“Beef-Only”

brown bull on green glass field under grey and blue cloudy sky
FIGHT ME.

A little while ago, I was reading a thread on Twitter, and a guy in the thread dropped this little nugget of gold. There’s a lot to unpack in that post and I’m not going to go into it too much. Suffice it to say, it got me thinking. I’ll let you guys read it for yourself and do your own unpacking of it.

Here’s a few thoughts that I had about it though:

A beef-only thinker is someone you cannot simply talk to. Anything that is not an expression of pure, unqualified support for whatever they are doing or saying is received as a mark of disrespect, and a provocation to conflict. From there, you can only crash into honor-based conflict mode, or back away and disengage.

I’ve encountered a lot of people on the Internet of Beefs, which is pretty much all of social media these days. You can’t have a conversation with them, you can’t talk to them unless it is in support of whatever their beef is. Think about binary thinking and lack of nuance here. Everything is black or white, everything is us versus them. The beefs that people have range from the large scale, global type of stuff, such as climate change, down to the absolutely ridiculous like, if you don’t have kids, your opinion counts for less to society at large.

I swear sometimes that people have nothing better to do in their lives except try and stir up outrage. Imagine that your life is so great, so absolutely “normal,” that you have to go out onto the internet and pick a fight over nothing. Beefing for the sake of beefing.

To continue operating in public spaces without being drawn into the conflict, you have to build an arsenal of passive-aggressive behaviors like subtweeting, ghosting, blocking, and muting – all while ignoring beef-only thinkers calling you out furiously as dishonorable and cowardly, and trying to bait you into active aggression.

This is one of the parts that drives me nuts. The fact that you have to literally duck your head and monitor what you say, just so that you can avoid a conflict with someone who literally has nothing better to do than stir up conflict.

The article goes on to describe what are known as Mooks and Knights:

A mook is an involuntary anonymous, fungible, angry figure desperate to be seen as significant. I was a mook over a year ago. I’ll admit it. I was raging for the sake of raging. Being a mook is mostly about taking sides in somebody else’s fight, whatever that cause may be. It’s mostly opt-in, which means you get to decide if you want to participate or not. You get to choose if your stress levels go up or not. You get to do this every time you engage.

Knights are the guys who have the cause that the mooks fight for. Here’s the thing though:

The conflict is happening for the sake of conflict itself. The goal isn’t to end the fight, but to keep it going, ideally without end. A war without end. A beef that never ends. Fighting for the sake of fighting. This is outrage culture.

The only reason for the fight is to sustain the fight, there really isn’t a strategy to all of this except to sustain and stretch out the beef. The knights are the instigators for the most part and the mooks are the cannon fodder and combat soldiers.

Why the beefing?

The mark of a knight of the vast round table of the Internet of Beefs is the relentless pursuit of the Holy Grift. A mercantile mission for the end of history…..

[P]ush come to shove, that the grifting motive will rule behavior rather than ideological ends. The grifters keep the culture war going…

It’s all about making money and getting the clicks basically. In many cases I think it’s all about trying to remain relevant. Especially when you are a knight of the Internet of Beefs and you need to make sure that the cash keeps flowing in.

While the mooks fight, the knights make money.

And there it is. Have a knight write a tweet or a post of some beefy outrage, whether it’s “real” or not, whether it truly matters or not, (in my experience, it usually doesn’t matter) add a link to the knight’s latest course, book, or seminar, click send, and there you have it. Agitate the mooks and get them fired up so that the dumpster fires get started and then bystanders as well as other mooks join in the foray and links to products and services get clicked. Money is made.

Get people agitated and they want to buy something to alleviate their agitation. It’s one of the oldest sales tricks in the book. It’s similar to creating a problem for someone and then selling them the solution to the very problem you created for them.

I’m not shitting on guys who want to make money, by all means, make your money. Do your thing. I’m just choosing to opt-out of the Internet of Beefs. I’m choosing to not be a mook anymore.

I don’t need to engage in the ‘rage. I don’t need to buy another course or book or whatever it is that is being sold. I’ll be fine without it.

Opting out is a great thing:

Your stress levels fall dramatically. Life tends to “slow down” somewhat. Colors, sounds, and the taste of things has become more vibrant. Maybe that last one about vibrancy is only something that I have experienced, it may not apply to you, but hey, you can always find out for yourself by trying the opt-out route. At a bare minimum, it won’t hurt you to try it.

Please give that article that I linked to at the beginning a full read. It might be one of those “aha moments” for you like it was for me. At the very least, it allowed me to see what was going on around me on the internet and it gave me a way to literally predict what is or was going to happen next.

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I’ll Be Waiting To Ramble On

man walking on the empty street

Some people come into your life, and they are there but for a moment, and then they are gone. They choose to leave, they want to leave, they have to leave. And you wish that they wouldn’t go, that they didn’t go. But they did. And that’s life. It is what it is and you remember the good times and you wish them well, and you let them go. You move on.

Some people come into your life and they overstay their time. Or you let them overstay. They should have never stayed as long as they did. You should have never let them stay for as long as they did. You knew better and you let them stay for far too long. And they did. It is what it is and you remember the good times and you wish them well, and you walk away or you turn them out, telling them that they must go. You move on.

Morning came and I was on my way, when you reminded me. I had too soon forgotten, it was you that set me free. Yeah, you were here when I came, you’ll be here when I’m gone. So don’t be waiting on love, ’cause I’ll be waiting to ramble on. – Kip Winger

I’m not Mr. Right. I’m Mr. Right Now.

Mr Right Now. Such a phrase with many connotations. One night stands. Same day lay. Someone who “just” wants sex. There’s many more connotations, and it seems that many, if not most of them, are negative. Seriously though, what’s wrong with being Mr. Right Now? At least I’m being honest about it. At the end of the day, that’s all I have to offer you, my honesty and my presence in this moment.

I’m not Mr. Right, I’m Mr. Right Now. I’m here but only for a moment, this moment. I don’t look for anything from you but this moment, right now. Don’t try and keep me here, you can’t. You won’t. I’ll be moving on before you know it. So just enjoy me now in this moment. Enjoy us, right now.

I’ve done the “domesticated thing.” It doesn’t work for me. Perhaps it never did. Perhaps it never will. I don’t want or have expectations of a tomorrow because there is no tomorrow. There is only now. This moment. Let’s just enjoy it shall we? Whether sex is on the agenda or not, I don’t really care. Having you spend time in my presence and me spending time in your presence is what I seek. Even just for this one moment in time.

And that’s all there really is. Moments in time. And if you join me in this one moment in time, with no expectations of another moment in time, maybe there will be another moment in time? And another moment. And another moment.

Stop looking for “forever.” Nothing lasts forever. Nothing. Not even the Great Pyramids will last forever. Not even this planet that we live on and inhabit will last forever. Certainly our lives won’t go on forever, so let’s drop that fantasy shall we? Let’s just enjoy the moment, this moment, with no expectations of any future moments. This is what it means to be Mr. Right Now.

There is no permanency in life. Memories fade over time, memories change. Photos degrade or may become corrupted. People move on, move away, and then at some point they die. Or we die. We forget, they forget, it’s what we do. And that’s okay. This is not hopelessness. This is not futility. This is reality, this is what it is. This is why I laugh when I hear about “legacy.” Will my words, these words, be preserved, untouched, unmarked, unchanged, throughout the entirety of time? I highly doubt it, because nothing lasts forever.

Languages change, meanings change and shit gets lost in the translation. Or sometimes there are words that have no definition or meaning in a language, so we “give it our best shot” trying to step into the mind of the author and thinking, “well, this is probably what he meant.” We’ll never truly know because the author is long gone. Doesn’t mean don’t try, but it does mean don’t get hung up on it.

“Living as Mr. Right Now is so superficial, so shallow.” No it’s not, I assure you. I will love you and cherish you intensely. I will love you for a lifetime in this moment, because that’s all I have to offer you and to give to you. You can know a person deeply in just a moment. You can know all you need to know about them, if you let them show you, in a moment. I know this because I’ve seen it and I’ve done it. It’s possible.

Darling, don’t wait up for me, tonight I won’t be home. You’ve become a stranger,
I just got to be alone. Don’t need nobody on my side, to dull the blade I’m on. So don’t be waiting on love, ’cause I’ll be waiting to ramble on. – Kip Winger

I’m not Mr. Right, because there is no Mr. Right, because there is no permanency, there is no “forever.” There’s only now. I’m Mr. Right Now. We could be so good together, yeah we could. I know we could. For now.

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Jeremy

jeremy-spoke-in-class-today-pearl-jam-1-600x450
“Jeremy spoke at werr herr herr herrk today.”

“Jeremy” is a guy I work with. He hired on approximately six months ago or so. He’s in his mid-to-late 30’s or maybe even his early 40’s. I’m not sure exactly as I don’t remember, but I do know that he told me his age at one point. He’s got receding hair, wears glasses, and when he’s not in the company uniform, he dresses pretty much like the next guy. He’s got quite the beer gut on him, and for the most part, he’s pretty forgettable. Basically he’s a textbook definition of an average frustrated chump.

“Jeremy” and I had a talk a while ago while on route. This was shortly after he had hired on. Plot synopsis: He moved here from wherever it was that he had lived previously. While he was living where ever it was that he lived, he had been seeing a gal that’s around his age, maybe even a couple years older than him. She’s got two kids from a prior relationship, a teenage daughter and a son that’s around 10 or so.

Their relationship was volatile and they were on again/off again. During one of their off again stages, she decided to move on and smoke another man’s pole. It just so happened to be “Jeremy’s” brother’s pole. Jeremy found this out from both his brother and from her when they tried to be “on again.”

Jeremy ended up moving to Utah and left the woman behind. He got himself a small apartment and got himself a job. Now if the story ended here, it wouldn’t be such a tragic comedy. But it doesn’t end there. Not by a long shot.

Almost a year later, ex-woman and Jeremy are still talking. Ex-woman decides to move out to Utah. Jeremy decides to “take her back.” Problem is, his one bedroom apartment isn’t big enough. Not enough for her, him, and her two kids. So Jeremy and woman get a joint lease and get a larger, more expensive place.

They move in together and everything is happily-ever-after. Right? No. It’s not.

Jeremy is sleeping on the couch. All of his stuff, other than his clothes, is still in boxes. The teenage daughter has the second bedroom while Mom/woman has the master bedroom. I can’t remember where the boy is sleeping, but it’s somewhere in this apartment. And Jeremy is paying for the privilege of sleeping on the couch. Half the rent to be exact. Half or more of the utilities too. If memory serves me correctly, he’s buying most of the groceries too. That’s how he ended up working at my job. More pay to finance someone else’s lifestyle. I don’t even want to guess how often these two have sex.

Jeremy has talked about leaving. He’s waiting for the lease to be up. Which happened as of January 1st of this year. He’s still there as of this writing. All of this backstory, everything that I’m writing about up until now, was told to me several months ago. Why didn’t he just leave her months ago? “Because I don’t want to be that guy. I don’t want to leave her hanging.” Fuck it, I would have taken the credit hit, after finding another place of my own and gotten my shit out of there. Everything is still in boxes, so it would be easy as hell to move. Block her number and/or change my phone number to boot. That’s if I would have gotten myself into this particular mess to begin with.

Jeremy is a “promise keeper.” Rollo has talked about it in at least one article of his own. I’m not going to go into that particular definition except to say that Jeremy is white knighting a woman who is fucking him over because he allows it. He also has the whole “relational equity” thing going on as well.

A couple of days ago, Jeremy came to work in a bad mood. He gave me some story that wasn’t the story, it was an analogy. I just remember something along the lines of, “Why can’t people just accept me for who I am? Why do I have to change?” So Jeremy has some covert contracts going on too. He wants credit for his burden of performance. He wants her to love him the way he loves her. He has certain expectations of her that he hasn’t told her, and since she isn’t doing any of it, he’s pissed and bitter about it. Mostly bitter.

This whole thing is a nightmare in the works. It’s a nightmare of his own creation.

Do I feel sorry for him? Not really. He could leave at any time. He chooses to remain for some misguided idealism in his head that he created for himself.

What’s the point of this post besides showing how fucked up a man’s life can get?

Know what you want.

Jeremy has no clue what he wants. He knows what he doesn’t want, but not what he wants. I know this because I asked him directly. I got the “deer in the headlights” look.

Guys, you can cruise on autopilot for your whole life. God knows, I did it for a long time. You can just “go with the flow” and see where it takes you. Don’t be surprised when it takes you to places you didn’t want to go. Have an idea of where you want to be and where you want to end up, otherwise you’re going to end up at someone else’s destination like Jeremy did. At some point he’s going to have to take charge of his life, own up to his shit, and decide exactly what he wants to do. Until then he’ll keep paying for the privilege of minimal to no sex and sleeping on the couch. He’s not her boyfriend. He’s her employee.

Does Jeremy get to burn? You better believe it.

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