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ASK DR. WRATH |
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The Denzel Training Day Ego Ruse
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Dear Dr. Wrath,
I am the editor of a semi-successful electronic magazine based somewhere in the Mountain Standard Time Zone, but lately I just haven't the slightest desire to keep on doing it. As of right now we are the ONLY voice for the emerging "poo-flinger" culture which has sprung up around the writings of world-renown "poo flinger" philosopher Buck Turdsworthington, and not a day goes by without some over-excited poo-flinger popping me an email telling me how great the zine is and urging me to keep going. Problem is, I don't know why I'm doing it anymore. We started with a noble intention: to dirty ourselves in the world of poo-flinging in order to transform it from within. But we lost site of that goal and got caught up in Poo Flinging for Poo Flinging’s sake. What's the noble way out of this quagmire?
Sincerely,
Rodrigo P. McManus
Editor, Poo-Flinger E-zine
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Dear Rodrigo,
Your situation reminds me of the Ethan Hawke - Denzel Washington crime drama Training Day, with Ethan Hawke's "Jake" as your nobler self and Denzel's "Alonzo" as the worst impulses of your finite ego.
Like Alonzo, you got into poo-flinging for the noblest of reasons, but without a solid spiritual practice to ground your poo-flinging in the pristine state of non poo-flinging, you started getting the crap on you. Similarly, Alonzo knew, and rightly so, he had to smoke drugs, drink some beer, and mix it up with the homies as a "skillful means" to accomplish his nobler goal of taking down narcotics empires. But without any sort of yoga, without an anchor point outside of this shady, dark world, Alonzo got caught up in it, became dependent on it, and pissed off a bunch of Russians (not to mention a block full of Bloods) in his relentless quest for body-mind gratification. Animal.
And then there's your nobler self, your transcendental Jake going along for the ride on his first day of work, shocked at what it sees, high on PCP as Alonzo robs people with the use of fake warrants, tortures homeless bums, and kills a best friend (and blames it on Jake). Amazing how the Alonzo-Ego can justify even the worst behavior--the most pointless articles, the most badly-edited feature stories, the most horrendously-designed HTML layouts--in order to feed itself. I've been watching your e-zine for some time, and the devolution from tightly-organized literary stronghold to foul-mouthed, lazy, unreliable e-rag has been nastier than the bloody pavement beneath Alonzo's Kalashnikov-riddled body at the end of the movie. Alonzo got caught in a web of shifting gang loyalties, corrupt cops, and the hall of mirrors that is Human Desire, and couldn’t find his way out. Watch yo’ back Rodrigo.
See, like being a Narcotics Investigator in one of the biggest, nastiest cities in the world, running an e-zine gives you a lot of power, and it can be abused. Alonzo used his power to score tail, drive around with a six-pack of Tecate in his lap, and pin a murder on the hapless Jake, just like you’ve exploited your niche in the Poo-Flinger community (and your proximity to Buck Turdsworthington himself) for fortune and fame, while giving little back beyond a random batch of articles every few weeks.
But there is hope, and it lies NOT in further indulging your worst e-zine fantasies, your cheap marketing gimmicks, publicity stunts, celebrity interviews and the like. No, hope lies in maintaining your connection to the original intention, to keeping your head clear and not losing sight of first principles. Just being an e-zine editor is not enough to make one noble, Alonzo was proof of that. Instead of sinking to your knees in the midst of a block full of gang members, screaming things like “King Kong ain’t got shit on me!” and “You can shoot me, but you can’t kill me!” as you tear your hair out trying to get f__king GoLive to cooperate, take a minute to breathe, to think, to ask: “is what I’m doing really making a difference? Is it easing suffering? Is Poo-Flinger the best use of God-given talents?”
And if not: walk away, quit your job, turn in your badge, or, if you’re ballsy like Jake, take your Alonzo-Ego head-on with a gun and your fists. As Jake proved, in the end, Goodness No Matter What does sometimes prevail.
Why even bother, you ask? Remember what Alonzo’s tattoo said: “Death is Certain, Life is Not.” So quit wasting time….
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