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I have to learn to be more professional. No more long-winded soliloquies about my baffling personality. Nose to the grindstone and all that. I hope there is some coke on that grindstone. Right. Start up the generator!
Inventive Resentment.
“Listen hear, Rosa Parks! If you don’t move to the back of the bus right now with the rest of the coloreds, I’m gonna call the authorities and remove you from this bus forever!” “I’m not going back there! That fat heffer Oprah Windfree has been letting off enough anal oxide to kill a horse! No sir! I’m not going anywhere near the back of this bus!”
Everyone harbors resentment. I don’t care who you are. Even Gandhi had resentment. “Everyone must respect everything and love all that is both good and bad. Except Pakistan! I hate those low life Pakis! But everyone else is love.” Perhaps your wife has gotten a promotion and she has a new business smart wardrobe. And look at that! She has lost a few pounds. While you run in place at your crappy job with its glass ceiling. Plus, she is probably sucking off her new boss, right? You sad, depressing little man. How long until your resentment ruins your marriage? Which is typical resentment. Not the good kind. Oh yes, there is a good kind! And I’m here to tell you it’s as great an invention as sliced bread and free porn!
Most people are narcissistic pricks. Like me. So, they can’t see beyond their own bullshit at the inventive resentment. Typically, your shallow self would be resentful of things like marriage, siblings, pregnancy, addictions, and the garden variety “She thinks her shit don’t stink” bullshit. Which is the dangerous side of resentment. I’m not saying you have to invent new things to resent, but to invent new things because of resentment. Where would this world be if Johnny Rotten walked happily through life. “Learn to enjoy every minute of your life. Be happy now, you wanker.” No! He resented the upper class and the crappy music he was hearing on the radio and, perhaps, almost every aspect of a society of blind sheep herders, or something like that. This resentment led to the invention of punk rock. I’m not saying J.R. was the seed of a movement, but he and a group of equally resentful individuals led to some sort of social change. A “wow” moment. All thanks to the great and wonderful inventive resentment.
My mind races to other inventive resenters that have had an effect on the world. Like Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King, The Unknown Rebel at Tiananmen Square, Nelson Mandela and Thich Quang Duc (The guy on fire on the Rage Against The Machine cover.) Or writers like Poe and Bukowski and Baudelaire! Or movies like Taxi Driver and A Clockwork Orange and SLC Punk! Or bands like Public Enemy and Fugazi and Bikini Kill! Shit, almost everything I associate myself with is born from a beautiful resentment! And conversely, I take a great joy in despising the complete dregs of manufactured popularity! Fuck you, Justin Bieber! I hope you drown in the kiddie pool from the giant gold chain around your neck and that you’re discovered by a salivating TMZ reporter! AND, Piss off, Glee! You have homogenized homosexuality and now I hope my cross dressing beauty of a pal Frederick rips your anus clean open from his massive cock! AND, fuck you Adam Sandler for making millions of dollars off the worst films to ever be called films! The price is wrong, bitch? If only Carl Spackler ran out on the green and split your head wide open with a nine-iron, we could have been spared the embarrassment that is Grown Ups! Woooooooo! I feel great!! I could do this all day! I don’t know if this is comedy anymore, but I feel like laughing out loud! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHahahahaha ha ha ha haaaaa. God, that felt good. Hehe… woo. I think I need a cigarette.
Now, I know motivational speakers and posters and quotes help people along through their days, weeks, and lives. I see them everywhere. The “hang in there” kitty posters. The Obama “Hope” t-shirts. The “Collaborate and listen” stickers put on stop signs. Perhaps there is a particular quote that stirs in you some profound meaning to life on the day you have discovered heartache. Maybe it’s “Bitches aint shit but hoes and tricks.” I dunno. Whatever energizes you and moves you through your day. My problem is this: In this particular climate, people want their motivational moments to be positive. A sugar-coated bitter pill. Like, “If you want to lift yourself up, lift up someone else.” Or, “Don’t worry, be happy.” Or, “All you need is love.” “Aww, shut up, John! Sometimes I need to squish a fuckin’ otter between my toes! Maybe tomorrow, but I won’t fall in love today, ok? God, you’re so annoying.” Happiness, or at least, toleration is definitely necessary to our well-being. Which, I must say, is fine in small doses, but surely can’t be a day-to-day accomplishment. We need emotional moderation! We need to give a reach around to the dark side! We need to rage against the dying light! Sometimes, but not all the time, we need to rape and poison their pleasant designs. Thanks, Baudelaire!
Wow, I feel alive right now. And, I feel pretty happy. I have told people on many occasions that I am emotionally dyslexic. I can hear Slayer’s “Reign In Blood” in its entirety and feel nothing but calm, sweet elation. And, I can get in an elevator and have my day ruined by the muzac version of “Right Here, Right Now.” I guess it is important to ride on the knives’ edge of these two extremes. You can’t make blanketed statements like, “Resentment is an obstacle at living a good life.” Tell that to Che Guevara or to Abraham Lincoln. Sometimes you need to slap that resentment back and forth with both hands, be careful to shape it perfectly, and throw that baby on the grill. I like mine medium, please. Just a little blood or the frenzy becomes unbearable! Oh, and a cold Corona would be nice. Yes, John. Sometimes all you need is a cold beer.
Roundoms! 