Tag Archives: guns

What is it?

A female at work offered up the theory that women are more apt to internalize their struggle, whereas men tend to strike out. My term is impotent rage, and as we see, it’s becoming more and more of a problem. 

I have always believed that if people want to own guns legally, they should. Consenting adults should be able to do whatever they wish as long as they don’t hurt anyone. And I don’t really, in my heart of hearts think that more guns equal more senseless crime. Just more…efficient crime. 

I think that we are more apt to cave in to the fear. I, an “older man”, feel the fear well up sometimes if i’m exposed to too many commercials poking gently at my deepest fears. Impotence. Cancer. Retirement. Jon Bon Jovi. Look at the ubiquitous nature of those inescapable insurance ads. There’s Flo. But there’s also a subtle subtext. Fear. You’re gonna get sick. You’re gonna get hurt. You better get ready, fucker, for the judgement day. It’s coming, fatty. Take your pills. I dutifully do. And I’m not the smartest man, but I’m sophisticated enough to know when I’m being manipulated. I don’t cave in too much. Moreover, my feminine side takes over. I internalize my fear. But I also have the added advantage of already having procreated, married, domesticated. Sullen but safe. And I think that these kids, these boys, probably don’t have the perspective or the outlet they need. 

That last fella saw therapists and he fooled them. His parents knew he had problems but all the love in the world didn’t stop him. I don’t think he was lonely. I think he was afraid. I think something inside wouldn’t take another minute of uncertainty. When i was a kid i prayed to the stars that I would find someone, anyone, some girl to hold me and kiss me and love me. I remember those nights. So what kept me from getting a gun and shooting people’s faces off? Who knows? But i don’t think guns are the problem. 

In my limited understanding of the female, they seem to internalize these insecurities, punishing themselves for perceived inadequacies. My friend at work told me that this is what women do. And that’s why there aren’t many girls shooting up classrooms and shit. 

I’m not blaming TV, It’s a combination of things, including mental disease. But  don’t think the constant bombardment of young psyches via impossible images of what they think they should be can be ignored in this equation. Every new TV show features groups of thin, attractive, well-groomed characters staring dolefully into the camera. Only comedy can accommodate we fatties. Only Mike and/or Molly feel our pain. And it’s constant. And it’s unrelenting. Online. On TV. In music videos and shit.

 

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That same dream.

I dream of being cast aside. I dream of being homeless. Afraid and adrift.

Last night I was dreaming that I was negotiating the end of a relationship with what I think was my first girlfriend (I consider her to be my first girlfriend) at a more domesticated level than we ever reached in reality. Youth is wasted on the young.

So we’re in this ferocious argument about what I did and didn’t contribute to our relationship, like shouting your resume. I argued that I moved all her stuff into the apartment. The book shelves. The furniture. It was strange because I actually threatened her, imposing my physical presence upon her, when in reality I was more afraid of her than she ever was of me. And somehow we negotiated that if she gave me $5,000, I would be alright and able to live a life after our “divorce”.

In the dream I got on a bus and rode it down the straight boulevard lined with trees, still reeling from the definitive nature of my summary dismissal. At the next stop, three members of the New York Knicks got on, one of whom was stuffing a gun clumsily into his Speedo underwear. He and I started a conversation, and I insisted he was Carmelo Anthony. He denied it with a smile, but did deign to sign his name on my forearm. His signature immediately transformed itself into an ornate tattoo.  I was pleased, but he still wouldn’t admit he was Carmelo Anthony. He was very accommodating, however.

We passed a large university setting, and in the dream I was asking him what the name of the university was. He didn’t know, but I recognized it as a place for which I had applied for admission and been denied. It filled me with a sudden sadness. Sadness that became mitigated when Carmelo Anthony and I noticed a woman running after our bus. Carmelo insisted she would make it but I opined that she wouldn’t. She did!

And then I woke up. Opened my email. Lots and lots of job boards.

I’ve been applying for work through these job boards for years and nothing has come of it. What is it they say about insanity?

I own three copies of this:

 

 

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