Saturday, May 11, 2013

Fight Club & Your Life: A Love Story

Enjoying a nice Long Island Ice Tea with the padre.
Watching the Tigers and Saint JV.
Is there anything better in the world?
I submit that there is not.


I have two favorite movies.
The first is Requiem for a Dream.
Anyone else who has seen this piss-your-pants film about drug addiction has the same reaction:
"Holy shit, fuck heroin."
A secondary reaction is noticing a Wayans brother is in a movie that doesn't suck ass.
That's quite a rarity.
It also featured one of the most badass songs in cinematic history:

Yeah, it takes on a whole new meaning about you see Jared Leto's arm amputated to the beat.

But this post is about the other favorite movie.
Fight Club.
I've watched it so many damn times the DVD doesn't work anymore.
Other than to see Brad Pitt lookin' fine as hell, there is a good reason for this.
It's perhaps the only movie to actually look at the paradox of modern men.
It doesn't pussyfoot around or come up with some bullshit happy ending that isn't deserved.

I'm going on the assumption that most FHP readers have seen FC.
If not, you probably have shit taste in movies, so spoilers aren't a concern here.
While the plot is ostensibly about men fighting (or fucking if you believe the Internet), the rabbit hole goes much deeper.
Ed Norton's character faces a dilemma not all that uncommon.
Men evolved through millennia without the veneer of coherent civilization.
You ate, you slept, you fought, you fucked, then you died. 
But we are in a world far removed from the daily perils faced by our ancestors.
Comfort was never meant to be more than a luxury.
But now it's standard.
How does a species handle the transition from hunting wooly mammoths to trying to decide which color swath works best in the kitchen?
If you follow Tyler Durden (Norton's characters real name, along with his Brad Pitt split personality), attempting to destroy the world's credit system might be a good idea.

I go about it a different way.

As many have realized, our culture has pushed a lot of men into two equally shit-tastic camps.
The feminized pusspop who buries their instincts through the never-ending delusion of "being liked".
Or the over-compensating douchenozzle Jersey Shore wannabe, who also seems to give quite a shit about what others think.
It's odd.
Rather than hunting for meat, many simply hunt for acceptance.
That's the modern man's worst possible aspiration.
Acceptance is an ambition that can never be fulfilled.
But some never realize this.
Our brains were designed to make the joy of accomplishment short-lived.
If not, we wouldn't keeping striving for better.
"Acceptance" is a dumbass way many of us subconsciously try to get around that fact.
If people like you (tolerate is probably a better word), the thought process goes, then you will feel good everyday.
Our brains call bullshit.
And I think some of you have realized this as you progress through the stages of life.

This is clearly me making my own wild interpretation of the events in Fight Club.
But it has merit.
We evolved a certain way as a response to stimuli present for pretty much all of history, until now.
Figuring out how to adapt to our society through this lens is an issue all males have to come to terms with.
Do I have an answer?
No.
But I know what doesn't work.
Allowing others to mold your life generally leads to a pretty depressing journey.
Finding your own way is difficult.
It's still well worth the effort.

Unless you are still wearing Abercrombie into your twenties, in which case I hear cults can be kinda fun.

Peace.
JF.

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