See You In The Funny Papers

I'll start off by mentioning that this post was inspired by an exchange that occurred after convocation on Monday. I, after getting a typical answer to a typical question, decided that, instead of responding like I typically would, I would just let it go and stop trying to knock sense into people, because all it does is make me frustrated when they don't listen. Not long after (in fact, as I was walking up the stairs to leave the Vines Center), it struck me that by not attempting to promote what I believed to be right, instead of influencing other people for the better, I was, in my estimation, myself being influenced for the worse. My efforts up to this point had come and gone without effect, and I realized this. But then I realized on the way out of the Vines Center that not only had all my efforts been in vain, but I had finally been made to shut up. Effectively, I had lost, and with the realization that I would not be able make any kind of impact, I had lost for good.

But was I really the one who lost?

I pondered this as I sat in the 11:25 large lecture section of Coms 101, and when I heard Dr. Mullen say to the class in an example he was using to illustrate a point, "I appreciate the fact that you were brave enough to stand up for what you believe is right," I started tinkering with the idea a little more. Maybe I shouldn't view so many things in life as a battle, maybe my aggressive side and my desire for victory distorts things to beyond a reasonable point. But if you look at everything as though it were a fight, a struggle between the way things are and the way they should be, then maybe you have a better chance of actually making things the way they should be. Plus, it makes life seem a lot less meaningless and a lot more epic.

But then I think of the futility espoused in the fight itself. Just because it's something worth fighting for doesn't mean you can necessarily make a real difference. You can try and try to explain things to people, and sometimes it just won't get through, and that's just a minor, reasonably inconsequential example of the overarching point. When you reach that stage, maybe it is best to just give up, because your efforts are being wasted anyway. The world is a terrible place, and in the end, try as we might, there's really nothing any of us can do to make it any better. Maybe it's best to do what we can, what is necessary, let everyone else hang themselves, and grin and bear it.

If everyone would get over that one sex scene that has essentially branded Watchmen as Evil: The Movie among the Christian crowd, maybe people could realize that not only is Watchmen very deep on a literary and artistic level, but there is also a lot of wisdom to be found within the book (and movie, since the movie was an impeccably faithful adaptation). The two mindsets I described in the previous paragraphs encapsulate bits of the worldviews of Rorschach and The Comedian, respectively. This is something I wonder about frequently, and I can't decide which one is right. Rorschach, though only one man, did everything he could to protect the innocent and impose justice upon wrongdoers; it was essentially his sole purpose in life. I have great respect for him, even though he was a fictional character, because he stuck with his principles until the very end, and did not compromise, "even in the face of Armageddon." Edward Blake, The Comedian, on the other hand, didn't have such a strictly defined view of the way things should be. He was the ultimate realist; he saw things as they are, irreparably terrible, and acted accordingly. He did what was necessary to get whatever job that was at hand done, regardless of the consequences, because ultimately, the world was still the same messed up place it was before, and nothing he could do would change that fact. He saw humanity's savage nature, and knew that any attempt to fix it was just a joke.

As a brief aside, I've heard criticism of The Comedian's character, saying he was a jerk and that he was "not funny." Very true, he did some awful things, but that's part of what makes his character so interesting. His very existence was a play on what it is to be a hero, because he committed some despicable deeds while still being a "good guy." And true, he was not funny, but that's the point. He wasn't The Joker. The point was that he understood the great cosmic joke, he was in on it, he got why everything we do is so funny, and remembering this actually puts a smile on my face even when things seem awful. To an outsider, the futility of many of our daily endeavors would seem hilarious. Consider this: many of the funniest movies involve what we would consider, were we going through them, terrible hardships, or at the very least major inconveniences. Take a movie like National Lampoon's Vacation. It's so funny because it's not happening to us. Edward Blake grasped this, and decided he'd rather be in on the gag: "Once you figure out what a joke everything is, being The Comedian's the only thing makes sense." It helps put things in perspective.

I wish I were more like Rorschach, but in truth, I think I'm more like The Comedian, and on even more levels than I can address here. But even Rorschach, the most morally convicted and honorable character, who was completely right throughout the entirety of the story, acknowledged that The Comedian saw things the right way:

We do what we have to do. Others bury their heads between the swollen teats of indulgence and gratification, piglets squirming beneath a sow for shelter... but there is no shelter... and the future is bearing down like an express train. Blake understood. Treated it like a joke, but he understood. He saw the cracks in society, saw the little men in masks trying to hold it together... he saw the true face of the twentieth century and chose to become a reflection, a parody of it. No one else saw the joke. That's why he was lonely.

The issue I addressed at the beginning is of little importance, and in truth, was actually of little consequence, but the basic principle remains the same. I know I'm not the only one out there dealing with this kind of thing, whether to fight for what you believe in or just laugh it off and let people screw themselves over, reassured by the fact that you were actually right. Personally, I think the latter option is more practical, not because I've been defeated, but because I've realized the futility of the struggle in the face of an unfixable circumstance, and indeed, even its inherent humor.

And the punchline to the joke is asking, 'Someone save us.'
-My Chemical Romance