Reflections of Me: Who Am I Gonna Call?
Who ya gonna call?
I think we can all fill in the answer to that by now. The little film that could, and did. It took a fear, and made us laugh at it. A fun fantasy; something strange, in the neighborhood? Who ya gonna call?
What, though, of the actual realities that make us afraid? The fears that don't stop with the end credits? The ones that follow us home, take up residence in our minds, threaten our way of life or our very existence? We've renamed most of them, of course: instead of fears, we call them phobias. The emotion they engender, however, feels like fear to those experiencing it. I have mine ( heights, and deep water ). I've faced both, managed, but the fear remains, so I avoid both as much as I can. Most of us do exactly that. By naming them phobias, we were able to create a system whereby, if we were affluent enough, we could pay someone to listen to us and help us work through our fears. I hear that even works. Sometimes.
But, what of the fears that we experience that even we realize are irrational? The dark : by itself, just a absence of light. But what is it hiding? Nothing, 99% of the time. It is simply the same space we saw when it was lighted, just now without the light. In fact, what the dark is hiding is : us. And, sometimes, it isn't the dark we should fear : it's what happens in the light, right in front of us. We have become so used to instant gratification that we fail to see the scary monster right in front of us, because it is not instantly a monster. It simply intends to become one. The wolf, hiding in sheep's clothing, as it were. We have grown so trusting that we fail to see warning signs, thinking we will be protected anyway.
We recently went through almost exactly that. Our Nation's 2016 political campaign ripped the bandages off a festering wound we had tried to ignore, one we knew was there but thought had been treated. Instead, it became a ugly, maggot-infested disease that was just waiting it's chance to reveal itself once again: a monster we thought we'd been keeping in the closet. But it had been there, in the light the entire time, waving guns and carrying signs. The closet held the ghosts of our past, and suddenly we allowed a ignorant, talent-less, pseudo TV personality to open it and turn the monster loose. Someone would have, eventually. We have to face our fears at some point. But, who do we call for battling these ghosts?
I know who I call on. Those who can make me laugh. It's a talent, one we all think we have but few of us actually do. I think of them as Fearbusters. They find a way to focus on some of the worst topics, the worst possibilities, and point out our own foibles, our own weaknesses, and make us laugh. Some even manage to report on the things that those who are entrusted with reporting fail to focus upon. They say the things I don't always want to hear, but I need to hear, and, need to laugh at.
Sometimes, they may go a bit overboard. In today's world of what seems to be a focus on not offending anyone, some people want to make everything about offense. Recently, there was just such a occurrence. Humor can be funny, and it can be cruel. Sometimes, it has to be cruel to be effective, sometimes it is cruel just for the sake of cruelty. Some of us, most of us really, can tell the difference. If it's really good, truly funny, odds are it will offend someone. Because we know we must be offended to really understand why we are offended.
It's our fears that foster this, and we need the humorists to help us laugh at our fears. Because only by laughing at them can we bring them into the open, and reveal them for what they are. Our own minds, putting monsters that don't really exist in every shadowy corner. We don't learn to hate, we are taught to hate what others fear, which simply feeds the need to fear something. Once we allow that to happen, we miss the warning signs of the monster we SHOULD fear. This is where the Fearbusters come in.
The good ones, the ones with the vision, can help us focus. When we feel overwhelmed by events, they can point out how ridiculous that feeling is. When we cannot seem to find the right words to describe how fearful we are, they provide us with the right words, and even help us see where we might have been wrong, or, afraid of the wrong thing when what we should have feared was humming along in the background while we allowed ourselves to be distracted by what was right in front of us.
Sometimes, they may use rather strong language to accomplish this. Some may be offended by it. One thing the offended have in common ; their fears run deepest, and one thing they are most afraid of is laughing at themselves. They would rather be told they are right to fear. They would rather laugh at someone, rather than accept that they are the joke. They find it humorous to mimic the physically disabled, rather than admit their own fear of becoming disabled themselves. They would rather demean people of other races, sexes, and nationalities rather than admit their fear that those folks are better people than they themselves are.
The Fearbusters won't do that. They will instead offer us the chance to laugh at our own weaknesses, our own fears, and if some won't come to see that, they will target their phobias and failings and expose them for the vile, disgusting, and regressive piles of trash they are. So, if you think your chosen idol is picked on mercilessly, consider this : maybe they, and their chosen policies, deserve it.
As usual, my opinions, my own thoughts. Sometimes I think too much. I admit it. Other times ; well, maybe I don't think enough. If I feel that has happened, I turn to my own Fearbusters. Sometimes, they slap me right in the face, but, you know what? Sometimes, we ALL need that.
I think we can all fill in the answer to that by now. The little film that could, and did. It took a fear, and made us laugh at it. A fun fantasy; something strange, in the neighborhood? Who ya gonna call?
What, though, of the actual realities that make us afraid? The fears that don't stop with the end credits? The ones that follow us home, take up residence in our minds, threaten our way of life or our very existence? We've renamed most of them, of course: instead of fears, we call them phobias. The emotion they engender, however, feels like fear to those experiencing it. I have mine ( heights, and deep water ). I've faced both, managed, but the fear remains, so I avoid both as much as I can. Most of us do exactly that. By naming them phobias, we were able to create a system whereby, if we were affluent enough, we could pay someone to listen to us and help us work through our fears. I hear that even works. Sometimes.
But, what of the fears that we experience that even we realize are irrational? The dark : by itself, just a absence of light. But what is it hiding? Nothing, 99% of the time. It is simply the same space we saw when it was lighted, just now without the light. In fact, what the dark is hiding is : us. And, sometimes, it isn't the dark we should fear : it's what happens in the light, right in front of us. We have become so used to instant gratification that we fail to see the scary monster right in front of us, because it is not instantly a monster. It simply intends to become one. The wolf, hiding in sheep's clothing, as it were. We have grown so trusting that we fail to see warning signs, thinking we will be protected anyway.
We recently went through almost exactly that. Our Nation's 2016 political campaign ripped the bandages off a festering wound we had tried to ignore, one we knew was there but thought had been treated. Instead, it became a ugly, maggot-infested disease that was just waiting it's chance to reveal itself once again: a monster we thought we'd been keeping in the closet. But it had been there, in the light the entire time, waving guns and carrying signs. The closet held the ghosts of our past, and suddenly we allowed a ignorant, talent-less, pseudo TV personality to open it and turn the monster loose. Someone would have, eventually. We have to face our fears at some point. But, who do we call for battling these ghosts?
I know who I call on. Those who can make me laugh. It's a talent, one we all think we have but few of us actually do. I think of them as Fearbusters. They find a way to focus on some of the worst topics, the worst possibilities, and point out our own foibles, our own weaknesses, and make us laugh. Some even manage to report on the things that those who are entrusted with reporting fail to focus upon. They say the things I don't always want to hear, but I need to hear, and, need to laugh at.
Sometimes, they may go a bit overboard. In today's world of what seems to be a focus on not offending anyone, some people want to make everything about offense. Recently, there was just such a occurrence. Humor can be funny, and it can be cruel. Sometimes, it has to be cruel to be effective, sometimes it is cruel just for the sake of cruelty. Some of us, most of us really, can tell the difference. If it's really good, truly funny, odds are it will offend someone. Because we know we must be offended to really understand why we are offended.
It's our fears that foster this, and we need the humorists to help us laugh at our fears. Because only by laughing at them can we bring them into the open, and reveal them for what they are. Our own minds, putting monsters that don't really exist in every shadowy corner. We don't learn to hate, we are taught to hate what others fear, which simply feeds the need to fear something. Once we allow that to happen, we miss the warning signs of the monster we SHOULD fear. This is where the Fearbusters come in.
The good ones, the ones with the vision, can help us focus. When we feel overwhelmed by events, they can point out how ridiculous that feeling is. When we cannot seem to find the right words to describe how fearful we are, they provide us with the right words, and even help us see where we might have been wrong, or, afraid of the wrong thing when what we should have feared was humming along in the background while we allowed ourselves to be distracted by what was right in front of us.
Sometimes, they may use rather strong language to accomplish this. Some may be offended by it. One thing the offended have in common ; their fears run deepest, and one thing they are most afraid of is laughing at themselves. They would rather be told they are right to fear. They would rather laugh at someone, rather than accept that they are the joke. They find it humorous to mimic the physically disabled, rather than admit their own fear of becoming disabled themselves. They would rather demean people of other races, sexes, and nationalities rather than admit their fear that those folks are better people than they themselves are.
The Fearbusters won't do that. They will instead offer us the chance to laugh at our own weaknesses, our own fears, and if some won't come to see that, they will target their phobias and failings and expose them for the vile, disgusting, and regressive piles of trash they are. So, if you think your chosen idol is picked on mercilessly, consider this : maybe they, and their chosen policies, deserve it.
As usual, my opinions, my own thoughts. Sometimes I think too much. I admit it. Other times ; well, maybe I don't think enough. If I feel that has happened, I turn to my own Fearbusters. Sometimes, they slap me right in the face, but, you know what? Sometimes, we ALL need that.
Comments