The why of cynicism

You know why I think that adults, including me, (very sadly, since I'm among the more idealistic of my age, I think, and have always thought of myself as a truer idealist than most people of any generation) grow cynical, I think.

Because we all find out that no matter how much we contribute, how much we give everything that we have, no matter how much we try to be the best people and best professionals and give the best that we absolutely have.

That we are all all expendable. That it is never enough. And that the culprits for this situation is all of us, even and especially the good folks who give their all around us.

To our credit, we are better to children than we are to one another. But then we go on to rationalize and make excuses for why our uglier impulses tell us we should be shittier in our treatment of young people (especially young people in trouble, with the law or otherwise) rather than why our treatment of one another should be better.

None of us seem to matter, really, to one another, except when it is too late. We miss each other when we are gone. And treat each other like shit while we're around (and people like Christopher Hitchens and Robert Novak treat people like shit whether they're here or gone, apparently, so sour were their obituaries for a decent man like Gerald Ford; Hitchens lowballs persistently, so we shouldn't expect too much from someone who holds everyone in such low regard and himself in such high regard).

I don't really know how to help humanity out of this rut, anymore, is the truth. We treat each other so awful. And if you're someone who wants people to be more decent to one another, you just open yourself up to people who feel a need to prove to you just how naive you are about how shitty people can be and treating you shitty, just to prove their point).

We make each other and ourselves unhappy. And then we look at the mess we've created and we say, "You see how shitty people are? That's why I'm such an asshole."

I do my best to change that, but I'm limited by people choosing to always make excuses for what dicks they are, all the time.

Jesus was this very decent guy. The world was full of dicks who captured, tortured and crucified him. And that's about how the world treats decent people.

Billy Budd is Herman Melville's update of the Christ story. Billy is a sweet, idealistic young man. Claggart is a dick with a grudge against the world and something to prove to Billy about how naive his sweetness really is. Claggart sends Billy over the edge and Billy kills Claggart with a blow, by accident. The ship hangs Billy, with the dickish impulses of the captain overruling the decent impulses of the ships' officers. And that's about how the world treats decent people.

We are all, generally, decent people. Even when we're being shitheads. Most of us, at least. And the world shits on us. It flunks us. It fires us. It evicts us. It throws us out. It puts us in our place. It tries to prove why the selfish or destructive impulses of some are more clever than the more decent impulses of others. And it tries to prove why the self-righteous impulses of many of us are smarter than the more understanding impulses of others.

And that's about how the world treats decent people.

And so we grow cynical in a world that treats us like shit. Or threatens to. So much that we forget what it was like to be appreciated when we volunteered to do good efforts out of our generosity or on our honor or our sense of doing good in the world.

And that's the why of cynicism, I think.

I've never wanted to give into it. The cynicism. But I do have to say that it sure has a way of making it's point.

I've got to believe there's something better out there. Even as a possibility for how we might be.

But the reality is too goddamn depressing to just accept as the only or best option.

I've got an office to clean up. Have a good weekend.

Love,
Ben