Thursday, 22 October 2015

Heroes and Villains

They say you should never meet your heroes. They will ultimately be a disappointment to you. Far better to see them as the infallible creature that we're blessed to have grace this planet. But that's foolish, what person over the age of 12 thinks anyone is perfect ? We live in the age of the anti-hero: where the protagonist has some vice or hampering that makes him/her someone you can relate to.

James Bond has his drinking. Abraham Lincoln thought black people were a different race from white people. Vin Diesel clearly has a speech impediment.

Being imperfect is to be human. It's to be real. And lord knows how important it is to be real. We all remember the moment we realized our dad wasn't the strongest guy in the world. Or when you discovered that someone else's mother could make a meal that made you want to run home and tell your mother how disappointed you were in the half-assed shit she called a meal.

That moment of clarity when the person your loins and heart long for says something utterly stupid or when their breath smells slightly stale(Which is a very different thing from stink). that's the moment when you go from infantile adoration to mature admiration set in the real world. In knowing that people , no matter how great or other worldly, have moments of failure, of embarrassment. You learn that having heroes is overrated.

We put people on pedestals only to watch them struggle to keep their balance. We raise them u and then enjoy watching them fall because in a way it makes us feel better. We derive a sort of sick enjoyment watching someone rise..but then we enjoy it even more when they stumble and break. Because then we can feel better about our own lives.

It's the same felling we have when we start to notice a friend of ours do really well in life as we still struggle. Everyone has their chains and it's comforting to know that thought some may have gone a little further than we have, they can only run so fast before falling under the weight of our expectations.

There's an idea that life is a normal distribution. There are a few extremes but the vast majority settle somewhere in the middle. It's unnerving to view the people who are at the extremes. Too far one way and we avert our eyes from the people barely making it, the people that would kill to have our lives. Too far the other way, and we see all the things we wish we could have. The things we thought we could have as kids but now as we ferry ourselves to work every day, we slowly realize just how pedestrian we are. No matter how many parties, weekend shindigs or drinks we knock back, that we must accept that for most of us, average is were we will live.

We craft heroes and role models out of the people we aspire to become or more honestly, the people that have what we want. And as we realize we can't have it , we relish in the news that the 1% may not be as happy as we think. We seat around excited about the latest reports about divorced Hollywood celebrities or disgraced musicians. When our friend with the posh job loses his house after being laid off..we cognitively understand this to be a bad thing, but there's a part of us, some reptilian remnant, that makes us feel like the rubber band has gone back to its normal position after being stretched just a little too far.

And perhaps the best thing we can do is to admit this to ourselves. To realize also that there's someone behind you. Someone who wants what you have and is either in the stage where they admire you completely or loathe you bitterly. You're probably someone's hero and someone's villain. As in right now, as you feel just sort of above average...(which is actually the most average thing to think), someone somewhere is hoping you're unhappy with all you have while simultaneously thinking that if they got it, they would be truly happy and appreciate it in ways you never could.

We're a curious creature indeed.

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5 to go!!!!


Kirabo Byabashaija said...

Sigh... Jowelloooo!!!!
You blog constantly makes me brave the Blogspot-Commenting-Nightmare.

You curious child, how can you call mummy's cooking 'half-assed shit'... However much of a gourmet chef your friend's mummy was, you never-ever-in-this-lifetime call your mummy's cooking that. Alas, you do have a point, not about mummy's cooking, but the other stuff - the hero-villain jazz.

Anonymous said...

Lol! Bambi leave Vinnie and his ka-limi!

(Kirabo, blogspot is responsible for the loss of half a dreadlock.:( )

We are fearfully and wonderfully made. And yes, you can acknowledge that in a non-Jesus-loving way.

You should watch Kevin Hart Seriously Funny. He tells about the day he watched his daddy get his butt kicked.