Screw the Wild, I’m Staying Home
by: Polish Rob
“Look, you’re my best friend, so don’t take this the wrong way. In twenty years, if you’re still living here, coming over to my house to watch the Patriots games, still working construction, I’ll fucking kill you. That’s not a threat; now, that’s a fact. I’ll fucking kill you.” -“Chuckie” Good Will Hunting (1997)
I grew up in a house where money wasn’t necessarily spent with careless abandon. The biggest fights, meaning the most detrimental to young children, between my parents was always about money. And, as the old stupid book says “he does not leave the guilty unpunished; he punishes the children and their children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation.” (Exodus 34:6-7)…the “sins of the father”.
Needless to say, I’m not necessarily good with money. For example, at 34 years of age, I’ve already had three mortgages on three different properties, and I still have no fucking clue as to what the fuck I’m doing. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not in poverty. I’m not on welfare and I don’t need food stamps. There are times, however, that I don’t know how I will afford my drinking habit for a week, so I’ll lower my standards and buy a handle of Inver House over Cutty Sark to save a few bucks. You can go fuck yourself if you think that’s sad. I might even write a scathing diatribe on fans of craft beer to negate the fact that I really just can’t afford it. On second thought, that one came from the heart.
My good friend and ally, The Nineties Guy, recently recommended a movie to me, Into the Wild. Now I can see the how, what, when, and why he thought I’d enjoy this movie, and don’t get me wrong, it’s a fucking fantastic picture. There are so many elements to this film that evoke the natural human instinct of an abandonment of a malevolent civilization that would turn the most conservative of youth to “turn on, tune in and drop out” without the need of psychedelic drugs.
Something bothered me though. Really bothered me. Really fucking bothered me.
SPOILER FUCKING ALERT!
Nothing upon nothing offends me more than the story of a privileged, fuckfaced rich kid, who at the age of 23 knows nothing of the real world despite his education, literally burning his money to live off the land.
Let’s get the story straight. There are millions of kids out there that come from broken homes; broken so badly because of poverty, drug and alcohol abuse, physical and emotional cruelty that they are forced out onto the streets. These kids never even had a shot at college, let alone Harvard fucking Law School as the protagonist did.
The most offensive scene is when Alex or Chris or whatever the fuck you want to call him, is on skid row in LA. Is the viewer really expected to find relief when he rejects the assistance of a homeless shelter? Are we really expected to think this is justified, that the thousands of other homeless, impoverished peoples would literally burn money to be in that position? The simple answer is no. Any one of them would give up their life for their children to be given that chance. That shot. That dream. What a slap in the face. I wish this piece of shit took a train to modern Detroit instead of Alaska to see what it’s really fucking like to live off nothing.
Needless to say, I have no respect for the privileged class, regardless of their intent to “live free”. I only say that because there is no freedom in it, no matter how much they try. It’s nothing more than a selfish fantasy for them. Despite the misgivings of my parents, I’m happy that they were able to scrounge up enough to send me to college. I’m happy to sleep in a warm bed, with the company of a loved one and pets every night. I’m ecstatic I can type this while looking out at the falling November snow.