Showing posts with label Braveheart. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Braveheart. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

The Maddest Max

You may have heard Mel Gibson hasn’t been particularly nice to his baby-mama as of late. You may have heard the recorded phone calls in which he informs his fiancĂ© that if “she gets raped by a pack of n****s” it’s her fault. He also tells her that he’s going to burn their house down but ensures her that she’ll “blow” him first. A friend accurately described the tapes as crazy person madlibs. I’m going to [verb] your [sex organ] with a [noun, preferably large object] as if I were a a [racial epithet].

These tapes are hilarious and captivating. They’re terrifying and disgusting. But hey, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. So when life gives you racist/misogynistic audio leaks, look for a silver lining. So what’s the silver lining to these tapes? How can I turn this private tragedy into a lesson about my own narcissism, you ask? Well, here goes: these tapes are a nice reminder of my own sanity.

I can get down on myself for my problem solving skills. I can get passive, frustrated, angry, whatever. I’ve had meltdowns over parking tickets. But Mr. Gibson really puts my anger-issue in perspective. Somewhere between threatening to take a bat to his fiancĂ©’s head and burning down his home, Mr. Braveheart reminded me that I actually have a pretty solid control over my own emotions and that I’m respectful of others. In relationships I’ve had my moments of inattentiveness and disrespect, but I’ve never yelled at a girl that her best friend would “blow me in less than 5 seconds.” I’ve never called a girlfriend a “c*nt.” Damn, Mad Max, maybe I’m actually a very reasonable and respectful person. Maybe I should cut myself some slack. Thanks for the reality check, Mel!

This is the same reaction I have when I watch shows like “16 and Pregnant.” While rubbernecking at these mini-teenage-catastrophes, in the back of my mind I’m always thinking “thank God I haven’t made a decision or mistake on this level.” All of my Catholic guilt and insistence on safe conduct have steered me clear from knocking someone up. Watching that show is like getting a high-five from the universe for responsible decisions.

Sometimes pretentious poopyheads give me a hard time for enjoying lowbrow pop culture, like Mel’s tapes or “16 and Pregnant.” But, like, whatever man. On a day to day basis, the universe kicks our asses. At work or at school, we’re often under-slept, overworked, and underappreciated. We are defeated by our circumstances all the time. It’s enough to get you down, to make you take on a whiny, cynical worldview. But what keeps me an optimist? What convinces me that I’m a decent dude? Sometimes, it’s this. It’s examples of utter failure, it’s sad displays of questionable decisions and misdirected instincts that help me stay hopeful about the consequences of my decisions and circumstances in which I live. So thank you, Mel. Thank you, “16 and Pregnant”, for helping me defeat cynicism while giggling at my TV screen.