The Greeks told a story of a man named “Narcissus.” Narcissus was very handsome, and he knew it. One day, he happened to peer into a river and caught a glimpse of his own reflection. Narcissus fell in love. He became so enamored with his own image that he fell into the river and drowned.
Our culture is constantly harping on Self. Self-esteem, self-help, self-improvement. We seek lovers, but we have no interest in loving, only in being loved. We seek food and drink, but we have no interest in satiation, only in satisfaction.
We consume everything. Clothes, food, television, each other. We consume as if consuming were the same as enjoying.
Maybe I should invest in a life-jacket.
Stay safe this summer, America.
Update (because this story just CONTINUES to piss me off):
There are people who, in the aftermath of the UCSB shooting, defended the actions of mass-murdering, misogynist psychopath Elliott Rodgers. These people exist. They ride the bus. They own swimming pools. They queue politely at the “Please Wait To Be Seated” sign at Chili’s.
This didn’t happen after Columbine. This didn’t happen after Virginia Tech. This didn’t happen after Therrell.
Let’s ignore for the moment that a shooting that left 5 Atlanta high school kids injured barely made the local news. What the heck is wrong with our culture that we’ll defend Rodgers but not that crazy Connecticut guy? What, because Rodgers was a victim? Oh, boo hoo. He couldn’t get a date and had to stay a virgin. Horror of horrors. Guess that justifies ultra-violence. No. It doesn’t.
Rodgers’s actions were indefensible. His videos are indefensible. His entire philosophy was a warm blanket of narcissism coated in a thick layer of hate.
I’m sorry to get this upset on a weekend. Rodgers ruined my Memorial Day, and the stink of him lingers. Rant over. Let us never speak of this again.