Lone Wolf — blog 6 — 12.31.21

The lone wolf dies alone, the pack survives. Atomic Habits is chocked full of good advice. And this is no exception. Evolution is undefeated. The lone wolf dies alone, ostracized and alienated. Just fit in. Don’t rock the boat. As the Asians say — this is not me being racist, this is according to Wesley Yang in the “Souls of Yellow Folks” (an excellent read) — the nail that sticks out gets hammered down.

I’m not …I’m not listening. This book, this book that I am trying to write, is about people that didn’t listen. I’m not sure any of us are any better for it. No one changes the world and people usually pay a price for not following the rules. If the wolf dies alone, then so be it. This is not a pack I want to run with. Evolution can keep its winning streak. I’ll gladly take the L. The box score may say you won, but anyone that watched the game saw something else.

They didn’t see a hard fought loss. This is not March madness. Cinderella did not leave her heart on the court and fall a point short. I am glad to get blown out. Wins and losses are irrelevant to me. I am playing a different game. This is not about winning the game but proving the game is ridiculous. In politics, both sides endlessly square off, trading wins and losses, and nothing ever changes. No matter the amount of wins, no matter the amount of wins in a row, or political championships. The time has come to stop playing the game and start embarrassing the game. I’m doing a reverse Globetrotter and making your event unwatchable. It might as well be smut. If the lone wolf dies, and this is inevitable, then why play by the rules? Why fight Goliath hand to hand? Either die cheating or just maybe, the slingshot works and you kill the blind bastard (see Malcolm Gladwell’s Underdogs).

I once read the story of David and Goliath to a class. You’re not supposed to do Bible stuff in school, but I just don’t care. I trust my terrible instincts (which I shouldn’t because the lesson went terribly). Aside from the efficacy of the lesson, the memorable result was that a parent confronted me in the middle of the day over the lesson. Apparently, a student texted her mother complaining, and the parent left work to come to the school to confront me.

It’s fine. Not the first nor the last. Just let them vent. Let them feel like they are doing something with their meaningless lives. Rope a dope. Take a couple punches, it will endear them to you and you can manipulate them down the road. So I was prepared to say sorry that I talked about Jesus stuff and separation of church and state and whatever, blah blah blah.

Nope. That didn’t happen. The parent was upset that I did not lay it on thick enough. There wasn’t enough hocus pocus. Not enough magic. David’s win needed more spirit of the lord.

What the hell did this student text to her parent? I did not know that I was delivering my theology dissertation. I was just riffing on Gladwell. I thought the Jesus freaks would be happy, but my holy water was too diluted, It was the 42 proof grocery store version. The student wanted grain alcohol, Everclear procured by driving two hours across state lines to the commonwealth of Kentucky. Why are we driving to Kentucky for 180 proof booze? Can’t we just buy two handles of Vodka here? I’m not a chemist, but I don’t think it’s going to matter much in the end. We all know how our night is going to end, so why not spare the four-hour round trip. Especially if this means that I do not have to listen to Dr. Dre’s The Chronic in its entirety four times while riding squirt-gun (middle seat) in your S-10.

Happy New Year. 2022 will be big. Mark my words.