I'm Tired of Cleaning Up After People Who Leave a Mess Behind 2b3t11

Why do we idolize irresponsible people? For as long as I can , the United States has glorified outlaws. From Billy the Kid to Bonnie and Clyde, there's something that's seen as romantic about a life on the run. I believe it ties into the concept of the personal mythology. We want to think of ourselves as the heroic protagonist engaged in a desperate struggle against a hostile world. Perhaps there's even some truth to the idea that the forces aligned against us are oppressive and unjust. Upgrade at 30% off and make my day! You don't have to ask around too long before you start hearing stories that strike you as fundamentally unfair. Maybe the bank took somebody's house away. Maybe a person was abducted and sent to work far from the land of his birth. There is no shortage when it comes to tales of injustice. When you hear about injustice, you clench your fist. You feel the strength coming to your muscles. You feel the thrill of electricity running down your spine. You want to use your power for good before that power fades away. So you react, but like an animal rather than a being of reason. You lash out. You inflict pain. Because, somewhere along the line, you conflate the idea of punishment with justice. You fail to recognize that the second your actions fall upon the innocent, you've taken your place among the oppressors. I the visceral sense of disquiet I felt when I first watched Bonnie and Clyde. Everything about that film wants you to view the titular couple as the heroes. You've been conditioned through watching countless other movies. They're handsome. They're dashing. They smile and laugh and flirt. Then, right out in the open, in plain view, they murder innocent people. They come up with reasons to justify murdering the innocent, but as much as you want to go along with the momentum of the narrative, it doesn't land with you. The film itself seems to recognize this drawback, and before you can process the consequences of what they've done, it's moved on to the next scene. They're driving. You get the thrill of movement. The wind tosses the young woman's hair. The young man holds up a wad of money. He's laughing. The music is loud. It's a party. They're dancing. Don't you want to be there in the car with them? Don't you want to leave all the miserable, horrific things behind? Don't you, too, want to pretend that none of the bad stuff exists? But reality is larger than what we choose to recognize. The mythology of irresponsible people is seductive, but the fact is that they leave a mess behind. Today, when we talk about real world consequences, the immutable voice of the internet rises up with the same old criticisms. “Why do you have to bring that up? I bet you're a lot of fun at parties.” The message is clear. They don't want harsh reality to intrude upon their illusions. Maybe it's because I've gotten older, or maybe it's because I'm slower, but I've come to learn you can't outrun your problems forever. No matter how fast the car, no matter how beautiful the woman, no matter how loud the music, no matter how much money you stole, reality is going to catch up with you eventually. When we glorify outlaws, we glorify the idea of outrunning the consequences. This is related to denying the consequences. “Don't tell me about that! I don't want to hear it! It's their own fault anyway! It wasn't me, it was them, them, them! I'm innocent, I'm great, I did nothing wrong!” But the bodies you leave in your wake don't disappear. Somebody has to find them. Somebody has to clean up the blood. Somebody has to inform the families that their child is never coming home. Yeah, that's the reality. Maybe what we have to accept is the guns and the money and the fast cars and the short, meaningless life isn't what it's cracked up to be. Yeah, I must be a downer at parties, I know. But the thing is, I'm not. I'm the reason there is music. I'm the reason there is food. I'm the reason there's a firm foundation for us to stand and dance and laugh together. It's the responsible people who create this, not the losers who flee. We idolize the notion of the drifter who set off in a sailboat, or on a horse, or on a motorcycle. He left all his problems behind. Rather than stand fast and address them, he fled like a feckless coward. This is the persona we idolize? Consider the man who leaves his pregnant wife abandoned at the altar. You could argue that she's better off without him. Yes, she's better off without that version of him. That version of a man is worthless. Who ires a man who skips out on his responsibilities, who doesn't practice ability, who thinks only of himself? The enticing mythology of freedom is lovely right up until you get stuck on clean-up duty. Then you realize what a malicious lie it actually is. Maybe it's time to idolize a different class of people. Too often, communities don't want to even discuss their problems. They want to focus on how they're “exceptional.” They don't want to hear things that make them “feel bad about themselves.” They want to protect their personal mythology at all costs. When you pressure them about the blood in the streets and the agony in everyone's hearts, they put their hands over their ears and scream. They scream like an abandoned toddler. This is not the way. As for me, I have no problem sticking around to lend a helping hand. It's been my privilege to raise my children with my wife. We've helped each other through times of weakness. We've navigated challenges that initially presented as impossible. There have been times when we both had to resist the flight instinct. That's the difference between people like us, and the losers our society has come to idolize. We stood fast and handled the problem. The losers run away. It compels me to think that maybe the time has come for us to stop idolizing the cowards. Maybe it's time to hold them able. Maybe it's time to save our praise for the good men and women who are always stuck cleaning up the mess. “I'd rather Be Writing” exists because of your generous . If you have the means please consider upgrading to a paid sponsorship. I have payment tiers starting at as little as twenty dollars a year. I'm so happy you're here, and I'm looking forward to sharing more thoughts with you tomorrow. Upgrade at 30% off Upgrade at 40% off Upgrade at 50% off Upgrade at 60% off My CoSchedule referral link Here’s my referral link to my preferred headline analyzer tool. If you sign up through this, it’s another way to this newsletter (thank you). I'd Rather Be Writing is a reader-ed publication. To receive new posts and my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to I'd Rather Be Writing at walterrhein.substack.com/subscribe 4675r