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4 October, 2008

I just watched the VP Debate spoof on the opening of SNL.  … OMFG that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.  … Shout out to Finky.  RockBand must be fun.  … I wouldn’t know.  I kick it “old school” with a 1st gen XBox when I can.

Below I will submit my first English paper for my portfolio.  There are guidelines that had to be followed including mentioning something from the book “Inside Out” in the opening (at least) about it’s character Zach.  Also, it had to be a “problem” paper.  Structure, of course, was a rule.  … Anycase, the title is I’m a Liberal Elitist and You’re Wrong.  .. That isn’t in stone yet, though.

In the beginning, God created himself. . . . He wanted to be worshiped and adored and wanted to be exclusive. His creation of man was to be like him (yea, in his “image”) and to be subservient to him. However, it wasn’t enough that God created a perfect version of himself to be better than. So, from the rib of the man (to be safe) came woman. Sleek, sexy, appealing to the senses, and with a vagina; symbolizing that the woman should only accept and obey. God is the original Elitist. Whether you believe he is/was real, or if you believe he is a creation of man’s own mind; he is, in fact, the original and traditional “own all, know all, all powerful, I’m right and you’re wrong” Elitist. . . . It is because of God that I too am an Elitist.

Though I was indoctrinated to believe so harshly as such, I have always lived in the left wing. As Zachery Wahsted (of the novel Inside Out) struggled with his demons of schizophrenia, I struggle with my own “schizophrenia” in this “liberal” elitism. I have two voices battling in my mind as I’m torn between what I believe to be the very best, the “THE” of something, and the fact that I break my own beliefs by being like this. The fact is that if you do not believe in the same manner as I do about something, say music, that you are worthless in regards to this subject. That if you have no original ideas, only watch action films, if you shop almost exclusively at WalMart, pay more attention to what you look like than who you are being, are knowingly a slave to media, wonder why some drivers are such assholes and then flip said drivers off, yes, if you believe God is the only answer out there and would accept no other if it came and threw the deuce in your toilet, than I hate you. In fact, I believe that if one believes that their way is the best way that they should be equally hated.

True elitists are, in fact, rare to come by anymore. Most commonly they are as I am; the “bourgeois” of the pack. In fact, it is in this middle class where the most humane of us reside. We are modest about our ways. We know each other when we meet in passing or even make eye to eye contact while fumbling over certified organic fruit in the supermarket. We would be considered intellectuals, people of good taste, people that take interest in politics as a lighter hobby, people that understand other people by stereotypes that we ourselves have created. We listen to NPR, we’ve driven Volkswagens and Subarus by preference and only own another car by circumstance or a move into the green age that we’re responsible for creating. We listen to jazz and Debussy, but not under compulsion. We have the whole earth in mind, but only our mind of the Whole Earth.

The pain begins by realizing that I am slowly developing more and more into a stereotype myself. That by hating the opposite I am becoming the opposite by way of hatred. . . . That, if I show my annoyance at all, I’ve immediately become the elitist of a god. Can I live like this? Yes. I struggle constantly by covering my thoughts and even my words with something less aggressive. I replace the thought of “hate” in my mind with “intense dislike”. I constantly broaden my mind, as is our custom by nature, to hopefully accept more things… only to be defeated by the repetitive notion of “intense dislike”. Every moment in time I walk on the thinnest of lines to neither fall into the heaven of an elitist and fascist god, nor into the endless basin of a hell filled with dental assistants, caramel macchiatos with whipped cream, NASCAR, iPhones, another Santana album featuring top 40 artists, and the whole entrepreneurial splendor of it all!

It reaches the very fibers of my bones, and I ache to know that you really will not understand this. And if you do, secretly you agree with me. You know that you’re the actual definition of the word “elite”. … which is naturally what you’d say anyway, and that no one can tell you otherwise. That’s why you have liberty of your mind and nature. That’s why you are the most knowledgeable about the things that matter. You likely also feel that the café of your mind is being held up by two contrasting ideals, neither of which you want anything to do with, and the only thing that you, I, we can think of is the maple bar of truth. That “I’m right and you’re wrong”, repectfully. Our ideals are highly accepted by other elite members of society, and yours are accepted by other people that think like you. And though that’s not all that mattes, that’s all that matters. As God said of Jesus, his best handiwork (and I could be paraphrasing), “He is the way and the truth and the light that’s not quite as bright as me, but I sort of love him anyway. … Well, I need him at least.”

I, like Zach, hear two voices. There is an angel and there is a devil on my shoulders, and I’m simply too good for either of them.


PS: That should be the last you hear in RE Elitism.

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