It's All the Rage pt. 3 - Welcome to the Corps.

Something happened in Andrea's class this past Wednesday.  We were working on a simple diagnostic of our breathing and how we use the breath to communicate.  She was touching my solar plexus and looking me straight in the eye as she explained to me that I either didn't give enough breath to carry my intention to my intended target, or that I was straining to send the message; that there was no ease to my speaking.  In that moment, certain circumstances of my life, which I have recently been dealing with all came to a fine point.  I had a sort of epiphanic experience where many things suddenly became clear to me.  

I realized that there were some rather old wounds that I had thought long healed that had perhaps not mended properly; I had felt my problems had been allayed, but like a broken bone that doesn't stitch properly, I had come face-to-face with the realization that I was, intact, perhaps still not well.  As she continued on to work on my classmates, I watch, and wept with the ideas that were now swirling in my head.  I tried to set it all down to be digested here, but ended up with far too much to publish in one go. 

After the loss of my best friend, after the denial was over with; after the walls, pre-existing, had been fortified, I had armed them with some deadly scorpions.

Batman...  Superman.

This is typically the end of the superhero conversation when it comes to DC's stable of icons.  I remember back in undergrad, I would joke around with my classmates and future roommates in Hollywood, Joe Gillette and Peter Weidman about it.  Joe was a Batman guy; Pete preferred Supes.

Me?

I was always a Green Lantern guy.

I still think that there's something about a guy that can overcome anything through sheer force of will.  I was, initially, incredibly excited and, eventually, head-shakingly disappointed in this last Summer's big-screen treatment.  What I'm getting at, is if you're now judging my value as a human being based on Ryan Reynolds in a neon green mo-cap suit... well, I guess that's you're right, but go read the comic and tell me it's not pretty legit.

So you've got this guy who's powered by his own drive to get shit done.  Then back in 2007, Geoff Johns and Ethan Van Sciver went nuts and started creating lanterns of all sorts of colors...

I'm coming to a point here, I promise.

... begining with the introduction of the Red Lantern Corps. which is powered by rage, and not just any kind of rage, but blind, I-can't-see-straight rage.

A part of this whole make-believe lore is that once you're a member, you're sort of a member for life; your heart stops pumping blood instead pumps corrosive acid rage that is often vomited out of the mouth.  Pretty intense.  The rage keeps these guys going.

I discovered in myself that, after the denial of all that I had felt that I had lost was over, that I had become a very angry person; short-tempered; very quick to anger.  It was all a defense mechanism.  I was caustic in my dealings with people.  I was in a place where I felt like nobody cared about anything outside of themselves; everyone was merely working for their own selfish advantage and that there was no need to play nice with people.  I felt like I had spent so much time giving myself to people and things that didn't work out that it was time to work on myself, and fuck anybody that got in the way of that.

My words were my corrosive acid vomit.  Anybody that I felt came close to stepping on my feelings got an earful of belligerent word-hate from me.  It didn't inspire too many people to want to hang out with me very much.  I didn't give a shit because I felt they weren't worth the time.

It can happen to the best of us...

What was especially confusing, I'm sure, for people was that it all came with a suddenness that probably made me look quite mad; crazed.  It all stemmed from this overwhelming sense that I was superbly unimportant to anyone.  That I was a non-entity, which was the cause of my initial slide into my depression in college.  I was in a trench that I couldn't dig my way out of.  The only answer seemed to be to shout in despair, hoping that someone would see me.  I was an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

By the by, super-angry outbursts, it turns out, don't really get you anywhere.  In fact, I discovered, when you lose your temper, usually it ends up doing nothing but reinforcing your argumentative opponents point that they are trying to make.

I got a handle on myself after time, but would still occasionally find myself from time to time being enraged over the injustice of how I felt like I was treated by people (or how others were treated by people).   I had a hard time keeping my mouth shut.  I grew increasingly distrusting of people and slid into a sort of emotional apathy.  I felt that feelings weren't important, my own or other people's.  Facts were facts, work was work, and emotions were there to muddle things up.  Life, in retrospect, was pretty joyless.  I eventually, for the most part, came out of that as well.  I got really productive, put myself back in to my artistic pursuits, applied for a month long master-class, met some wonderful new people, and started the process of using the work to get over everything.

I joke around from time to time, if I'm having a rough day: the classic codified status update on Facebook: Red Lantern (to which people who know... Jeff Martin... will respond "RAGERAGERAGERAGERAGE")

I was still in a space where I was pretty withdrawn from people, but the work became the only thing that was important.  I started finding my satisfaction in being trying to be really good at what I could do (acting; writing; teaching; tending bar; helping other people).  Work became my drive.  It kept me going.

Despite my the work that I was engaged in, even after the anger had abated, I felt as if, other than my actions, I had nothing else that I could contribute...

By the way, and this is just for the record, I've consulted my inner-child and he's still pretty staunch Kyle Rayner fan.  Jordan destroyed the universe, and that makes him a chump, retcon or no.

And regarding the Batman vs. Superman argument, it should be pretty obvious where my loyalties lie, especially when this kind of ridiculous shit happens.  #overpowered

"Whoever has provoked man to rage against him has gained a party in his favor, too."

- Friedrich Nietzsche 

Do Not Go Gentle

-R