Monday, August 04, 2003

McCulture's Trojan Horse
by Skald

Romantic love is second only to WORK in its capacity to destroy freedom. How many men have sold their dreams for a woman? How many women have degraded their potential for a man? How many have lost their ferocity and self-reliance? How many have been reduced to bufoonery by marriage and children? Is there anything more pathetic than the American family man?--- proudly inept-- hopelessly emasculated?

The family man. The company man. What sad idiots. How painful to see a man stripped of courage, creativity, independence,... vision: Men who should be wolves-- perverted into poodles. Poor saps.... too late they realize this woman is the Trojan Horse of society-- the infective agent of conformity. Through her he learns to crave a house in the burbs, a corporate job, a clean bathroom, housekeeping, kids, tidiness, propriety, safety, security. Romantic love is insidious. Two desperate people, bound to each other, sinking into the stagnant abyss.

Children accelerate the process... through them the man regresses. "Families, how I hate them... the misers of love!" Indeed.

Behold the family-- celebrating every one of Junior's shits, farts, pukes, or burps. Behold the family-- terrified of TV news phantoms: violent "darkies", wetback gangsters, teenage psychoes, muslim terrorists, potheads, rapists, serial killers, drug dealers, beggars, drunks. Behold the family- barricaded within SUVs, obscene McMansions, gated communities, country clubs, suburbs, corporate campuses. Behold the family- drowning Junior in gadgets to prove their love. Behold the family-- injecting Junior with fear and nueroses... coddling Junior... spoiling Junior... beating Junior.... resenting Junior.... suffocating Junior... manipulating Junior.

Watch the desperation get passed from generation to generation. Witness Junior's impossible position. Watch as Junior sells out his dream - never attempts to reach it. Observe as Junior learns to be "realistic"... returns to the burbs, the mall, the cul-de-sac... a job in insurance... a wife.... a mortgage.. a car payment.

The cycle returns full circle as Junior fathers his own child. Works. Breeds. Consumes. Dies.

No satoris. No glimpse of mystery or awe. No creative visions. No ecstacy. No magic. No freedom.

An empty husk- Junior goes trembling to the grave.

"A kind of second childhood falls on so many men. They trade their violence for the promise of a small increase in life span. In effect, the head of the house becomes the youngest child...." -- John Steinbeck

No comments: