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Recovering backpacker, Cornwallite at heart, political enthusiast, catalyst, writer, husband, father, community volunteer, unabashedly proud Canadian. Every hyperlink connects to something related directly or thematically to that which is highlighted.
Showing posts with label Max Landis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Max Landis. Show all posts

Saturday, 24 May 2014

Preventing Elliot Rodger


 
 

The haughty tone, the forced laughter, the cheesy-dialogue; if this was the sort of approach Rodger took in his quest for sex and affection, it's no wonder he was a virgin at 22.
 
Let's be clear - Rodger may have a diagnosis of being on the autism spectrum, but there is no correlation between the narcissism and God delusions manifested in that video.
 
Autism is a cognitive condition that relates to expression, understanding of social etiquette, and ability to interact in a pro-social way.  Demanding sex, bad villain laughs and the pulling out a gun and shooting people are activities with no connection to autism.
 
No, I'd be more interested in looking into those narcissistic traits and expressions misogyny over the course of this guy's life. 

Instead of focusing what or who or how to blame, what can be learned from this experience to prevent the next one?
 
Rodger would have interacted in certain ways in person, had his videos and all his stuff on Facebook.  There were plenty of triggers there to suggest a person with a morale compass that pointed in the wrong direction.
 
What process is in place for students to pass information of concern on to authorities?  Does the school maintain ties with local police?
 
How could Elliot Rodger have been flagged as someone in need of intervention before it was too late? 
 
Elliot Rodger wanted to be better than others, so he got himself a gun and opened fire.  The gun, you see, was the tool of his power.  Something in that the NRA doesn't want you thinking about.
 

Wednesday, 26 June 2013

Max Landis On Power and Man of Steel




"Having that much power makes you responsible for other people."
 
Yes.
 
First let's clarify what power is, though.  It isn't the mad grab for dominance over others that both capitalism and socialism breed - "I have resources and ego issues so everyone either does what I say or simply don't matter."
 
No.  Power is like driving car on streets where there are pedestrians and bicycles.  You don't try and remove the less-powerful entities, like Rob Ford would do in an attempt to push the weak to the margins and allow cars to rule the world.  What you do, as a driver, is drive responsibly.  As your vehicle has the capacity to kill you are more responsible than the pedestrian or the biker who doesn't have that kind of street clout. 
 
This isn't to say those with less power have no responsibility, only that those with power have more.  Its why those at the top of the social food chain, be they politicians or sports stars or the super-wealthy get held to a higher standard of accountability than regular people do.  Average folk know that they have less influence than those at the top and will seek to knock down or penalize behavior seen as over-the-top.  Elections, talk radio, tabloid newspapers and thanks to Social Media, social murmuration are the tools we use to keep the powerful in line.
 
Of course, this is why it's a slippery slope when politicians try to pull the HOAG (Hell Of A Guy) card.  Back to Rob Ford, who has tried to portray himself as an average bear in the same way George W, Bush did; Ford is not rooted in the same world as the everyman/woman.  He comes from wealth.  He has access to people and resources that a kid from the wrong side of the tracks simply can't connect to without a bridge.  When people like him portray themselves as average bears, they are attempting to remove themselves from the increased scrutiny society places on those we know to be elites.
 
So what if Ford gets drunk at hockey games, doesn't read his Mayoral accountability material or texts while driving?  Any average Joe does that.  Yeah, but not any average Joe is responsible for running a city.
 
With great power, we've been told, comes great responsibility.  We should demand nothing less from our leaders.
 
In fact, true leaders strive to give us nothing less.

It's not about having power.  It's about how you empower others.

Monday, 17 December 2012

Not One Man of Steel, But a Society of Strength




 
On so many levels, this is brilliant, timely writing.
 
I don't think we would be ready for a Superman in our midst.  We're too fearful of feeling insignificant in the grand scheme of things. 
 
This isn't an issue, though; whether we're waiting for a saviour or not, nobody's going to come down from on high and raise us up. 
 
That's the big secret - we'll only get there on our own, together.
 
Which is why I have to disagree with the writing team on one point - the solution isn't to look at the world as an island.  It's to recognize we're not islands and start bridging the gap.

Monday, 23 July 2012

Waiting For Superman





Max Landis, the brilliant writer of Chronicle, has done a hilarious rant about the enduring popularity of Superman.  Landis contends that Superman is boring because, in essence, he's perfect; powerful, wise, compassionate, constant.  He's unrelatable, says Landis, which is why he's not relevant to an audience that wants to see themselves reflected in their heroes.  This logic rings true; none of our heroes are perfect, no legend is without flaws.  The Greek and Norse gods were essentially Dawson's Creek with superpowers; every mythic character from Gilgamesh to King Arthur to Anakin Skywalker had their fatal flaws.  They've either died heroes, or lived long enough to see themselves become villains


That's why Game of Thrones makes for such compelling reading/viewing. 


Landis also rips to shreds the chintzy way DC killed Superman off for ratings, then just as quickly brought him back.  Superman didn't change, his world didn't change, the audiences felt ripped off.  The stakes going in seemed so huge, yet there were no consequences.  It didn't ring true; our mythic protagonists, be they of good character or bad, must change the world with their passing.  Whether heroes or villains, these icons must die if they are to be reborn as more than just men, if they are to become legends.  Giants do not walk the earth without leaving footprints.


It has been said that there are no giants any more.  The larger-than-life leaders who shaped entire nations with their great and/or terrible visions have been replaced with technocrats, tweaking away at the margins.  An aversion to risk has replaced boldness; messaging has replaced vision.  We actively tear down our icons, whatever the forum; in an almost Socratic way, we subconsciously seek out and exploit the chinks in their armour.  We mistrust superiority as an oppressive force that, because it must by its inherent nature be flawed, will lead us into temptation.


Yet, locked away in the deep recesses of our hearts lies hope that one day the perfect hero will rise, take our sins onto their shoulders or do away with challengers and show us the way to a better world.  It's one of the great contradictions of humanity; we crave assuredness and unwavering discipline in leaders, but know our leaders are only human and therefore fear the inevitability of their - our -  failure.  We know that when we place our faith in all-too-human unwavering confidence, we inevitably end up disappointed.  This is why we tear our icons to shreds; if they seem too good to be true, they probably are.  It behooves us to deconstruct their perfection and discover those fatal flaws before they are able to harm us.  The only leaders who can bring us to the promise land, truly, must be superhuman.

But there are no Supermen in the real world.  We're waiting for someone who's not coming.

Which is why we love come-back stories.  We feel as though flaws are ingrained into our nature; the only way to grow beyond our faults is by first succumbing to them.  As much as we want to destroy our icons, we draw inspiration when they rise from the ashes/shed the skins of their mistakes; in so doing, they provide us with hope that we too have that power.  Whether you look at religions (accepting original limitation and being reborn) or overcoming "personal weaknesses" (admit you're an alcoholic then strive to be sober) or any form of education (tests, coming-of-age ceremonies, graduation ceremonies, etc.) we have a habit of building rituals around the notion of personal transitions.  We need these moments of personal transcendence to be wrapped in contextualized significance if we're to accept them as having real social meaning.

It's no surprise, then, that we expect our heroes to fall down, spend time delegated to the wilderness and be reborn as role models.  It's through the process of failing that they learn to pick themselves back up and transcend normalcy into exceptionality.  If gifts are not earned, they are not respected and therefore, not to be trusted.

There's a lesson in this, one that we already know but most of the time choose to ignore.  Failure is inevitable; not something to be avoided, denied or trickled down to others, but sought out.  When we cut away (which is different than deny) all the doubt that holds us back and actively challenge ourselves, there's a bit of a multi-faceted hero in each of us.

Which is why the best leaders don't impose from without - they nurture from within. 

RELATED - saw this quote, had to post here: "They are like Superman emerging from the phone booth in times of crisis; their abilities to concentrate and solve problems go up."