We were “clicking” through Netflix and happened on a “comedy” special by some guy named “Bo.” My son stopped and said, “let’s watch this.” Done mostly in song, it started funny, if dark, and then spiraled from there into misery, mental illness and hopelessness.
We talked afterward. What, I asked, was this obsessive embrace of misery? We batted around some theories, from macro misery to micro, but ultimately decided that while most young people don’t want to be miserable, it’s the only guaranteed way not to offend, be vulnerable to destruction and receive some validation that they aren’t worthless failures in a world where everything is “literally” horrible. How can one be happy and hopeful in this kind of world?
Apparently, Frank Bruni of the New York Times is gay. I didn’t know. I didn’t need to know. I didn’t care and still don’t. That’s fine, neither more nor less fine than if he was delisexual as far as I’m concerned. But it mattered enough to him that he choose to use his soapbox to write about how wonderful it was to be gay him. Finally, a message of hope, I thought to myself. And this was how it opened.
The world is on fire. That’s no exaggeration, as The Times Opinion section’s recent canvass of the effects of climate change around the globe demonstrated. We are speeding — or should I say sizzling? — toward disaster. That prospect has instilled a kind of existential dread in the globe’s younger denizens, and understandably so.
There’s a fierce and terrifying attack on democracy underway in the United States, in which ideological differences grow ever sharper, tribal rivalries get ever uglier and a pandemic that should have brought us together drives us farther and farther apart. Our political leaders seem either lost or at a loss. We lurch from one crisis to the next.
There is, in other words, a glut of grim. So why don’t I feel entirely glum? Why don’t the feelings within me precisely match the chatter around me, which is that everything is getting worse?
As an aside, I watched the Times’ “Postcards from a World on Fire.” It’s moving, scary and dishonest. Climate change is real, but not every problem is rooted in climate change. But I digress.
Bruni goes on to explain how the world has changed for gay people, who no longer need to hide in the closet but can be who they are. And that, of course, is a wonderful thing. But even something as positive as that had to be prefaced by special pleadings of catastrophe, because how else was he to avoid the condemnation that would follow his failure to first signal his recognition that everything is horrible? What would all the people, straight, gay, trans or clairvoyant, think if he neglected to tip his hat to misery?
The world has always had problems. People have always had problems. Each of us have always had problems. This isn’t new. This isn’t unique to these times. And yet, we woke up in the morning and wondered, what will the day bring? Maybe it will be another problem, but maybe, just maybe, it will be something wonderful. Maybe we will make a new friend. Maybe we will meet someone to love. Maybe something joyous will happen to others. Maybe we can bring some joy to others.
Sure, we won’t cure cancer or end world hunger, but we can make the life of someone a little better, a little happier. It won’t get us a gazillion “likes” on social media or cause a mob to erect a statue in our honor, but it can help someone have a better day than they would have had if we weren’t there.
Even though I’m Jewish, I’ve always loved Christmas. It’s a seasonal thing, a time when people stop looking for reasons to be angry, to hate, to be miserable. Peace on earth, goodwill toward men. And women. And people. Why this needs a season is a decent question, but I’ll take whatever joy the world can offer, even if it’s a bit forced. I choose not to wallow in misery, but to seek out hopefulness and share it.
If you want to argue how and why everything is awful, to catastrophize every problem, large and small as the worst ever, and to live in despair, then you will likely get what you deserve. As for me, I want a world where we do what we can to make it better, happier, more hopeful for everyone, even if we can only do so one person at a time. If you want to wallow in misery, you will be miserable and you will spread misery to others. I choose hope.
I wish you tidings of comfort and joy.
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Merry Christmas, Scott (Jewish, or otherwise!).
Merry Christmas, Mr. Greenfield.
Happy Holidays, Scott. To you and all SJ readers.
And as my Irish ancestors say, “May the best of this past year, be the worst of this next!”.
Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, and thanks for everything you do throughout the year.
By the way, I hesitate to ask but must know: ‘what the heck is ‘delisexual?’ Does that involve gefilte fish or some other horrible permutation on the theme?
I think a “delisexual” is one who likes spicy mustard on their Reuben sandwich, instead of the traditional Thousand Island dressing.
Happy Holidays to all and a Happy New Year.
Replacing Thousand Island dressing with spicy mustard on a Reuben?
That’s not a world I want for my kids.
Merry Christmas Mike!
“If it bleeds it ledes” has traveled from the news media into the minds of those who seek attention by sharing some misery, whether real or fabricated.
All the best, and enjoy some Chinese food and a movie. Maybe a real comedy this time.
Blessings and joy to you, the other contributors, and all the readers both in this season and in the year to come. I am grateful for all of you.
Happy Christmas, Scott+family…and everyone who hangs out, or just occasionally drops by.
It seems that one is considered a shitlord if you have a cherry and you talk about how much joy it brings you.
To speak lovingly of the cherry without first placing it on top of a lukewarm, horseshit milkshake, is at this point, verboten.
Have we crossed the threshold to where we are now incapable of experiencing untainted joy?
My Christmas wish for all of you is that the answer to that question is a resounding NO!
If there is no dancing in your revolution, I don’t want it.
My standard Christmas greeting.
“Bah. Humbug. But have a merry Christmas anyway.”
The entire family is home under one roof this year.
Today I’ll get to see certain family members I’ve not seen in two years.
A fresh coat of snow fell where we are last night. My kids think all of this makes for the Best Christmas Ever.
Presents are under the nicely decorated tree.
And I’ve actually caught up on sleep in the last week.
If there’s anything to be miserable about, I can’t see it for the life of me.
Merry Christmas, my mean-ass editor.
To all the SJ readers, our cultural ambassadors, and beyond:
May you have a Merry Christmas, and your holiday bring you as much joy as mine’s brought me.
The world isn’t on fire. Our rulers, their billionaire spokesmodels, their puppet politicians and their lying media are fear-mongering as usual. The narrative changes over the years, from drug dealers to terrorists to viruses, but the underlying message is always the same. “Be afraid, and give us more power.”
The good news is, they have overplayed their hand this time, and their credibility has never been lower. I’m more hopeful now than I’ve been in years. Merry Christmas!
To Scott, Seaton, and the Judge: Thanks guys. Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas, Keyser! Check your email when you get a second–I finally had the time to write you back today!
Thanks for stopping by!
Ditto, what KeyserSoze wrote.
The
worldhero needs aheroworld.These people actually have great lives, so they must find something about which to be miserable. As you have noted before, misery and victimhood are all the rage these days. What else is the upper-middle class kid whose parents are paying for their Harvard education supposed to do?
Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and all the other things.
You mentioning you are Jewish reminded me that probably a majority of Christmas song were written by Jewish composers. The obvious ones ; White Christmas ( Berlin.. ;Christmas song( Mel Tor’me and less well known composers but very familiar songs ; Santa Claus is coming to town ( J. Fred coots..
I should also mention a favorite Christmas poem done by another Jewish composer ; Shel Silverstein… too cynical to share here.
I do wonder in todays world of identity lunacy how the idea of the ‘ wrong person writing a song would be received.
Merry Christmas.
I’m a committed Lurker and a long-time cynic. Sometimes your blog entry is the only thing (aside from being married to a wonderful wife and having a loving family) that brings me joy that day. Thank you for that gift, and may you have a Merry Christmas and a much Happier New Year.
“world where everything is “literally” horrible.”
That’s how our public education system works.
Here in Quebec, they learn about how the French were abused by the English for centuries. It’s pretty much the only history they learn.
How we committed genocide on the enlightened natives who were gentle stewards of the land we stole from them.
How every act contributes to the destruction of Gaia and the ultimate extinction of all life.
They never experienced the civil rights movement and see nothing wrong with segregated ‘safe’ spaces.
They have been so inculcated about the bad things that the only solution they see is an enlightened government who can undo all the evils in the name of equality.
Once the Holocaust is forgotten, there are no more defenses against it happening again, against a different target.
I’m also Jewish, but our annual Christmas get-together in the country with friends has been cancelled due to COVID concerns…
Merry Christmas? Bah. Humbug…
Whatever happened to being strong and invincible anyway?
During religious instruction while in public school and later in Catholic schools our Jewish brethren were referred to with respect always, because from them we have Christian scripture. Every Mass has readings from both.
Merry Christmas to you and the SJ readers and contributors.