I read. So keep on truckin. That being said, they found Atlantis, did you hear? That is all. Love you!

12:28 AM  

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