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Boys and girls together

Lately the Internet has been crowded with stories of the Occupy Wall Street protest movement, in which hundreds of college-age or slightly older kids have assembled to air a vague but passionate collection of grievances. The demonstrations have spread beyond Wall Street, and in some cases have turned violent. I'm not going to comment here about the protesters' ideology, because I don't think they have much of one, and what little of substance they are saying doesn't interest me. What does interest me is their psychology, because I can relate to it, and because it carries implications for human nature in general.

 

Occupy-Wall-Street-Pretty-Girl-Arrested1

I need to get autobiographical here. Thirty years ago I graduated from college, having earned a not-very-marketable degree in Film Studies. I set out for Los Angeles, expecting to take the movie industry by storm. I had been encouraged in this expectation by my teachers' praise, and by the fact that my life up to that point had been pretty easy–I'd never had to work very hard to get good grades, and though I'd held a few jobs to earn extra money, I'd never been in danger of missing a meal. I saw no reason why things should be any more difficult for me when I left the comfortable embrace of institutions of learning. I was in for a rude awakening.

Much to my surprise, I discovered that a film degree was nothing special in Los Angeles. Everybody had one, including the waiter serving me a cheeseburger at Bob's Big Boy. I also discovered that without connections or any particular talent at self-promotion, I wasn't likely to make inroads into the movie industry anytime soon. In fact, everything was a whole lot harder than I'd expected. I ended up taking a rather crummy job as a delivery person for a company that sold investments over the phone. My job was to drive around Los Angeles County delivering contracts. I put hundreds of miles on my car, a cheap little Chevrolet Chevette, which was, incidentally, one of the ugliest automobiles ever produced in America. I wrote a number of screenplays and tried hard to get an agent, but faced a wall of rejections and mounting frustration. I began to feel that I'd been badly misled. The easy path to success that I felt I'd been promised had not materialized–had, in fact, turned out to be a chimera, a mirage. My teachers had made it all sound so easy, and the constant self-esteem-building encouragement I'd received in my formative years had led me to believe that whatever I wanted was there for the taking. How wrong I was.

Beyond all this, I also felt alienated from mainstream society for ideological reasons. In college I'd become infatuated with the writings of Ayn Rand and had adopted a radical libertarian political perspective. The first presidential candidate I ever voted for, in 1980, was Ed Clark, nominee of the Libertarian Party. In 1984 I didn't vote for president at all, because I felt there was no difference–no difference?–between Ronald Reagan and Walter Mondale. My view at the time was that all mainstream politics was hopelessly corrupt and that American society was hopelessly irrational and stupid and that we were all going to hell in a handbasket and deserved it.

And so, as a result of my personal frustrations and my ideological estrangement from society, I became a very angry guy. I mean, really, really angry. I spent a lot of my time just seething at the injustices and stupidities of the world. I was furious at American society and its economy and culture and leadership class and voting public–all of it–furious because it wasn't behaving the way I wanted it to, and it wasn't giving me the life I wanted to have.

It is probably fortunate that I had an outlet for my anger–namely, writing. In those days I cranked out a large amount of fiction, most of it garbage, but while the material may have been unpublishable dreck, at least it allowed me to vent my frustrations. The first novel I ever sold was a horror story in which a pack of attack dogs, having gone feral, proceed to terrorize a small town very similar to the one in which I'd grown up. The book is brutally violent and contains numerous scenes of innocent people being torn to shreds by the howling ravenous pack. The mutilations and maimings inflicted on these characters are described in voluptuous detail. I definitely had issues, and ripping the hell out of people in my fiction was my way of dealing with them.

There was a lot I didn't know at the time. I didn't know that the first steps are always the hardest, and that things do get easier as you go along. I didn't know that it takes time to build a career, especially in a field like filmmaking or novel-writing, where there is no clear path to success. I didn't know that I wasn't alone in my frustrations and failures–that millions of people my age were going through much the same thing, and that millions more had gone through it in the past. I didn't know that my assumptions about the way the world should work were fundamentally unrealistic, a product of dorm-room bull sessions and Ayn Rand's feverish fiction. I didn't know that most people really are doing the best they can, and that if society is unsatisfactory, it's because human nature is imperfect.

I also didn't know that it wasn't all about me.

That was really the main thing I didn't know. I was stuck in a stage of narcissistic development in which the only thing that mattered was my life, my ambition, my desires, my disappointments, my beliefs, my ego, myself. I couldn't see past my own problems and my own very limited perspective. I couldn't see that other people had far worse problems and were dealing with them without complaint. I couldn't see that my problems really didn't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy, mixed-up world, as Rick in Casablanca would have said.

Narcissism is, I think, a perfectly normal stage of emotional development. It is actually healthy, because it allows young people to exhibit the self-confidence necessary to attract their mates. It is a biological adaptation that encourages or that promotes procreation. Undue self-regard, as obnoxious as it may be, is beneficial in terms of reproduction, just as the flamboyant feathers of the peacock are helpful in attracting the amorous peahen and ensuring new generations of peacocks.

The author Barbara Sher writes persuasively on this topic in her excellent self-help book It's Only Too Late If You Don't Start Now, which discusses the changes in personality that most of us go through as result of biological adaptation and social conditioning. Narcissism, grandiosity, and self-dramatizing self-obsession are hallmarks of adolescents and of the immediate post-adolescent years. Thus has it ever been and thus shall it ever be. And our indulgent and comfortable society only encourages this mindset and helps it to stick around a little longer than it needs to. 

Even so, for most people, this stage of development is blessedly temporary. By their mid-twenties they are moving beyond narcissism, usually because they have started a family and must provide for their children, which requires sacrificing their own pleasure and convenience. But in the interval between the onset of adolescent narcissism and its gradual dissipation in light of adult responsibilities, there is an extended period akin to the terrible twos, which can be summed up in one word: me. Or more precisely: me, me, me, me, me!

Now we come back to the Wall Street protesters. Most of them are lodged securely in this demographic group. They are of college age or a little older, and they have not yet had children. They are taking their very first steps into the real world, away from the protection of academia and their parents. They are finding those first steps difficult–perhaps unusually difficult right now, because of the bad economy, but let's not kid ourselves; those first steps are always difficult, even in a good economy. And, like me thirty years ago, they are deeply frustrated, disappointed, and angry. Things are not working out the way they were supposed to. Implicit promises made by the system are not being kept. The easy path to success and happiness has vanished like a dream, replaced by a stony and winding uphill trail that leads to an uncertain destination. They feel lied to, and in a sense they have been. They have been coddled and therefore somewhat hobbled by those who, seeking to boost their self-esteem and make them feel good about themselves, have told him over and over again how special they are and how bright their future is. They feel betrayed. They feel cheated. They feel scared. They feel lonely. They feel helpless. They feel hopeless. They feel all the things I felt, and all the things that young people always feel when youthful dreams crash headlong into the brick wall of reality.

And so they occupy a park, march on Times Square for no particular reason, chant silly slogans, carry misspelled signs, and bang on drums–not because any of this will do them any good, but because they don't know what else to do. Incoherently they feel that if they just express their rage loudly enough, somehow the universe, like a loving and indulgent parent, will hear them and take pity on them and make everything all right again. And if it doesn't, then at least they can lash out and try to inflict hurt on this world that seems so intent on hurting them. I know all about that. When I was their age, I often felt like screaming and lashing out too. The emperor Nero famously said he wished humanity had a single throat so he could cut it. I used to wish humanity had a single face so I could punch it. These protesters feel the same way.

Are they idealists? Yes and no. Yes, in the sense that they imagine there is some better system which, if implemented, will magically make  the problems of adult life go away. It doesn't matter whether they imagine that system to be socialism, communism, anarchy, or–as in my case–libertarianism (radical laissez-faire capitalism). They are naïvely hopeful that human nature can be altered and perfected if only the right policies are implemented. This is a kind of idealism.

But it is also a kind of ignorance and stupidity. It is the ignorance and stupidity of the young, who simply don't know better, because they haven't experienced much of life, and because they're relying on information obtained in books and lectures safely removed from the real world. And it is a dangerous ignorance, a perilous stupidity, because it may lead some of them to do desperate things. In fact, it already has. Hundreds of these protesters have been arrested, and those arrests will remain on their records for the rest of their life, complicating their efforts to find employment. Some have committed acts of violence; an 82-year-old woman suffered a fractured skull in the Times Square riot on Saturday night. Some may become so frustrated and depressed when their movement inevitably fizzles out that they will turn to drugs, alcohol, even suicide.

So yes, I do understand these people. I understand their fears, their frustrations, and their rage. And I understand that since most of them have no creative outlet, they can find relief only in mob action, in screaming and running amok and acting like idiots. They're young; they're supposed to be idiots. That's what youth is for.

But they also need to be corralled, controlled, disciplined, and—in cases of lawbreaking—roundly punished. Because, you see, that's what adulthood is for.

And we all have to grow up sometime. 

October 16, 2011 in Current Affairs, Personal thoughts, Psychology | Permalink | Comments (189)

Sit back and reflect

Hrvoje Butkovic, who sometimes comments on this blog, has set up a new website dedicated to "the idea of creating a self-reflective society." According to the site, such a society has the following features: 

It encourages people to stop uncritically adopting the ways of others – be it leaders or role models in the political, business, religious, entertainment, or any other arena – and instead discover for themselves the most authentic, meaningful and fulfilling ways to live.

It encourages people to scrutinise the foundation on which it rests – in the form of values and beliefs – for the purpose of identifying and replacing those that don’t accurately represent them.

It encourages people to scrutinise the social structures that were built on top of that foundation for the purpose of identifying and replacing those that do not produce results consistent with the stated values and beliefs.

It encourages people to continuously engage in the above exercises, and so keep refining themselves and the society in which they live.

With all the panic and hysteria in the news lately, now may be the right time for some quiet reflection. 

August 08, 2011 in Current Affairs, Weblogs | Permalink | Comments (86)

Weinergate

The largest news of the past week is, of course, Weinergate. 

In all honesty, the number of column inches devoted to this story seems disproportionate to its subject. The story may be big, and it may continue to grow, but I doubt it has the potential to be huge. Even so, there is no doubt that the scandal will be hard on the congressman and his staff.

There is no need to magnify the story or extend it. The facts, laid bare, are straightforward enough. It appears that the congressman pulled a boner and was caught with his pants down. He issued a brief statement, which may have been premature and seems to have been a stretch. It appears he got overly excited and wasn't using his head. As a result, his story is encountering stiff opposition and has prompted penetrating questions from the hardened press corps, who see him as fair game for whacking. 

Though the media continue to pump the congressman, his answers have come up short. Even as reporters flog him, he has remained rigid in sticking to his story. Apparently he has decided to run it up the flagpole and see if anyone salutes, while trying to beat off all inquiries. In all of this, I can't escape the feeling that we are being jerked around by Congressman Weiner. It's almost as if he is trying to screw us.

If the congressman persists in dicking around, the situation may come to a head. He risks looking like a tool, even like a bit of a prick, as he tries to make us swallow a story that would choke a chicken. 

He needs to master the situation and not be baited into losing self-control. It doesn't help him when he goes off half-cocked. He must stand tall, straighten his spine, and do the hard work of servicing his constituents. The story may be large, but it's nothing he can't handle. He just has to grab hold of it with both hands. 

To be frank, Weiner needs to show some balls.

June 02, 2011 in Confused turtle sex, Current Affairs, Humor, Idiocy | Permalink | Comments (23)

Good-time Charlie

Okay, I admit it. I'm fascinated by Charlie Sheen's epic meltdown. It's rare to see someone destroy himself so completely and so publicly in so short a time.

In keeping with the rambling, semicoherent nature of Mr. Sheen's own rants, I have some disjointed, unorganized thoughts on this tempest in a tin can.

1. On another thread we've been talking about the ego. Sheen's behavior is a larger-than-life instance of the ego in action -- or in this case, out of control and running amok. I don't believe the delusional grandiosity and aggressive narcissism currently on display represent the ultimate truth about Charlie Sheen. His real self, his deepest self, is not this polluted self-aggrandizing wreck. And just imagine the hell of living eternally if this was the real Charlie. Extinction would be a much kinder fate.

2. Sheen is now threatening to sue CBS and Warner Bros. for $320 million on the grounds that they have unjustifiably deprived him of his livelihood. I'm not a lawyer, but in my layman's opinion this suit doesn't have a chance. For one thing, Sheen has a long track record of erratic and unstable behavior, which no employer can be required to countenance.

Moreover, Sheen agreed to enter rehab and demonstrate sobriety, and has not lived up to that agreement; curing his addictions "in a nanosecond" with his mind is not the same thing as going through a recognized rehabilitation program, and passing a single urine test is not the same thing as being clean and sober. (Update on March 2: I've now read that Sheen's employers had agreed to let him do his rehab at home, rather than in a recognized facility, so this point is not as strong as I'd believed.)  

Also -- and this is the kicker -- CBS and Warner Bros. can argue that allowing Sheen to resume work would pose a danger to his coworkers. After all, Sheen is on record as saying that he would like to pummel the show's creator with his "fire-breathing fists," and has challenged him to a cage match, while announcing that he has learned to "love with violence and hate with violence," and that he will "destroy" anyone who threatens his "family" (i.e., his entourage of porn stars, drug dealers, and assorted sycophants). That all this is not just talk is demonstrated by his documented history of violence. He shot his fiancée Kelly Preston in the arm; he reportedly beat up ex-wife Denise Richards; he reportedly beat up girlfriend Brittany Ashland and threatened to kill her; he reportedly beat up ex-wife Brooke Mueller and threatened to kill her; he reportedly choked girlfriend Capri Anderson. It is perfectly plausible to say that his threats should be taken seriously. CBS and Warner Bros. are already laying the groundwork for this defense by announcing that they have beefed up security at the Warners lot and will not let Sheen on the property under any circumstances. This is a sensible precaution, but also a shrewd legal move that will allow them to argue that Sheen represented a real danger to their employees.

3. Sheen, at 45, is five years younger than I am, and looks about 60 in recent interviews. How's that "total bitchin' rock star from Mars" lifestyle working out for ya?

4. Sheen is worth -- or should be worth -- an estimated $85 million, most of which he earned in the last eight years. Yet he implies that he is nearly broke and has a desperate need for new infusions of cash. As someone on the Internet quipped, "Hiring porn stars instead of financial planners was a smart move."

5. Is it possible that Sheen has been bipolar all along, and was using drugs and alcohol to self-medicate? Or is his current manic behavior some kind of withdrawal reaction? Or have years of substance abuse simply fried his brain? 

6. For a textbook example of a sycophantic enabler, look no further than the reprehensible Alex Jones, the radio interviewer who egged Sheen on, laughed at his inane jokes, praised him to the skies, and even compared him (for no conceivable reason) to Thomas Jefferson. Sheen is just a sad, sick man currently circling the drain; Jones is despicable.

7. I thought Two and a Half Men was funny in its early years, when it appeared that Sheen was doing an over-the-top parody of his pre-reformed self. For me, most of the humor went out of his character when I realized he was doing a considerably toned-down version of his contemporary self. I did still watch the show sometimes, though not regularly. Much of last season involved the Sheen character courting a beautiful and shockingly normal woman named Chelsea. I knew the show had lost my allegiance when I found myself actively rooting for Chelsea to run away from Sheen as fast as possible. I no longer found his character rakishly charming; I just thought he was sick, foul, and pitiable -- much like good-time Charlie himself.

February 28, 2011 in Current Affairs | Permalink | Comments (33)

Thought for the day

Every day I am grateful that Charlie Sheen developed an interest in 9-11 Trutherism and not in the paranormal.

February 28, 2011 in Current Affairs, Idiocy, Personal thoughts | Permalink | Comments (7)

Segway to the afterlife

As Dave Barry would say, I am not making this up. And neither is the Associated Press, I assume. 

A wealthy British businessman who owns the company that makes the two-wheeled Segway has been found dead in a river in northern England after apparently falling off a cliff on one of the vehicles, police said Monday.

Walking: 1

Segway: 0

By the way, I stole the title of this post from one of the comments at the linked site. Another good comment:

"Next invention - Segway With Wings"

September 27, 2010 in Current Affairs | Permalink | Comments (6)

Mad Max

Everyone else is talking about it. Why not us? 

By "it," I mean this newly released eight-minute tape in which Mel Gibson goes absolutely batshucks crazy, admits to punching his wife in the face and says she deserved it, apparently threatens to kill her with a baseball bat and bury her in the garden, and screams so long and loud that he has to pant like an overheated dog just to find the strength to go on screaming. (Warning: Extremely profane content.)

Mel-gibson-the-beaver
  

It's probably the single most amazing thing I've heard online. It makes Christian Bale sound like Mary Poppins.

Now we know why Mel is so good at playing psychopaths. He's just being himself.

The man is clearly insane. I'd say he's an extreme narcissist and sociopath, and maybe bipolar. His mental problems were pretty evident even from the first tape, which wasn't as bad as this one, but was bad enough.

And yet up till now he's gotten a fair amount of support from fans who are demonstrating more loyalty than judgment. Some of the defenses offered online:

"It was a private conversation."

"She's a gold-digger who set him up."

"He's just having a midlife crisis."

"Everybody gets mad during break-ups."

And my personal favorite: "He's a Christian!"

As if being a (professed) Christian is some kind of all-purpose get-out-of-jail-free card. Well, for some people, it is.

Mel probably won't go to prison. Celebrities rarely do. But I don't think we'll be seeing his psychotic grin on the big screen again.

Mad Max, indeed.

Braveheart? Not so much.

July 12, 2010 in Current Affairs | Permalink | Comments (59)

Palate cleanser

I'm not sure if this Jay Leno routine is funny or sad.

Regardless, happy Fourth of July!

July 03, 2010 in Current Affairs, Humor, Television | Permalink | Comments (7)

Sunday fun day

A scintillating smorgasbord of toothsome tidbits for your enjoyment and edification ...

I'm thrilled that teenage sailor Abby Sunderland has been rescued at sea. But she and her family need to brush up on their PR skills. Abby's first comment was that she wants to attempt her near-fatal solo circumnavigation stunt again. There's a fine line between courage and foolhardiness ... Meanwhile her dad responded to criticism of the venture by declaring that his family are "adventurers," not "accountants." However this was intended, it has the ring of: We want to have our fun, and we don't care who foots the bill. Not the way to win friends and influence people.

Rolling Stone has a lengthy, well-researched article on the oil spill and seems to assign blame pretty fairly. By the way, why don't we have a catchy name for this crisis yet? I nominate "Godspilla."

Less than two years into his term, President Barack Obama has already played more golf than George W. Bush did in his entire presidency. Maybe Obama would have visited the oil spill sooner if someone had told him it was in the Golf of Mexico. Ba-da-boom!

Speaking of golf, Tiger Woods' game is now officially in the toilet, which only makes my magnificent poem "Tigerwoodsias" more timely and meaningful than ever.

Still on sports, the L.A. Dodgers reportedly hired a Russian psychic to beam energy at the team and improve their performance. For his services they forked over a six-figure salary. This sounds flaky even to me.

You want flaky? Alvin Greene is the strangest political story of the year. He had no money, no organization, no advertising, no name recognition, and apparently did no campaigning. He is currently unemployed after leaving the military under a cloud, doesn't own a car, lives with his elderly father in the house where he grew up, is facing a felony charge that carries a prison sentence, and seems painfully inarticulate in media interviews. How the heck did this guy win the Democratic Party nomination for US Senator -- and with 60% of the vote, no less? Does it really come down to the fact that his name was first on the ballot? ... "There is something genuinely mysterious about this whole thing," says former DNC chair Don Fowler. I've got to agree.  

Legendary illustrator Frank Frazetta died in May. Growing up, I was fascinated by his evocative cover art for Edgar Rice Burroughs' Pellucidar books and Robert E. Howard's Conan series. Along with special effects maestro Ray Harryhausen, who celebrates his 90th birthday later this month, Frazetta helped usher in the current era of eye-popping visual design in movies and videogames.

A movie version of Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged was scheduled to commence filming last Friday. It's actually the first in a series of four, count 'em four, movies to be based on the epic novel. The producer is an exercise equipment tycoon with no movie experience. The director is a newbie. The screenwriter has two ten-minute shorts and an unreleased low-budget horror movie to his credit. And the cast? Well, as of two weeks ago they still didn't have a cast ... Again, there's a fine line between courage and foolhardiness. In this case, I'm thinking we may be looking at the next Titanic. I don't mean the movie Titanic, I mean the actual ship.

June 13, 2010 in Current Affairs, Idiocy, Personal thoughts | Permalink | Comments (31)

Debating debt

I still worry about the mounting national debt. But a reader named Jimbo has argued (in comments, here) that my fears are groundless, because the rules in a fiat currency system are fundamentally different from the rules under a gold standard. This point of view is called Modern Monetary Theory. I would like to believe MMT, because then I could stop worrying.

Today I came across a brief explanation of MMT. It's sufficiently dumbed down that even I could grasp it.

Is MMT correct? I don't know. I lack the economic expertise to pass judgment. Two things make me wary: first, it seems to be promising a free lunch, and second, it appears to serve as a justification for "progressive" policies, i.e., bigger and more intrusive government.

As a pessimist, I'm doubtful of free lunches, and as a conservative, I'm not sold on big government as the solution to all ills.

Still, the MMT people may have a point. Maybe when the US went off the gold standard, the rules of the game changed. Maybe when we obsess about deficits and a balanced budget, we are stuck in an outdated paradigm.

As one commenter at the above-linked site argues,

Being the sovereign provider of a non-convertible floating rate (fx) currency of issue, the US government is not financially constrained. This means that the federal government does not need to tax or borrow to finance its deficit spending. To say that the government will go bankrupt, become insolvent, run out of money or default on its debt is like saying that a scoreboard will run out of points.

Are we scaring ourselves silly for no good reason? Or are the MMT people singing a pollyannish siren song?

Discuss.

May 13, 2010 in Current Affairs | Permalink | Comments (76)

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