For Background Extras in TV and Movies, High Heels Are Still a Sexist Double Standard

male female feet high heels shoes dance floor disco

There are unavoidable occupational hazards out there in the modern American workplace but having to wear high heels should not be one of them.

If this is not self-evident already, let’s recall that:

— Wearing high heels leads to significant long term damage to one’s orthopedic health, causing a lot of pain in the process.

— Other than stroking our dysmorphic sense of aesthetics, high heels are useless in the workplace. Wearing heels does not enhance productivity of any particular task. On the contrary, high heels impede most physical performance as they literally limit one’s ability to walk.

— Wearing high heels is expected only from women, making it a sexist requirement and I have a problem with that.

Being a freelance writer, I don’t even have to put pants on every day, never mind formal footwear. So, I have kind of forgotten that high heels were a “thing” out there, still forced on women as part of their professional uniform. That is until I started moonlighting in the show business which turned out to be a “shoe business” I cannot abide by.

New York City is basically a real-size movie set for many Hollywood productions. And so, to break up the isolated, sedentary work cycle of the home office, I occasionally sign up as a non-union “background extra” for TV shows and movies.

Even though the pay is nothing to write home about, there is no denying that it’s a fascinating scene. You get a behind-the-curtain look at how movie magic is made. The sets are amazing, the logistics of production are awe-inspiring and the background extras are a funky bunch of New York dwellers that are fun to get to know and to observe.

Sure, the hours are dismal: you can easily start at 6 a.m. and go for fourteen hours. And then need to come back at 7 a.m. the next day and do it all over again. Your time is divided between shooting the actual scenes and the be-ready-at-any-moment waiting outside the set to be called back in. Many hours of this can be quite grueling, without opportunity to sit down for long stretches of time and involving uncomfortably cold or hot temperatures.

But I can work with all that!! Because, frankly, the life of an NYC freelance writer / language translator is no less intense than the show biz — but with none of the ego dividends! My schedule can be erratic, gigs come in spurts and, when they do, I go on deadline-driven writing / researching binges for days and nights non-stop. During those peaks, I can get pretty underslept and malnourished, while the rest of the time is filled with mounting anxiety about what’s next. These are the occupational hazards of what I do.

In comparison, ten-plus hours on the movie set is not so bad! Being a background extra is all about physicality, energy, attitude and doing what one is told. I get to use my attention span for following instructions and getting into the spirit of the scene, not generating knowledge or catching subtle errors. This kind of work allows my overactive brain to rest and I gratefully welcome the relief.

But, you guys, I just can’t with the fucking high heels!

I realize it’s cinema and it’s all about things appearing exactly right. But is it fair to expect people (ahem women) to wreck their orthopedic health for an illusion? We shouldn’t risk it for anything, ideally, but definitely not for the sake of being a visually pleasing blur in the background of a 1-second shot. At near-minimum wage. With no benefits.

The last movie shoot I did involved a very high-energy dance scene that took several hours to wrap up. It required a prior fitting during which I was assigned a pair of 4.5 inch high heel boots that could have only been concocted by Satan himself on a day he was in a particularly foul mood.

But actually, those torture devices posing as shoes were made by a certain well-known New York fashion designer who shall not be named for purely comedic purposes. Instead, he will be referred to by an alias created from scrambling his first and last name: Space Zon.

And so, I wonder if Space Zon ever tried on his own creations. Mr. Zon is a fashionable man, known around town for wearing heeled footwear himself  — just nothing like the towering beartraps he crafts for women.

Mind you, 4.5 inch heels might not even be the end of the world, if they are remotely designed for human functionality. But these puppies were super unbalanced in the heel and if that weren’t barbaric enough, the toes were pointed up.

I invite everyone reading this right now to take a moment to do a mock recreation of this scenario with your own foot:

—  First, stand on your tiptoes where the foot is at about an 80-degree angle upwards from the toes.

— Now, try to stretch those all-your-weight-bearing toes UPWARDS.

A physical near-impossibility, no? But women wear crazy footwear like this all the time! Yet, I guarantee you, we wouldn’t do this to ourselves without social pressures or financial incentives. Even sexual masochists might want to keep away from shoes like these. Knee surgery is not sexy and neither are the bills.

Anyway, at the fitting, after trying on the abominable Space Zon boots, I asked the wardrobe people to please give me something more humane. But because the outfits had already been lined up and photographed, they were not keen to switch out the boots and assured me that I would be fine. “You look absolutely killer in them,” they said, as if that helped. Hearing the word “killer”, I actually imagined myself tumbling dramatically down the movie set stairs to my death, Space Zon smarmily smiling and waving buh-bye at me from the top of the staircase…

I’ve never had any beef with this particular designer but now that I’ve had the personal displeasure of wearing one of your creations, you’re on my radar, Space Zon. Consider yourself my **arch** nemesis…

I went home after that fitting session with major anxiety welling up. I knew for a fact that agony was coming my way on the day of the shoot — and that there would be hell to pay afterwards. I spent the next week buying up knee and ankle support sleeves and rubbing crazy amounts of castor oil into my joints.

Each day leading up to the shoot, the nervousness got worse. And the anger started creeping in too. How the hell is it even legal to expect people to sacrifice their bodies for this bullshit??

And this is where the gender inequality is apparent: male extras do not have to decide between working and injuring themselves or not working at all — but it’s a choice women in the same position have to make on the daily.

You be the judge. There are both men and women on the set of a movie shoot, alternating between acting and standing around for hours waiting to be called in. But one group is doing it in loafers and athletic flats, while most members of the other group are teetering on stilt-like foot contraptions. For at least ten hours straight. Can it really be said that the two groups are working the same job? Seems like one of them is laboring harder and, more importantly, in a hazardous environment.

They say American women make only 79 cents on a man’s dollar (well, that’s a statistic about white women, while African American, Native American and Latina women make even less than that…) But it’s not just the salary: it’s health compromises that figure into the wage gap equation too. In this particular job as a non-unionized background extra in the film / TV industry, while both men and women get paid the same [pittance], the women are doing lasting damage to their bodies that will, in no uncertain terms, cost them more money down the road!

Back to the movie set. My worry was completely confirmed on the day of the shoot: the boots did not get any more wearable since I tried them on during fitting. Everyone was directed to act wildly enthusiastic. The whole time I was hobble-hopping around that dance floor with an ecstatic smile plastered across my face, my mind was going:

…OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT

OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD

JUST PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

DON’T LET ME FALL

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT…

It wasn’t even about the pain, which was considerable but, like most women, I’m used to grinning and dissociating myself from whatever is going on “down yonder in the foot regions”. It was about the very real possibility of wiping out on that dance floor because either one or both of my ankles would eventually snap to the side and bring me down. Or I could very easily slip or be pushed by another dancer — and these leather foot binds were NOT made for regaining one’s balance, were they, Mr. Space Zon? Gravity is fake news and equilibrium is overrated anyway.

Could I have spoken up some more? Yes. And risk being branded a problematic presence on the set. The pressure to do what one is told on a mega-budget movie set cannot be overstated. It crackles through the air like electricity. If superstar leading actors like Uma Thurman can be bullied into doing a stunt she knew would get her injured, what chance is there for the rest of us?

Extras are really there to be animated furniture. Talking on or off the set is not in the job description. Complaining gums up the rapid-fire works of the filming dynamics. It is pretty understood that you just suck it up and do what you gotta do. It’s true: the crew has a lot to pay attention to and babysitting extras isn’t part of the plan (and most of the time they are quite gracious about it.)

And I am very down with cooperating and staying the hell out of everyone’s way. But the bottom line is that it was dangerous for me to spend hours dancing in the cruel Space Zon hellboots and though, by some miracle, I didn’t take a spill that night, I added more damage to my joints.

Since that time, I only sign up for the dowdier background roles, where I am allowed to bring my own shoes that are not high heels. As you can imagine, this cuts down my options significantly.

But, like I said, I just can’t with the high heels, not anymore. I spent over a decade of my physical prime running around in skyscraper pumps that would put RuPaul’s drag queen brigade to shame. I was that chick on the dance floor doing pirouettes in breakneck platforms. Because catering to the male gaze was the default behavior at the time and I was classically too immature to not be flattered by the attention and too shortsighted to care about future health fallout.

And then there is the fact that, until recent years, flats were not an available retail option for young women: ladies’ footwear almost always had some sort of unnatural elevation, it was just a question of degree of discomfort.

But now, we have sophisticated foams, gels and goos to cushion our overworked extremities!! And kick-ass athletic footwear. And I’m sure attractive “feminine” shoes could also be designed with better materials and health priorities in mind (are you listening, Space Zon & Co.?) No one should subject themselves to torture by bad footwear when memory foam technology exists. I love it so much, I even have a marketing slogan for them:

“It’s Memory Foam — or Go Hoam!”

Memory Foam, if you’re reading this, it’s my humble gift to you for enhancing my mobility.

For what it’s worth, even pampered celebrities are giving up high heels because the self-abuse is too much. Of all people, Victoria Beckham, the poster child for strappy stilettos, has tossed the pumps for flats and seems pretty unashamed about it. Is this the Apocalypse?? Or is it that, once women mature out of needing to please everyone, they can take a critical look at all the unhealthy, self-destructive vanity practices they engage in to impress men and “society at large” and decide that they are over it?

Well, that’s one part of it. The other, sadder, factor is that after many years of mistreatment our limbs just give out and refuse to function under stressful, unnatural conditions, leaving us no choice but to start wearing “comfort shoes”…

And so, it’s pretty much good-bye to being a film extra for me. Being that I am not even an actor, this is mercifully not a big deal, though I’m pretty bummed to have to give up work over sexist double-standards.

One upside: not having to suffer through any more bone-bending squeezewear by the likes of Space Zon and his sadistic fashionati colleagues.

If there is a Hell, I hope they spend an eternity there walking around on 4.5 inch iron spikes nailed directly into the bottoms of their feet and wearing sausage casing from actual sausages that is several sizes too small to breathe or move in… I mean, that’s actually still not as painful as what their models have to endure on the runway, but let’s be generous with our hell-wishing.

Russian Elections 2018 Viral Video Analysis: Putin Is Never Named But All Other Candidates Are Clearly “the Wrong One”

My previous post was about a recent controversial Russian election video that went viral and caused quite a stir within the Russian-speaking Internet. The satirical clip implores every citizen to vote, by threatening an alternative future, in which symbols of Western liberalism and Soviet conservatism are collided into the “worst case scenario” that will surely happen if Russians abstain from voting and let the wrong candidate take the presidency. Here is the video again:

After a more thorough re-watching of the video and reading up on the election candidates, the symbols of the “doomed future” are beginning to make more sense to me.

The verdict: it is a pro-Putin video after all. How can I tell?

For one, all I have to do is read comments under my own YouTube posting of this video: whether people love it or hate it, they assume it’s pro-Putin — which is consistent with the trend I’ve seen around the internet. And Putin supporters and sympathizers definitely claim this propaganda video as their own. Well, them plus every kind of international troll, to be more accurate. Just a moment ago I received another notification from YouTube: “Uncle Adolf commented: ‘I’ve watched this 6 times today and counting. It’s just too good!'” Now, I would likely succumb to soul-crushing cognitive dissonance, if it turned out that YouTube member “Uncle Adolf” uses anything other than a photo of Hitler or a swastika as his avatar, but — *whew* — of course it’s a photo of Hitler with a swastika on his arm…

Another giveaway is that the video’s main cast includes well-known faces. To use the classical joke formula — in [Soviet] Russia, the role plays the actor. Translation: if you want to have a job as an entertainer, be pro-establishment. Mainstream actors would not have likely agreed to participate in this video if it had been put out by the incumbent dictator’s opposition — it’s too risky to their careers and reputations.

But mainly, I believe that this video is meant to endorse Putin because all other candidates are, one way or another, referenced in the worst case scenario presented in the video. Basically, in addition to Vladimir Putin, who is amusingly categorized as an “independent” candidate, you have seven electoral candidates that represent several other positions — namely: communist, liberal and, well, the inane political stylings of Vladimir Zhirinovskiy — the batshit bonkers leader of the ultranationalistic LDPR party who belongs in an ideological league of his own.

And so, here is the break-down of the video clip imagery:

The “imbecilic” school uniform of the son, so eerily reminiscent of Soviet-era “young pioneer” uniform — that’s the sign and consequence of electing one of the Communist candidates: Pavel Grudinin or Maxim Suraykin. There is also the bathroom scene where the protagonist tries to hide from all the people in his house and hears the PA announcement that toilet visits are limited. This, too, is an intentional flashback to the infamous socialist “communal apartments”, with multiple families crammed into the same living quarters, forced to share the kitchen and the bathroom with dozens of apartment-mates with no hope of privacy (and no end of drunken conflicts.) It was, indeed, a nightmare and it makes sense that it would be used as a scare tactic to prevent senior citizens from letting their USSR nostalgia guide their vote.

The arrogant “foster gay” obscenely eating a banana in the lead character’s kitchen — that’s your “horrifying” future if you cast your ballot for the liberals — presumably represented by Ksenia Sobchak (but really — it’s aimed at the phantom of the one candidate that would likely be fighting for the LGBTQ rights of the nation, but who was barred from the elections: Alexei Navalny). The dark-skinned soldier inserted elsewhere in the video is another subtle implication that the USA and western Europe are advancing on Russia with their ridiculous ideas of “diversity”. Better vote for the “right” candidate before you, too, are forced into tolerating humans that don’t look or live like you, pal.

One of the things that shocks the video’s protagonist during his “worst case scenario of not voting” dream is his son’s request for a huge amount of money to pay for private security at school. I take this as a stab at the entrepreneurs among the candidates: sure, Russia is a thriving capitalist paradise, but you don’t want it to get out of control — tsk-tsk, hint-hint, nudge-nudge, Boris Titov, candidate representing the Growth Party…

Finally, the cartoonishly absurd General who alternates between dabbing and enforcing the military draft until the age of 60 — that’s what you get if you vote for Vladimir Zhirinovsky. Which is oddly on point. The threat seems extra exaggerated, until you read up on this gentleman’s plans to “improve” the Motherland in the twenty first century — such as reconstituting the Soviet Union, circa 1985. It is the only part of this obnoxious video I have to agree with: this belligerent fossil Zhirinovsky is off his everloving rocker! (I mean, they all are, but this guy… ufffff…)

In fact, allow me to leave you with an election video Maestro Zhirinovsky put out himself back in 2012 (he’s runs in every election) — to give you an idea of the messages he sends. I have translated and subtitled the video into English — but the visuals are pretty powerful on their own…

(warning — cruelty to animals)

Happy voting, everybody.

P.S. For more information, check out the full list and descriptions of Russian Elections 2018 candidates and their platforms.

Why Louis C.K.’s Apology Is Not the Worst Thing Ever and Is Beside the Point Anyway

Louis C.K. Apology

A public debate has emerged about whether or not Louis C.K.’s owning of his sexual improprieties constitutes a “real” apology. Now, I’m a semantic nit-picker to a fault and I am aware of the issues with his statement — but in all fairness I must ask — what, precisely, would constitute a “proper” apology here?

I suspect the answer is: nothing really. Because no apology is good or sincere enough at this juncture of history — especially in a world where everyone has a speech writer on call. Let’s face it: we would not even be reading one from Louis C.K., had it not been forced out of him by brute public exposure. Only post-apology actions will show if this person is true or false — and we are not there yet.

The way today’s social and public information channels operate, personal events and pubic trends tend to become conflated into one obnoxious media stream of finger-pointing. We are outraged all the time (which makes sense, because a lot of things are, in fact, outrageous) — and we keep waiting to be handed a tangible relief from all this infuriation. And that means that sometimes we expect too much from a public apology, forgetting that it does not undo damage or redeem motive — and it is in no way guaranteed to make us feel better.

This is what’s happening with Louis C.K.’s admission of culpability in inappropriate sexual behavior: the public statement he released failed to put many people’s minds at peace and, in many cases, made them even angrier.

It is understandable: he done royally f-ed up, there is no denying that. Though I would never put him in same company as sleazebag Weinstein, it is true that Louis C.K.’s case is part of the same trend of powerful men subjecting their colleagues and underlings to unwanted sexual advances that are harmful and long-lasting in ways these gentlemen lack the maturity and intelligence to contemplate.

Some people fault C.K. for not explicitly saying “sorry” but in my understanding, he still communicated strong remorse (perhaps not as humbly as some would have preferred.) But since when is saying “I’m sorry” the golden standard for sincerity? On the contrary, those words have served many a lazy apologizer as the perfect cop-out from putting any active thought into the sentiment.

Then, C.K.’s critics take issue with his lamenting how heavy it is to live with the knowledge that he hurt so many people: he should not be making it about himself, they claim, he should focus on the victims.

But wait a minute — aren’t shame and angst exactly what we want to see from a truly repentant individual?? When someone has hurt us, don’t we want to witness them suffer pangs of guilt and crumble under the realization of how awful they had been? Is that not, basically, the only gratification we can hope for from an apology, considering that the past is irreversible?

I am by no means suggesting we should stop scrutinizing the language of our public figures and villains-du-jour but, in this particular instance, it occurs to me that there is probably not much Louis C.K. could have written that would be received as a redeeming apology.

In part, this is because many of us have considered this person specifically to be an ally to women and have held him up to a high standard of self-awareness. So we feel extra betrayed and duped.

It is doubtful that anyone has ever looked at Harvey Weinstein and said: “What?? That guy is a sexual predator?? You’d never know it, why, with that lovable face and innocent posture!” Nor does it sound like anybody with a body has ever felt particularly “safe” around Weinstein. But Louis C.K. was Our Guy, dammit, our Patron Saint of “He Gets It”. It is unsettling to find out that someone you thought was “secure to be around” is a dud. For many people, instances of sexual misconduct were with those whom they trusted most — and this whole Louis C.K. revelation is a painful confirmation of the harsh lessons learned from those traumatic experiences: a.) “good people” are capable of “bad things” and b.) no matter how friendly, kind, enlightened and gentle some people seem, it does not make them safe-safe when no one else is watching.

But another reason why we are hating on Louis C.K.’s apology is not about him per se: it has to do with the projections of our accumulated need for a scapegoat for all the degrading sexism and abuses of power so many of us experience in our personal lives. His happens to be the only decent guilt-owning statement to come out of Hollywood since the scandals broke — but if we are holding him responsible for the entire Hollywood sex abuse ring of rich scrotumheads, plus every predatory schmuck we had to individually fend off — then, in that context, the apology is, indeed, quite  insufficient

Louis C.K. has some ‘splaining to do to the people in his life that he has hurt. But let us quit picking apart his statement, as if there was more to be done on that front and acknowledge the sadder truth, fellow involuntary members of the #metoo club: no apology from a disgraced celebrity is enough to right the wrongs we’ve suffered, nor to quell the rage we feel for the ways we have been mistreated and dismissed, individually and collectively, for lifetimes and generations on end.

Simply put, there is no such thing as a satisfactory apology for historically systematic human abuses such as slavery or sexual assault because:

— it’s too bloody late for just an apology

— the apology in no way ensures that the abuse will stop

I reckon, they can all keep their soggy sorry’s (though it serves no one to reject sincere attempts at expressing remorse.) It would be encouraging to see a radical reprogramming in attitude, an earnest investment into empathy and a proactive civic involvement, which entails never abusing power via violating sexual boundaries again and having a zero tolerance  toward others doing the same.

Come on, brahs, you are so good at inciting each other into atrocity — let’s see if you can pressure one another into decency.

ELECTION 2016 H A N G O V E R: I’VE HAD WORSE

So… Maybe it’s because I anticipated this outcome for months and had time to freak out and, eventually, make some sort of peace with it — but I just don’t feel so crushed by Trump winning. Like so many others following the election countdown, I felt my brain overheat, couldn’t stop cursing and had the dissociative sensation of being transported into the Bizarro World. But it was not due to surprise that Trump was winning — it was more of a weary “groundhog day” effect of watching your gloomy predictions play out, as you idly stand by saying “yup”. Maybe if I scream “I told you so” at my TV a few more times…

The surprising part is that, a day later, things don’t feel as bad as I thought they would. For one, there is just the sense of relief that [this particular part of] the circus is finally over, for better or worse. *Exhale*

Then, the embittered cynic in me is kind of amused by all the shocked arm-wringing in my own “camp”. I get that people are traumatized. I am too. But none of what happened was unforeseeable or unpreventable. So, people who feel that Trump’s victory came out of nowhere, this is a wake-up call, and not to martyrdom but to ignorance. “We had no idea! Guess we live in our own world here in the North East / West Coast,” is being said a lot. Shouldn’t this revelation be more humbling? Elitist obliviousness is nothing to shrug off as no big deal. It played the key part in the outcome of this election.

Instead, social media is blowing up with  “OMG, I feel so disillusioned and betrayed that half of my compatriots are INHUMANE MORONS!” We are the 47-ish percent of the voting population that imagined themselves to be a shoo-in majority, and we’re calling them — the winning side — stupid?? Then again, they are a pushy majority who believe themselves to be the persecuted minority. Up is down, left is right. I won’t lie, the irony of it all has its own perverse beauty.

they're so stupid that i didn't see them coming

They’re SO stupid that I didn’t see them coming!

There is also a part of me that is kind of curious to see what happens next. We know all the terrible predictions — but what if there’s something positive there too? I mean, we are familiar with good progressive intentions leading to bad unintended consequences. Maybe in the Bizarro World, the narrow-minded, self-serving motivations of our leader will accidentally backfire with spectacular goodwill and prosperity for all?

Finally, I don’t know about you, but I’m just happy we didn’t get bombed. Concerns of explosions and active shooters have become a routine part of public commuting and space-sharing these days — and the election day was extra tense. Granted, the heightened anxiety does not stop New Yorkers from crawling all over the city like ants day and night, but I, for one, could do without the apocalyptic dread and the nagging anticipation that something is about to blow up beneath me. Talk about irony? As a child in the Soviet Union, I grew up expecting those damn Americans to drop the nukes on us any day. Lifetimes later, here I am, an American, waiting for those sneaky Russians to go off the deep end on us. And ISIS. And psycho locals. Great time to be alive, people.

Nonetheless, this fatalist is optimistic 🙂 There is room for unprecedented social unity and solidarity to grow from all this — though, perhaps not as a flower blossoming in a richly manicured garden, but as a wild mushroom materializing from the decomposing matter in cow dung. It might be random and kinda gnarly but also organic and maybe even magic.

ROCK 'N TROLL

GIRLY DRINKS DON’T MAKE YOU A WIMP — BUT CODDLING YOUR MASCULINITY DOES

manlydrinkerpussy

Consider this scene from an NYC bar, witnessed just a few days ago:

Man: Hey, I’m getting a drink — you want one?

Woman: Yeah, an energy drink please.

M: An energy drink?????? Ugh… I don’t want to order that, it’s fucking embarrassing!

W: Why? That’s what I want.

M: It’s emasculating.

W: Emasculation is a myth.

M: Then get it yourself.

W: Alrighty then, I will.

M: Can you order my drink, while you’re at it?

Honestly, I thought that people have caught on to the ridiculousness of claiming emasculation. Don’t they get that the concept itself is wrought with internal contradiction? If you’re such a strong, independent, in-control dude, no one has the power to strip you of those things by definition. If holding a non-alcoholic drink in your hand for 30 seconds or coming in contact with something pink renders you completely demoralized, I hate to break it to you, but you are a weak, weak individual.

I cannot fathom being asked a mundane favor (especially after I explicitly offered to be of service) — and then, being like, “Nah, what you want / need is too lame and doing this for you will make me look too uncool to complete strangers surrounding us. So, uh, no.”

What’s happening here is not a degradation of a man’s dignity. A “man’s dignity”, after all, is just human dignity, applicable to everyone, not just men.

What’s happening is taken-for-granted privilege (is there any other kind?). Men have been socialized to feel entitled to say yes or no to others at whim. Having not been taught to doubt himself or invest into a bit of introspection (e.g.: why do I feel threatened by the color pink?), this pseudo-masculine type is not spiritually equipped to confront the roots of his uneasiness. All he knows is that he is uncomfortable and that it is someone else’s fault. Things he does not like or understand are simply “unbecoming” of him.

To bring this back to the opening example: refusing a woman a drink because it’s too “foofy” and then, in the same breath, asking her to get him one. If “hypocrite” is a type of masculinity, then you’ve got it up the wazoo, buddy. Just drop the pretense that women are anything more than a social accessory to you. Here’s the simple formula favored by such “gentlemen”, which, sadly applies to a much wider range of real-life scenarios than just drink-fetching and purse-holding:

  1. Pretends to be courteous by offering to do something for a woman;
  2. When she indicates a choice he does not understand or approve of, feels free to deny her request, judgmentally putting her down along the way;
  3. Thinks nothing of asking the woman to do the exact thing for him that he just refused to do for her;
  4. Gets furious if the woman does not comply.

What you are, dear cis men who use the “emasculation” excuse, are insecure and lazy. You rely on your delusion of grandeur for getting out of cleaning or serving others. You hide behind it to justify being a half-assed parent. You reach for it to cover up your ignorance of the female anatomy and unwillingness to learn to be a giving lover. You punish women for your own feelings of meekness and smallness next to other pseudo-manly-men, fooled by their empty, shallow fronting. The notion that desired masculinity is predicated on “not being like a woman” is a crock of shit you are still joyfully feeding from, while the rest of us have to put up with the stench.

COMMON MYTHS ABOUT THE “GOOD OLD DAYS” YOU HAVE TO BE A LITTLE BABY TO BELIEVE

“Make America Great Again”, eh?

Sure, it is tempting to yearn for the good old days. Most of us do it when we feel dissatisfied with the present or anxious about the future, especially as we age and the grass seems wilted and rotten in the “here and now” and crisp and glossy on the other side of the time-space continuum fence.

It is only human nature to revise and embellish the past to fit our wishful thinking. But there exists a treacherous slippery slope, when people actually start believing those rosy dreams of the wondrously charmed past and let those delusions reflect too negatively on their perception of the present. You hear people “reminiscing” about times before they were even born, convinced that those were the best years — especially compared to the shitshow of modern realities.

simpsons-perfectpast

Watching TV reruns and hearing our politicians and media peons proclaim the end of morality, this nebulous “back then” comes off as a simpler and a fairer place. “Back in the day”, everyone was doing great-o: families stayed together, small businesses thrived, lawyers were honest, bankers were generous, the police were friendly and young people were just so gosh darn polite.

“Not like today”, we gripe to ourselves, “Not like this bleak, dickful world I must occupy, a victim of cruel timing!! I belong in an era when everyone knew how to work, how to love, how to live! But certainly not in this cesspool of weak, ignorant, apathetic morons!!!”

Well, my friend, you might want to start drinking or toking to loosen yourself up, cause these loathsome nincompoop contemporaries of yours are actually as good as it gets! And so is the theater of the absurd we call modern life. As hard as it is to believe, the world, in all its supreme crappiness, has never been safer or gentler. Not because the now is great but because the before was even more obnoxious. Let’s walk through the five most frequent laments for the “good old days” heard from your garden-variety crabby citizen — and debunk them for the fairy tales they are.

MYTH #5: TODAY’S WORLD IS SO VIOLENT – WOULDN’T IT BE GREAT TO GET BACK TO THE MORE PEACEFUL TIME IN OUR PAST?

Most of us are horrified by the onslaught of narratives, images and sounds of violence piping out of everywhere. It feels like the world is unraveling with gratuitous brutality and is about to reach a critical mass of FUBAR-ness that will result in “Michael-Bay-and-James-Cameron-had-a-baby” level of planetary wipe-out. In times like this, it is instructive to remember that our species’ rap sheet is actually improving.

It is a relief, of sorts, to know that our century does not hold a monopoly on human cruelty: people have been joyfully offing each other for thousands of years with impressive creativity and gusto. Despite emerging science making mass annihilation more possible than ever, we actually do less physical damage to each other today than in past eras.[1] The modern unprecedented advancement in information technology makes conflict and injustice more visible rather than more prevalent.

goodnews-tortureless2

 It is increasingly easy to feel like the walls are caving in and the sky is falling but let’s not overlook the silver lining on the noxious crudplatter that is our modern life.  At the very least, we have reached a level of civilization when we can begin to theoretically conceive of a fair, just, safe society. We have laws for complex notions such as “privacy”;  we have words like “ethics” and “inhumane” at our disposal to use in public debates on topics such as “Is it wrong to torture?”

Those public conversations did not exist before! The civil rights of “bad guys” have not always drawn so much interest and empathy from the general public, you know 🙂 And “the unwashed masses” were not always invited to participate in discussions or decisions of any real importance.

The bottom line is: for most of human history, you really had to be a one-percenter to feel secure from being driven off the land, maraudered, enslaved and violated.  Everyone else was in a tight race for survival, vulnerable to exploitation and oppression. The power elite got to live it up until they were “accidentally” poisoned by their own kin or casually dumped to rot away in a dungeon. And, occasionally, the rabble would throw down a revolution and behead everyone rich and fancy. So, no one was safe, really.

history-yuno-lurn2

Clearly, humans are still a very aggressive species, but today, some of our violent nature is seeped by “wars” we wage on the virtual battlefields. Instead of hitting each other with sticks and rocks, people express their anger and fear by furiously typing out profanities on anonymous discussion boards, bullying peers or stalking love interests’ social media accounts. Instead of going outside and picking a fight with a rando, intoxicated tough guys have to option to log on to Facebook and rip into some poor bastard who committed the ultimate treachery of not fact-checking their memes before posting. “I don’t care that you raised me, Grandma, you’re a fucking liberal fascist scum for “liking” O’Bummer’s speech! Gawd, how do these douchebags survive getting out of bed?”

So, perhaps we are just as violent in our minds, but not as much in our deeds. Online trolling is the lazy and / or cowardly person’s bar brawl. As luck would have it, there are many, many lazy cowards out there.

dontfeedit-beit

MYTH #4: BACK IN THE DAY, PEOPLE TREATED EACH OTHER WITH RESPECT

No one will insist that today’s world is a glowing bastion of mutual respect and simple dignity. But to suggest that it was any better in the olden days is to erase all the blood and human tragedy of the hellish struggles for civil rights and basic life necessities denied to the majority of the world’s population by the very few in power.

In the United States, unless you are a white male of the upper class, you have no reason to long for the status quo of yore because all those old-fashioned courtesies the “yore” is so fondly remembered for would not have been available to you. But even if you are a wealthy Caucasian male, wishing for those days reflects quite poorly on your character. Are you suggesting you actually want to go back to the days of legal slavery, overt misogyny, religious morality police, child labor, etc.?

Because that’s a pretty damning thing to admit to wishing for. When you say that people aren’t respectful like they used to be, what you really mean is that you’re not being given “due” reverence as the undisputed master of the planet and every living thing in it, solely on the basis of the imaginary formula: low melanin + Y chromosome = *winning!*. The fact that your entitled ass doesn’t get automatic, unearned respect anymore is a heartening sign that the world is getting better, not worse.

norespect-dangerfield

      Maybe don’t be insufferable?

MYTH #3: KIDS TODAY ARE UNEDUCATED, MANNERLESS, ANTI-SOCIAL IMBECILES

This should be common knowledge, but let’s repeat it anyway, for the older crowd, god bless them: there has never been a single cohort of aging adults that did not consider the young people of their day to be the sure sign of the impending apocalypse! Those arrogant, crusty little blah blah blah blah *trail off* “This was, surely, not at all the case when I was a child – we were all thoughtful, well-behaved youngsters who worshiped and obeyed our parents.”

Of course you were, Dearie. You also always did the right thing and said all your prayers, so it’s shocking that God would punish you with these (check the rant that applies to your generation):

___ arrogant, defiant, oversexed, drugged up, barely literate little shits

___ pathetic, anti-social, vanilla pansy-ass, attention-deficient, barely literate little shits

thinkofthechildren-picard

The irony of ragging on their own spawn for being doomed, incompetent idiots seems to be wasted on parents who, after all, popped out and raised those funky creatures. And who, pray tell, came up with all that technology that you claim is sapping their brains and social skills? Stop blaming the inventions of the brilliant and/or evil minds of your own contemporaries on your unsuspecting offspring, people!

And while we are at it, let’s back off on holding them responsible for all the ills of the universe. Remember, you once inherited this turd of a world from your own parents! So, it seems hypocritical and mean to gloat to the next generation, like: “Ewww, you’re holding a turd! Way to catch a turd, dumbass!” Like you don’t know where they got the turd. From you. They got the turd from you.

To be perfectly clear, the young people of today are, indeed, arrogant, entitled little shits — but so were you and your parents and their parents and so on and so forth, to the dawn of human existence, so let’s zip it already.

MYTH #2: IN THE PAST, PEOPLE KNEW HOW TO LOVE EACH OTHER MORE

In today’s USA, approximately half of marriages end in divorce. This is a statistic many people find depressing and threateningly reflective of their own dwindling chances at romantic bliss. It’s true, divorce numbers have never been higher but let’s rid ourselves of the false premise that continued marriage equals a wholesome, “good-for-you” marriage.

Comfort, security, routine — marriage is designed to provide those things. At the same time, it is perfectly possible to be married and quite miserable until your dying day — and it becomes highly probable if you only get one chance to get it right. An entrenched sense of settlement, combined with social fears, unwillingness to change oneself and the hesitation to take a risk and “end up alone”: those are the guiding reasons why many people remain in marriages, not love, devotion or happiness.

howmarriagesend

Even if people had more technically “durable” marriages in the past than today, it sure as hell was not because they knew the secret to keeping passionate love alive for all eternity any more than us schmucks of today. It was for two decidedly un-warm-and-fuzzy reasons:

1) people needed to stay bonded for life out of socio-economic necessities and / or

2) marriage was compulsory and divorce was either completely illegal or socially stigmatized to the point where it was not a real option.

So, kiddies, instead of bemoaning the death of Love as we know it, be grateful for the unlimited opportunity to find a new lease on life and fulfillment. High divorce rates are actually a sign that the search for true love is quite alive: people are willing to leave their current partner and upset their established routines, identities and social lives — just to give themselves a chance at finding “the right one”, the fools.

Pretty romantic, no?

MYTH #1: WHEN *I* WAS YOUNG, THE WORLD WAS A BETTER PLACE

Who, among us, isn’t guilty of strolling down the ole’ memory lane and yearning for the magic of childhood? This tendency is so strong in humans that we start mourning the passing of our youth, while still in it.

21pilots-goodolddays-text

Go ahead, indulge in nostalgia — just don’t confuse the deeply personal experience of being a child with the historical time period that coincided with it.

Listening to some folks talk, they seem to genuinely believe that “back then”, life was objectively more exciting and full of opportunities, and that food tasted better and the air smelled fresher. Suuuure — and people and objects were much larger and distances were farther apart too  😆

In fact, the world had been aflame all along. It is just that your young brain was, first, too underdeveloped, sheltered and naive and, later, too drunk, high, horny and generally overstimulated to pick up on all the misery and atrocity surrounding you. If obliviousness shielded us from reality, all children and drunks would be immortal.

The truth is, the world of our youth was full of sudden possibilities because WE were full of untapped potential and it still remained to be seen what we would do with all those natural gifts. Then, somehow, you find yourself a grownup — with a hefty baggage of rejections, betrayals and losses and the lingering aftertaste of humble pie on your breath. Whether or not you are doing “well” for yourself, by a certain age you realize that adulthood is not the smooth ride of wish fulfillment you once imagined.

So, of course, it’s nice to long for the “good old days” of boundless energy, trust, the delight of having so much to discover in the world. Underneath it all, we all long to be a clean slate, free from responsibility and unburdened by disappointment — in essence, to be an innocent baby again. Our mouths are grumbling “back in my day” but our brains are sputtering “goo-goo, gaa-gaa”.

Buck up disgruntled Gen-X-ers and jaded Millennials! There’s a “teaching moment” and  a self-bettering opportunity in all this infantile snot-wallowing. Next time you get the urge to miss them “good old days”, ask yourself: how do I feel about my life today? What is so unsatisfactory / disillusioning about my present that I’m willing to invent a fake past to distract myself from it?

The good news is that there is plenty of wonder and magic and “good” left in the world for all of us to tap — it just has to be accessed from the advanced spiritual plane of gratitude and empathy, afforded by experience accumulated through life. The less-good news is that, while aging bears much fruit in the way of anxiety and cynicism, it in no way guarantees maturity or wisdom, so… Good luck with that, let me know how it works out for you — and I’ll do the same…

 

[1] For a detailed history and analysis, check out Steven Pinker’s “The Better Angels of Our Nature: Why Violence Has Declined.” (Public Library)

CONSUMED WITH GUILT OVER OVER-CONSUMPTION

Garbage in Ipanema, one of the wealthiest neighborboods in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

Does anyone else suffer from crippling sense of helplessness and guilt about being a pathetic hypocrite in a society of unapologetically wasteful over-consumers?

I try hard but I can’t help being wasteful and it’s looking more and more like a “damned if I do / damned if I don’t” type of situation. Everything that is mass produced comes in quadruple packaging, so even when you don’t buy many things, you still end up with a lot of non-perishable byproducts. So much of this packaging is beautiful and useful — but when you try to hold on to them for re-use or art projects, you end up with a bit of a “hoarding” situation — since the volume of incoming “parts” is never-ending.

Then, to throw away or even recycle a perfectly usable high-quality plastic container or glass vessel is the other option. Which is wasteful! To me, it feels like I did not “honor” this object enough — by ignoring its longevity and utility. Big props to Marx about the whole “alienation” observation. I have come to believe that “alienation” is a two-fold truth:

 — the laborer / farmer / craftsperson is no longer in touch with the fruits of their work, as well as appreciation from the buyers — and this disconnect (alienation) from their creations cause mental anguish and makes it an inhumane way to work;

the consumer is disconnected from the product’s originators / creators completely (with literally, several layers of packaging): temporally (when was this made?) geographically where was this made?), socially (who made this?) and morally, in the sense that the consumer feels no duty to value the labor and the material that went into the production of an object. Many times, machines assemble our wares and the parts that are assembled by humans, well, it’s best not to know the complete story, if you don’t want to feel like a monster for buying and using this stuff.

Well, I do feel like a friggin’ monster and it is not making me a better person, only making it hard to enjoy life. Despite painstaking reusing, recycling and distributing goods among friends and donation centers, I am still consuming a heck of a lot of stuff and resources: the food I end up wasting, the convenient wipes/towels/tissues/napkins of various kinds that make cleaning so much easier, the disposable bags / plates / cups – things I reuse but toss sooner rather than later, etc., etc., etc.

Things become more complicated when we zoom out from the singular wastefulness of one person or one item to the surrounding system of self-perpetuating wastefulness on a much larger scale. Every time I recycle a piece of glass or plastic, I use water (a precious resource) to clean it out and it takes fuel-powered transport (using up gasoline AND polluting the environment) to deliver it to the recycling plant which uses a godawful amount of electricity to process it. Obviously, there will be some kind of trade-off no matter what we do, but the current system in place is not efficient enough — and not thoroughly networked among corresponding industries — to be sustainable.

Overconsumption weights heavy on my heart and mind, to the point of causing OCD-like distress. Almost each time I throw something into the garbage that’s not organic matter, some recess of my mind summons the image of this thing rotting away in a landfill for centuries / thousands of years. I also can’t help but picture some poor creature hopelessly ensnared, dying a slow painful death inside some superfluous piece of plastic I carelessly tossed into the trash (forcing me to obsessively cut up and shred “tangly” garbage.) This type of thinking is paralyzing as there is no solution to alleviate the problem and my mind races in a loop, unquiet.

Thus, the “big picture” only adds an element of futility and despair to the processes. I spend inordinate amount of breaking down and sorting waste — all with an acute awareness of the fact that my “contribution” is such a tiny drop in the bucket relative to negligent residential buildings, companies and factories funneling unimaginable amounts of waste into our soil, water and air every minute of every day. It is a special kind of torment to feel guilty for being a part of this wasteful culture but helpless to turn it around. Contemplating one’s feebleness in the face of a gloomy future is a major bummer for mental health. Living with the perpetual feeling of being an asshole is not good for morale.

And so, I feel disappointed with myself for not doing more and more and more to cut out the human, natural and resource exploitation from my consumption habits but it is not realistic!! Everything that I can afford is made by some quasi-indentured laborer – quite possibly underaged – “somewhere else” not in the U.S. I resent ad campaigns that capitalize on people’s sense of moral superiority by fooling them into thinking they are “saving the world one dollar at a time” with their consumer power. I do not need my shopping to make me feel like I am “rescuing” someone by “participating” in a “social cause”! How about I just want my shopping to be blood and tear and rape and pillage free!!!!

It is frustrating, being a captive of this lifestyle. As an urban person with neither much access to “nature”, nor appropriate skills with agriculture, I cannot simply quit going to the supermarket and subsist off the land, as some people will be quick to advise. In many parts of the U.S., you have to be quite rich to be a “conscientious consumer” (e.g. pay very high prices for organic / humanely harvested food, clothes made in USA or France or Italy, non-mass-produced home furnishings and wares, etc.). Or – you have to devote all your waking hours to managing this sustainable lifestyle: in addition to cultivating food, you’ll need to learn to sew your own clothes and synthesize your own antibiotics and develop all kinds of other specialized skills and knowledge nobody can be expected to just “pick up” as needed.

If all involved factions pulled together into a unified, synergized alliance, we could set up a super-streamlined infrastructure in which all recyclable materials would be collected, funneled to proper facilities and processed into new, also completely recyclable things. The best part is that it would be mutually profitable for all parties: the manufacturers, the government, the consumers, etc. It would, however, require the kind of cooperation and reorganization of priorities for the common good we cannot currently expect from our corrupt rulers and politicians. It would also mean that the rest of us have to suck it up and make an honest committment to reducing the production and consumption of useless and frivolous crap and start paying attention to finite natural resources we are pillaging as if there is no tomorrow. Also a tough sell…

Having thought about this a lot, I am willing to give up quite a few “luxuries” of modern living and have a simpler life. And I imagine there are things I will be more reluctant to relinquish from my life but, so what, I’ll adjust. But here is the thing: we may soon not have a choice in the matter anyway. In the not far off future, the problems of today will seem altogether blissfully manageable compared to snowballing issues of overpopulation coupled with exploding unrest over dramatically unequal distribution of simultaneously dwindling natural resources.

Seriously, our current petty societal dysfunctions and international disputes will seem really-really silly compared to the mondo turd that will hit the jumbo fan in a matter of decades! As things stand now, we are inching towards a FUBARed humanitarian crisis that will spill out into major global rebellion of the overpopulated, angry, starving masses. It would also be wise to prepare for disasters of unseen proportions dropped on us by Nature to remind us who is The Mother around here.

It is not fear-mongering if it is true and necessary: for now, we still have some semblance of a chance to salvage our planet and its life support system. Doom is not unavoidable but it is where we are headed if we stay the current course of arrogant sociological and ecological short-sightedness.

Even putting the complicated science of climate change aside and focusing solely on over-consumption and over-disposal of non-perishable goods, what we are doing right now is akin to spitting and tossing refuse into our own laps, blind of the space around us shrinking. The way this story ends is: the garbage piles rise and, eventually, close in over our heads, devouring us, making us indistinguishable from garbage. Drowning in one’s own waste is not a terribly dignified way to go, Humanity. Let’s not go down in the annals of the Universe as the species who crapped themselves into oblivion.

THE PITFALLS OF GOSSIP

OnGossip.ColorProps

Have you ever been surprised or horrified when you catch yourself publicly saying something completely out of character for yourself and wonder: Why did I fall for the obvious bait and get trapped into a political argument? Why did I brag and show off so obnoxiously to friends all night? Why did I reveal so much personal, private stuff to a stranger, or worse, someone from my own social network? Why did I say something so catty about so-and-so, when I really do not harbor any negative feelings towards that person? Why did I help pass around a rumor, though I quite consciously and as a matter of principle detest gossiping?

Sure, alcohol comes to mind, but let us not focus on it because it is a catalyst, not the cause of the phenomenon. It is true that the more relaxed and “loosened up” people are by alcohol, the more they tend to lower their filters and yak with wild abandon. But drunkenness is not a necessary condition for gossip and other TMI blunders: I would wager that people gossip just as much over tea!

The true culprit is the social climate created by the awkward combination of fun and anxiety. Even though we all like to think we are in complete control of ourselves, social contexts dramatically shape our behavior how we express ourselves.

Socio-economic necessities force us into unwanted interactions (having to talk to bosses, associates, family members) and social pressures dictate the topics we end up discussing publicly. One moment you’re having innocent lunchtime banter with a coworker, next thing you know, you’re talking about Johnson’s outfit and speculating about her sexuality….

I have always considered myself a keeper of secrets and not a passer-arounder of confidential information. Likewise, I have always felt uncomfortable around people talking negatively about others behind their backs and avoided fueling the fire.

And yet, on a number of occasions, I have caught myself saying something suggestive about people – with remarks that felt innocuous and funny and a propos at the time – but seem questionable or straight-up inappropriate in retrospect. I meant no harm, I swear, but this fact neither excuses the behavior nor lessens the resulting shadow of doubt cast upon another person’s character.

This problematic tendency to get carried away with unintentional mudslinging emerges when we get swept up in the group dynamic: everyone is “on a roll” of discussing others and one is instinctively drawn in, compelled to contribute something funny / interesting / intriguing to the lively conversation. If the tone of the gathering is to badmouth someone, badmouthing becomes easy and natural. These little acts of slander happen under the guise of humorous, friendly, playful chatter and seem to especially thrive in certain groupings, like those of colleagues, relatives, teammates and super-closely-knit friend cliques.

Certainly, some people are quite purposefully vindictive and actively stir up “drama” as a means of self-validation. But most gossipers are not being harsh or acting as a saboteur intentionally: they are simply in the habit of mindlessly recanting other people’s secrets and thoughtlessly criticizing and ridiculing others – to keep boredom at bay and to find something light-hearted to connect over with people.

Unfortunately, when you get enough gossip instigators together, it creates enough momentum to suck in the rest of us who, under other social circumstances, would not think to say something inflammatory about a peer. But when inside the rumor mill, we suddenly find ourselves blabbing away, surrendering to the impulse to fit in, to go with the flow. You really don’t have to be a mean-spirited person to gossip but it becomes a slippery slope, if you go there. The potential social fallout from publicly maligning a friend, colleague or relative can have unintended harmful consequences for the target of gossip as well as people who started and passed it around.

There are myriad explanations in the social sciences for why people gossip. For instance, we have an evolutionarily developed psychological propensity to crave social acceptance – and gossiping offers a temptingly fast ticket to popularity. Gossiping and sharing secrets also strengthen camaraderie and increase a sense of belonging to an exclusive club or community when we share intimate knowledge with the select few individuals. It makes us feel special to be a part of a “circle of trust”.  

Another major component of universal human psychology engaged in gossip is the rule of reciprocity: that magnetic sense of obligation we feel when people say or do “nice” things for us. Symmetrical, ritualistic exchanges of favors keeps the power dynamic balanced, which is why most of us do not like to feel indebted to someone, not for too long. So, when people around us are sharing bits of gossip, they entrap us into feeling that we, too, must now “contribute” some sort of insider information, in kind. We respond by sharing more gossip.

If one willingly surrounds oneself with thieves, thievery will eventually become the “new normal” and the person runs a pretty high risk of succumbing to it. Likewise, gossiping and other social vices, like casually throwing around sexist and racist language, can seep into our behaviors inconspicuously and organically. We see people we love, admire or fear saying and doing all kinds of things and we can’t help but want to emulate them.

So far, my conclusion is: if you don’t want to be a gossiper, avoid social scenes in which judgmental or mocking commentary about acquaintances is the main source of entertainment. Otherwise, sooner or later, you’ll likely find yourself caving to human nature and, if you are like me, feeling like a real jackass and kicking yourself for it later.

 JackAssKickingSelf.cc

Our peers carry huge potential in shaping our social habits and setting roles, norms and boundaries. It can be hard to recognize “toxic” environments if the venom is not directed at us personally and when everyone is laughing merrily and having a great time. Complicity in bullying thrives in the same environment, by the way. Gossip can certainly become an indirect tactic of bullying. It can even seem that we are all “getting away” with it. But, no, we are not. There is a golden tenet in social interaction and it goes as follows:

The way a person talks about others with you is the way this person will talk about you with others.

Period. No exceptions. And because this rule seems so elegantly fair, a small, idealistically moronic part of me keeps hoping that, by the same logic of justice, some social grief in life can be avoided by being a decent person. If I keep my karma cache clear by refraining from saying “iffy” things about others, I may be spared being put through the ringer when it is my name’s turn in the grapevine spotlight. Right?

AsDontBeAHater if!..

The pragmatic realist in me who has been alive (and actively so!) a number of decades among fellow humans knows this to be an unreasonable expectation, to put it mildly. No measure of cosmic justice will prevent haters from hating. The nectar of meanness is just too sweet for some to give up 🙂 The rest of us should try really hard to not feed the trolls.

TV VIOLENCE MAKES ME WANT TO DO VIOLENCE TO MY TV

I have just about lost interest in both TV shows, Game of Thrones and Gotham, as it gets harder to tolerate the gratuitous violence – especially against women – and all the torture porn that is so en vogue right now. I am beginning to feel my quality of life suffer from prolonged exposure to the ceaseless assault on the senses pumped out by what passes for popular entertainment on TV. Lately, I am particularly triggered by sounds of brutality. My husband plays a lot of MMORPG games and watches a lot of HBO dramas and, as I walk back and fourth through the living room, hearing the sounds of gunfire or sword stabbings or women screaming out in pain or ecstasy (sounds exactly the same), I actually feel my blood pressure shoot up.

Anyone who knows me at all will confirm that I am not a person who fears violence. Throughout my life, I have dealt with serious conflicts, threats and quite a few actual assaults. Violence was frequently the language spoken around me and it is a language I understand well.

So it is not that I am too delicate of a flower to handle TV violence.

It is just that most of current TV violence is too shallow, senseless and excessive to be entertaining. It has become anxiety- and rage-inducing instead.

It is just that I do not at all enjoy the feeling of disgusted despisement I get at the sight of humans senselessly pounding each other into meatloaf over ego or breaking each other’s knees and teeth over money. Observing testosterone-blinded males bludgeon other testosterone-blinded males over some imagined testosterone-fueled “beef” is not a spectacle that brightens my day or lifts my spirit.

It is just that I do not enjoy feeling murderous rage at the sight of a yet another stereotypically powerful, clever male victimizing a yet another stereotypically pathetic, easily terrorizable female. And murderous rage is the only way to describe the reaction these viewing experiences summon in me. I want to grab a gun, a machete, a tazer – anything destructive – and go find myself a sexual predator to shoot, slash and electrocute. Are those the feelings of a happy, relaxed person? Do I really need to cultivate thoughts and emotions of sadistic hatefulness in myself? Do you?

I don’t know about you, but there are enough real stressors in my life to make me go out of my way to avoid artificial ones, especially when they pose as “entertainment” and take up my valuable downtime. I feel angry and helpless enough in the face of real, everyday cruelty and humanitarian disasters around the world. Why are we, as a society, so greedy for graphic displays of physical, psychological and sexual abuse – to the point that we are willing to spend our hard-earned money and precious leisure time watching realistic enactments of torture and degradation?

To be clear, I am criticizing gratuitous violence – not the violence necessary to show in order to tell the story – but the dragged out, over-the-top torture scenes, the gore for the sake of gore, the endlessly blurred boundaries between sex and violence — the dumb junk that dominates our entertainment media. There is nothing original about these trite misogynistic tropes and nothing exciting or engaging about the formulaic, one-dimensional, barely-there narratives, with just enough “story” to justify all the “action”. The glorification of slaughter, torture and sexual assault (on women in particular) keeps forcefully broadcasting the cultural message that constantly watching human beings get brutalized – complete with a dramatic  soundtrack of screaming in pain, sobbing in fear, pleading for life, etc. – is a perfectly normal, healthy and enjoyable pastime.

What Awaits Conscientious Police Officers when They Try to Protect the Public from Loose Cannons in Their Midst

Another day, another news story about police brutality. Except this time, it is cop-on-cop violence. The headline reads: “New York Cop Was Fired and Denied Pension for Trying to Stop Fellow Officer from Choking Suspect.” The title left out “punched in the face” which is not only the description of what actually took place physically but a fitting metaphor for the way the police department treated an honest and courageous officer who was only doing her job.

Officer Carol Horne of the  NY Buffalo Police Department was responding to a call for backup when she discovered Officer Gregory Kwiatkowski punching and choking the already handcuffed and subdued suspect. When he refused to heed her request to stop suffocating the suspect, she attempted to physically unpeel his arms from around the suspect’s throat. Officer Kwiatkowski responded by punching her in the face, breaking her nose. Shortly after, Officer Horne was let go of her job and is currently involved in legal dispute over her pension being blocked.

This is the reward good cops have to look forward to, when outing or interfering with their criminally violent colleagues! All the while, their criminally violent colleagues continue to thrive and enjoy social benefits with little to no repercussions. In case you were wondering what was the penance paid by Officer Kwiatkowski for this incident – he was quietly ushered into early retirement, but not until he lost his temper and attacked two more police officers on two separate occasions.

A thorough inquiry into the incident conducted by a local journalist, suggests that entrenched favoritism and deep and wide running family ties seem to contribute much to the unshakability of the web of corruption running through some police departments such as that of Buffalo PD. When everyone in the department is everyone’s cousin or son-in-law, one can imagine, it becomes very easy to succumb to the slippery slope of tribalism-over-public-interest mentality.

In large cities where tight-knit blood relations are not as insular, politics are still the name of the game, only on a larger scale. Tribalism takes the form of the fraternal order of the police and the unspoken conspiracy of silence about the numerous skeletons in the closet of its oldest and most “connected” members. The internal hierarchies in such organizations can be very powerful, far-reaching and intimidating. Police officers learn, sooner or later, that pointing fingers at one’s “own kind”, even with good reason and to uphold the law, can lead to very negative consequences.

Not only direct interference or whistle-blowing but the simple refusal to participate in questionable activities performed by the group can land an officer in hot water with his / her own department. This was the case with a California State University officer who was fired for refusing to use his stun gun on a mentally distressed, potentially suicidal student, after he determined that such force was wholly unnecessary. Three other officers at the scene used two stun guns on the victim and, subsequently, got the officer fired for allegedly “freezing” on the job. This, after an unblemished record of a 20-year service.

This brave officer’s refusal to be complicit in the brutality of his colleagues cast the shadow of doubt on the “rightness” and acceptability of their actions and this must have made them very uncomfortable and angry. Some authoritarian types see themselves as above the law and are wholly unprepared to “look bad” or to be held accountable for their behavior. 

The Justice statue adorning every courthouse in this country has its eyes bound for a reason: if you are emotionally or financially invested in something or someone – because you “owe” them or because you care about them deeply or because you want them to like you or because they know something about you that you don’t want exposed – you cannot be trusted to make a fair judgment call in a case involving this thing or person. The term “conflict of interest” comes to mind but how do you avoid such things in organizations built around blind loyalty and the stigmatization of dissent?

Unfortunately, some officers of the law do it all the time, some by acting out of line, others by protecting those acts by shrouding them in silence or lies. So do some prosecutors. And so do some judges. And so did the CIA: by turning the blind eye to the rampant, sadistic torture taking place in counter-terrorism detention centers, the agency demonstrated the same unspoken condition of “I cover your ass on the contingency that you cover mine – or else!” operating behind so many police departments.

What is it going to take to put an end to this authoritarianism? How can we effectively affect the overturn of these quasi-feudal, dynasty-driven syndicates at the core of the organization charged with protecting all of us but, in the end, serving the interests of very few? But they are not just self-serving, they are criminally abusive against the very populace they are supposed to take care of – and anyone who gets in their way.

Sad but true: our police system is overrun with thuggery. Some of its members have the egos of small-time warlords. They do not only infringe upon the rights of civilians. They exert their power to choke out any attempt by other honest, law-abiding-and-upholding police officers to hold them accountable for their illegal dealings and violent (in the case of Officer Kwiatkowski – psychopathic) behaviors.

In this climate of fear and intolerance, being a “good cop” takes more than just doing the job – it requires innate courage and willingness to submit oneself to very negative attention from “the brotherhood” and the very real threat of losing one’s job (and pension!) and having one’s career derailed for good.

Thank goodness for those good officers who stick their necks out for their principles and the oaths they took to uphold the law and to protect the public. They deserve our utmost gratitude and support because it is hard enough to fight crime “out there” in the streets but it gets damn near impossible to do the job when the enemy dwells within one’s own camp.