We used to have a very visible, and very personal form of violence called the cigarette, which has slowly become outlawed as such obvious displays of self-destructive behavior can no longer be tolerated. Social critics say the cigarette is a slow form of suicide. They never stop to think that maybe that’s the point.
Indeed, studies indicate that warning labels on cigarette packs indicating that smoking leads to death actually increases preference for that brand. According to the report, the warning help to increase “confidence about the product.” As Kurt Vonnegut used to say, he aught to sue Pall Mall for failing to kill him.
Teens smoke because they want to be part of an ‘in’ crowd, or really any crowd, but often missed is the intentional self-destructiveness of this act. Sometimes smoking isn’t enough. Maybe hard drugs or guns can do the trick. If children had access to nuclear weapons, how many nuclear holocausts would we have everyday?
The only solution we offer to all this angst is repression and suppression. (Actions are repressed, which leads to emotions being suppressed.) Actually addressing the root causes of such loneliness is impossible because it would require someone actually care. Instead, we treat the symptoms. “Smoking. How terrible! We must get rid of it.”
And so that small act of rebellion is forcibly removed from society through a series of repressive laws designed to turn that modest rebellion indoors. We can’t have it. It isn’t civilized.
Of course, suppressed feelings don’t go away just because they aren’t acted upon. They simply manifest themselves in other ways. Thank goodness for the cruise missile and drone warfare then, able to annihilate from afar and with no risk of second hand exposure. It’s a less personal weapon, the target is different, and of course it’s much faster in turning human bodies into one simmering carcinogen, but the ultimate effect is the same: a hollowing out of life.
Western civilization is undergoing what Albert Camus called “metaphysical rebellion,” a rejection not just of corporate power or government corruption, but of the reality of everyday existence. It is a rejection of the mundane stasis of working life. Our national grief has reached such insanity that we prefer to take others with us. Our repressed sorrow always finds an outlet.
The intensity of violence is always proportional to the level of desperation. To quote Marshal McLuhan, “All forms of violence are quests for identity… The less identity, the more violence.” As Chris Hedges is fond of saying, war is a force that gives us meaning.
Whether it’s cigarettes or global nuclear war, violence provides certainty; You have a level of control over the outcome of your life and the lives of others. That control gives life meaning.
Violence is a scream. The louder the scream, the greater our rejection of life as it is lived.
No one shouts, “The sun is going to set today and tomorrow it will rise again!” That is something everyone already knows. No, we only yell when something is in doubt. We prefer to scream, “The south will rise again,” “You can achieve anything if you work hard enough,” and of course, “This is the greatest nation on earth” to anyone who will listen. We do not yell for their benefit, but for ours.
Our screams are so loud we have become deaf to them. No one can hear them now, except perhaps our victims in the final seconds of their lives.
If you enjoyed this content, please donate. Even $1 or $5 makes a difference. You can donate via Paypal (see tip jar to the right) or with