Taming The Beast Within
* * *
The following script is non-televised and is strictly behind the scenes content.
* * *
There are times when I feel flawless. And times that I feel like I'm without worth. Times of great sorrow and times of infinite mirth. Moments of thrift and moments where the sun never sets upon the streams of my bread stash. Then there's those moments in between. Those moments where you feel okay, but there are problems rearing on your shoulders that make it impossible to be happy. Those moments where you feel like you've come a long way, but just can't seem to come far enough. Those moments where your wallet isn't empty, but you're holding tightly to the few bills in it.
In Frank Capra's hit classic "Meet John Doe", Walter Brennan describes this as the "Helot" mentality. Wherein your happiness becomes predicated on materialism; in essence, the age old "what you own owns you." But I think it goes farther than that.
When you're in limbo, you expect to be happy. You look back on times before and remember the good times and ignore the bad times. You start to believe you were happier back then even if you weren't. You start to think "if only I could get back to where I was." Because even though you don't feel worthless, you're still far more unhappy than if you did. At least from rock bottom, there's nowhere to go but up. In limbo, you have to claw and stretch to reach the heavens and the slightest twitch can send you hurdling down into the depths of Hell.
When you have money in your wallet, but not as much as you're comfortable with, you fantasize about what you could be doing. You're bound by your debts and daily expenses. Now, when you see something nice in the store window, you can't buy it. But you still feel like you can. It's a sort of withered happiness that seems to be there on the surface, but is ultimately self-destructing beneath the Helot mindset that pervades so many of us.
Then there's the fourth dimension of emotions. I mentioned limbo earlier, but that's more like purgatory. Limbo is the state I'm currently in.
It's when you've legitimately fallen into a web of darkness, but still believe yourself to be a struggling Helot. It's when you feel like you have something to be angry about not having enough of... and yet, you have nothing. It's an illusion created by your own mind; a figment of your own imagination.
And the best part? I don't even realize it.
* * *
Sophia Sheffield:
"I hope you're done with that dafty scribbling you're doing because you and I need to talk."
I sat atop the fuzzy wuzzy American flag quilt cover of my queen-sized bed in Indian style. Littered around me were slews of papers and books that my eyes were panning through at rates near mechanic. At my side was the neon orange laptop that I bring along with me in my travels with -- literally -- about 70 tabs open in Mozilla Firefox.
My eyes were bloodshot and strained from lack of sleep, but the golden fleece that was my bountiful mane was still in tip top shape. The rings under my eyes had begun to compare to the artwork found in the movie The Ring.
Ripplemagne:
"This is not just scribbling. I am currently in the process of formulating a scholastic economic theory that will balance existing deficits and system of governance with a paleocapitalist ideals that -- to my knowledge -- have never been implemented in addition to an Austrian structure of implemented and speculated ideas."
I had ended Bobby Hanson this week in the King of the Jungle match. I had two opportunities to compete for the World Championship against the man who gave me the toughest match of my career and came out on top, but never found another opponent to fill my shoes. I, predictably, wished for neither opportunity and threw them both away. Because when Hayter and I meet again, there'll be a trail of bodies behind me and no question that I'm the man who deserves to be there.
And now? I'm back to fighting Xtremity. Can't say I'm that concerned.
Sophia Sheffield:
"That's all well and good, but everyone already knows that capitalism is the root problem of our governing bodies. So, I'm afraid you're a day late and a dollar short, my delightfully naive yankee floop. Now, put that down; you and I have much to discuss."
Sophia, on the other hand? No, she sat her ass around here and pretend to do something useful. All the while, making everything I do more difficult. She alrea-- Wait, what?
Ripplemagne:
"You're kidding me, right? Because Fidel Castro didn't come out in the last few months and concede that Communism has failed, right?"
The way her hair was pulled back into a ponytail just exposed her face even more, making my knuckles clench all the more and wish to shatter her jaw. There was something about her that made me almost hedonistic in my outlook, which was such a rare feat. Even people like Kameron Chase and those whom I've had long standing animosity with never prompt such a voracious bloodlust in me. I can see the face of an enemy and smile. I see the face of my manager? And I wanna rip it off.
Sophia Sheffield:
"Are you mad? I said not a word about communism, you thick-headed yank. Tell me, do all Americans believe that the only alternative to your precious, crumbling capitalist system is communism? How childish."
Ripplemagne:
"Yes, because the limeys are the pinnacle of reason and knowledge. So, enlightened you all are that you believe Libertarianism and socialism are one and the same.
Bitch, you're like the Grinch Who Stole Christmas, except with every closing, your heart doesn't grow two sizes too big. Your head does. And you must have the bowels of Adolf Hitler in Little Nicky's rendition of Hell because your head fits so snuggly beyond you're sphincter that I'm pretty sure you can listen to the flow dynamics of sand in your vagina."
Sophia Sheffield:
"Ah, such riveting maturity from the 'world's super power'. What's the matter? You can't acknowledge the fact that you thought and probably still think that socialism and communism are one and the same?"
Ripplemagne:
"I'm very well aware of what the differences are, but they are minute. If you want to take a look at a socialist program though, we can certainly take a look at one."
Sophia Sheffield:
"Fine, why don't we take a look at health care? Which your corrupt Judicial system recently shot down, leaving millions uninsured."
Ripplemagne:
"You're obviously another progressive drone who buys any marketed statistic she reads in order to bang with the pseudo-intellectual progressive crowd. Take a look closer. Those statistics factor in people who are uninsured for just one week. They neglect to adjust for the fact that the wealthiest of citizens will opt out of insurance because they can afford to pay in one shot. I can spend all night, dismantling the unscientific process by which they go about coming up with these numbers...
But instead, I'm just gonna ask you: How's N.I.C.E working out for you?"
Sophia Sheffield:
"Quite well, actually. Certainly better than the American system which is dwarfed by places like Cuba."
Ripplemagne:
"Been watching Michael Moore's 'Sicko', eh? Too bad his entire documentary has been shown to be a sham and that World Health Organization report that pits America so low on the totem pole of health insurance factors in things like 'social equality', which by its very nature, penalizes a a capitalistic health care system for being capitalistic. These reports have been thoroughly debunked by Glenn Beck, John Stossel, Lee Doren and just about every other media pundit on the planet.
You're fucking stupid. Go do some research instead of watching the BBC and MSNBC."
Sophia Sheffield:
"Ah, so that explains it. You watch that raving lunatic, Glenn Beck, and actually take his thoughts seriously. I thought when you were watching him the other day, it was to make fun of him like everyone else. I see you're an intellectual midget and follow racist madmen though."
Oh. No. She. Didn't.
* * *
The following script is non-televised and is strictly behind the scenes content.
* * *
There are times when I feel flawless. And times that I feel like I'm without worth. Times of great sorrow and times of infinite mirth. Moments of thrift and moments where the sun never sets upon the streams of my bread stash. Then there's those moments in between. Those moments where you feel okay, but there are problems rearing on your shoulders that make it impossible to be happy. Those moments where you feel like you've come a long way, but just can't seem to come far enough. Those moments where your wallet isn't empty, but you're holding tightly to the few bills in it.
In Frank Capra's hit classic "Meet John Doe", Walter Brennan describes this as the "Helot" mentality. Wherein your happiness becomes predicated on materialism; in essence, the age old "what you own owns you." But I think it goes farther than that.
When you're in limbo, you expect to be happy. You look back on times before and remember the good times and ignore the bad times. You start to believe you were happier back then even if you weren't. You start to think "if only I could get back to where I was." Because even though you don't feel worthless, you're still far more unhappy than if you did. At least from rock bottom, there's nowhere to go but up. In limbo, you have to claw and stretch to reach the heavens and the slightest twitch can send you hurdling down into the depths of Hell.
When you have money in your wallet, but not as much as you're comfortable with, you fantasize about what you could be doing. You're bound by your debts and daily expenses. Now, when you see something nice in the store window, you can't buy it. But you still feel like you can. It's a sort of withered happiness that seems to be there on the surface, but is ultimately self-destructing beneath the Helot mindset that pervades so many of us.
Then there's the fourth dimension of emotions. I mentioned limbo earlier, but that's more like purgatory. Limbo is the state I'm currently in.
It's when you've legitimately fallen into a web of darkness, but still believe yourself to be a struggling Helot. It's when you feel like you have something to be angry about not having enough of... and yet, you have nothing. It's an illusion created by your own mind; a figment of your own imagination.
And the best part? I don't even realize it.
* * *
Sophia Sheffield:
"I hope you're done with that dafty scribbling you're doing because you and I need to talk."
I sat atop the fuzzy wuzzy American flag quilt cover of my queen-sized bed in Indian style. Littered around me were slews of papers and books that my eyes were panning through at rates near mechanic. At my side was the neon orange laptop that I bring along with me in my travels with -- literally -- about 70 tabs open in Mozilla Firefox.
My eyes were bloodshot and strained from lack of sleep, but the golden fleece that was my bountiful mane was still in tip top shape. The rings under my eyes had begun to compare to the artwork found in the movie The Ring.
Ripplemagne:
"This is not just scribbling. I am currently in the process of formulating a scholastic economic theory that will balance existing deficits and system of governance with a paleocapitalist ideals that -- to my knowledge -- have never been implemented in addition to an Austrian structure of implemented and speculated ideas."
I had ended Bobby Hanson this week in the King of the Jungle match. I had two opportunities to compete for the World Championship against the man who gave me the toughest match of my career and came out on top, but never found another opponent to fill my shoes. I, predictably, wished for neither opportunity and threw them both away. Because when Hayter and I meet again, there'll be a trail of bodies behind me and no question that I'm the man who deserves to be there.
And now? I'm back to fighting Xtremity. Can't say I'm that concerned.
Sophia Sheffield:
"That's all well and good, but everyone already knows that capitalism is the root problem of our governing bodies. So, I'm afraid you're a day late and a dollar short, my delightfully naive yankee floop. Now, put that down; you and I have much to discuss."
Sophia, on the other hand? No, she sat her ass around here and pretend to do something useful. All the while, making everything I do more difficult. She alrea-- Wait, what?
Ripplemagne:
"You're kidding me, right? Because Fidel Castro didn't come out in the last few months and concede that Communism has failed, right?"
The way her hair was pulled back into a ponytail just exposed her face even more, making my knuckles clench all the more and wish to shatter her jaw. There was something about her that made me almost hedonistic in my outlook, which was such a rare feat. Even people like Kameron Chase and those whom I've had long standing animosity with never prompt such a voracious bloodlust in me. I can see the face of an enemy and smile. I see the face of my manager? And I wanna rip it off.
Sophia Sheffield:
"Are you mad? I said not a word about communism, you thick-headed yank. Tell me, do all Americans believe that the only alternative to your precious, crumbling capitalist system is communism? How childish."
Ripplemagne:
"Yes, because the limeys are the pinnacle of reason and knowledge. So, enlightened you all are that you believe Libertarianism and socialism are one and the same.
Bitch, you're like the Grinch Who Stole Christmas, except with every closing, your heart doesn't grow two sizes too big. Your head does. And you must have the bowels of Adolf Hitler in Little Nicky's rendition of Hell because your head fits so snuggly beyond you're sphincter that I'm pretty sure you can listen to the flow dynamics of sand in your vagina."
Sophia Sheffield:
"Ah, such riveting maturity from the 'world's super power'. What's the matter? You can't acknowledge the fact that you thought and probably still think that socialism and communism are one and the same?"
Ripplemagne:
"I'm very well aware of what the differences are, but they are minute. If you want to take a look at a socialist program though, we can certainly take a look at one."
Sophia Sheffield:
"Fine, why don't we take a look at health care? Which your corrupt Judicial system recently shot down, leaving millions uninsured."
Ripplemagne:
"You're obviously another progressive drone who buys any marketed statistic she reads in order to bang with the pseudo-intellectual progressive crowd. Take a look closer. Those statistics factor in people who are uninsured for just one week. They neglect to adjust for the fact that the wealthiest of citizens will opt out of insurance because they can afford to pay in one shot. I can spend all night, dismantling the unscientific process by which they go about coming up with these numbers...
But instead, I'm just gonna ask you: How's N.I.C.E working out for you?"
Sophia Sheffield:
"Quite well, actually. Certainly better than the American system which is dwarfed by places like Cuba."
Ripplemagne:
"Been watching Michael Moore's 'Sicko', eh? Too bad his entire documentary has been shown to be a sham and that World Health Organization report that pits America so low on the totem pole of health insurance factors in things like 'social equality', which by its very nature, penalizes a a capitalistic health care system for being capitalistic. These reports have been thoroughly debunked by Glenn Beck, John Stossel, Lee Doren and just about every other media pundit on the planet.
You're fucking stupid. Go do some research instead of watching the BBC and MSNBC."
Sophia Sheffield:
"Ah, so that explains it. You watch that raving lunatic, Glenn Beck, and actually take his thoughts seriously. I thought when you were watching him the other day, it was to make fun of him like everyone else. I see you're an intellectual midget and follow racist madmen though."
Oh. No. She. Didn't.
* * *
