The Blame Game

By Travs Epes

Welcome back readers. I know I said that this post would explain the Internet’s importance, but Eric’s talk of betrayal got my cogs spinning in a different direction (as I hope it did to yours). It reminded me of watching The Power Rangers when I was a wee tyke and thinking, “High school’s gonna be nothing but drinking smoothies and beating up bad guys!”

Like these two

There were plenty of bad guys, but I never did find those smoothies. It wasn’t until college that I got to questioning this crazy hoax.  Actually hot-wiring a motorcycle was a lot harder than the quick download Trinity got in The Matrix. All that kung-fu I picked up from The Power Rangers didn’t give me any advantages in lunch room brawls. All they offered was perfection — no assembly required.

That’s why we’re so disgruntled about it now. We’re confused because shows like Greek never explained why our best friend back home wouldn’t be able to afford enrollment at a state college (despite being accepted to it and four others). Others are pissed because their drunken debauchery got them a DUI instead of getting them lucky. Television, movies, and pop-culture created this consequence-free reality, but is it entirely their fault we bought it?

The short answer is yes. To paraphrase the same quote from Chuck Palahniuk’s Fight Club, our workaholic parents left television in charge to raise us inside a superficial fantasy world. We wanted our MTV and celeb gossip columns to include us in a world to which we could never belong. Of course, everyday “nobodies” create artistic masterpieces and sign bazillion dollar sports contracts all the time. The entertainment industry just forgets to mention that for every Jessica Simpson and Tim Tebow, there are millions of people whose only work aspiration is an “Employee of the Month” award.

At least their losers don't cry

Now before you jump down to the comment box and flame me for ragging on the Average Joes, understand that there’s nothing wrong with finding purpose in a middle or lower class life. It’s no secret that mansions of wealth won’t buy happiness. It just seems wasteful that our generation trades its potential breakthroughs for a window into Avril Lavinge’s divorce settlement. Rather than ask ourselves why we pay more for groceries instead of buying them locally, we ignore the question and distract ourselves with tabloids at the supermarket’s cash register. Once we realize we’ll never be action heroes or supermodels, we jump to fan-worshiping those who have achieved. Why should I rebel and strike against my oppressive government, when I can watch a bad-ass in a Guy Fox mask take ‘em down for me?

V for Vacant Dreams

Now for the long answer. As convenient as it may be, we can’t blame movie stars or television shows for seducing us with the scripted reality we paid them for. I hate to break it to you, but Edward Norton never organized an underground fight club. Robert Downey Jr. never constructed a robotic superhero-suit. Johnny Depp never committed a savage burn on Las Vagas, or ever owned a chocolate factory.

The blame is ours for confusing one actor’s performance with their person. Maybe this is just my own shortcoming. I see a borderline depressed indie kid hook-up with Zooey Deschanel and I think, “Wait a minute. I use The Smiths to drown my moody angst — maybe I can get a girl like Zooey too!” The character in (500) Day of Summer certainly exists, as does her bewitching actress. It may sound simple to say we confuse an actor with their character, but I have to ask, how many people do you know watched all three Pirates of the Caribbean just to see Johnny Depp (not Jack Sparrow) swig rum and swashbuckle?

Why's the plot always gone?

In and of itself, obsessing over particular actors or actresses isn’t the problem. I see all of Keanu Reeve’s terrible movies because his role in Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure gave me permanent man-crush on him. We run into a problem when that obsession breaks the wall between fiction and reality. Keanu Reeves as Ted Logan passed high school using Van Halen and time travel. For some weird reason, I doubt my history teacher would be as understanding. This example might sound a little extreme, but it makes my point: We’ve stopped recognizing the difference between our lives and the lives pop-culture sells to us.

This fluid reality bends both ways. We imagine ourselves as great characters or musicians just as easily as we applaud ourselves for being above certain adulterous or drug abusing athletes. Some might argue we’re victims of a corporate machine bent on sucking dry our wallets and souls, but I think that gives them too much credit. We work against ourselves by blaming some invisible and greedy executive. This removes any personal responsibility, and only tightens their supposed control over us.

It may be hard to ignore their endless output of advertisements and rehashed movies, especially when the life they offer appears so much easier than our own. We must remember that they only do it for our enjoyment. We need to find that cancer-curing inspiration within our own lives. We can’t expect a two-hour film or thirty minute television show to reveal our age-defining purpose. If we ever learn this, perhaps our generation (or the one we raise) will be the first to escape this cycle of being entertained into contentment.

For next time, I’ll finally start explaining the überness of the Internet – and how it will eventually be our savior from this Grand Betrayal. Oh and as always, please leave a message or two about what you’d want to hear more/less of. Otherwise, I’ll just keep ranting about whichever topic Eric and I find interesting.

Peace out true believers,

TE