Messrs. Rogers & Carlin
Today is a bad day. I’ve been on the verge of tears all afternoon. There isn’t any specific reason for it, I guess I’m just tired in general. I’m tired of the way people behave towards others. I’m tired of our bloodlust, and our desire to engage in petty recrimination. We find something wrong with a human being, and we hammer away at it until they’re known only by their greatest flaw, at which point we have the excuse we need not to care about them any longer. It also opens up the darker parts of us to wish the worst upon them, and feel free of guilt in the process.
I try not to watch the news, but often the news will thrust itself into my awareness whether I want it to or not. This child died, these people were murdered, this old couple was beaten and left for dead. It saddens me beyond words. These words? Far too cheap to offer any kind of perspective on how I feel when I read and watch these events unfold.
As some of you know, I’m a devotee of George Carlin. I love his comedy, and consider him one of the most brilliant observers of human nature of the 20th and 21st centuries. He died back in 2008, but many of the things he said would come have been coming. He was a smart man who knew, who had figured out the pattern our society was following.
That said, George was a nihilist. While he believed individuals needed protection from institutional cruelty, and that everyone had a right to the safety of their own person as a result, he also believed in entropy as a necessary force for good. He liked entropy, and was “a fan” as he put it. So he was giddy every time he would see one more example of society racing toward the bottom, when we would do something that would fuck everything up for everyone, because he believed we would be our own demise.
On that point, I believe he was right. The thing is, I don’t want him to be right, I want him to be wrong. I want the best of humanity to not be an outlier, but the norm. I believe every human being possesses goodness, and that every person has the potential to be kind.
I am a student of Fred Rogers. You know him as “Mister Rogers,” of “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood” public television fame. Also known as the sweetest, kindest human being to live in our modern era (debatable, certainly, but he must be up there). Mr. Rogers instilled in me the awareness that guided me to help heal the pain of others. It wasn’t that he told me that I had to help, but he made me realize that I WANTED to help. I WANTED to ease suffering, to instill joy in the lives of others, to protect the innocent, defend the downhearted, and support the lost and lonely, to bring them back to the table and let them know they were loved.
Since I was a CHILD I knew this. It makes up the very essence of who I am. I think part of why I have these ups and downs are because I have a side of me that says “humanity is going to do itself in, they’re going to destroy themselves with hate, bigotry, violence, and cruelty,” while the other side of me says “human beings are worth saving, every person is worth redemption, and no one is too far gone to be loved.”
Both men were iconoclasts for the age, and both were brilliant in the mastery of their works, and yes, both men appeal to me on a fundamental level. I see the rightness in both of them, and the clarity of each man’s vision.
I am, of course, my own person. I follow my own path, I adhere to my own principles, but I do take away from each man what I believe to be the best of both. I do believe humanity takes far too much pleasure in revenge, in cruelty, in bigotry, that we do, as a species, revel in ignorance and hate. That being said, I also stand by the principles of Mr. Rogers, who believed that no one was beyond love and redemption, that no person was truly lost forever.
Can both of these ideas exist in my head? I can say with staunch affirmation that they do. Whether or not my mental health suffers from those ideas, whether they are simpatico or at loggerheads depends upon the day, my mood, and my physical and mental condition. When I’m tired, the downswing is massive. When I have strength, the upswing is mighty. One day I could stand before a firing squad and ask anyone if they caught the last episode of Jeopardy, the next I’m wanting to hide underneath my bed for fear of someone harming me in some way.
It’s certainly not healthy, but it is a part of who I am. I have fought with this state of being for many, many years. I don’t know what will come of it all, so I just take the maelstrom day by day, anchoring myself to the principles I hold most dear, and I ride it out, hoping to see the Sun each time.
You are loved.