(that being said, though, it could still possible for me to end up in a spoiled marriage with horrible children. I am still single, after all . . . ladies . . .)
Now, this is not to say that I've completely skipped over all of the deviant behaviours I'm supposed to experience in my twenties, especially since I still have five years left to find new things to be a complete idiot about. For example, I am currently in the process of coming out of the closet to my parents as a Nordic-style Democratic Socialist (or maybe I should say coming out of the DOMBÅS?), a process that almost makes me wish I was gay instead, because that just might be easier to explain.*
*I am required by conscience to inform you that the aforementioned claims have been made from a position of overwhelming Heterosexual Male White Privilege
One of the facets of my generation's cultural perpetuation that I've been fortunate enough to steer clear of is the flagrant use and abuse of psychotropic substances, the subject I wanted to go into in this bit of self-indulgent bloggery today.
For you see, I believe that a person should know their limits. It is one thing to tell yourself that alcohol is bad and you should not drink. It is much more effective, however, to recognize the times and places where you would most likely succumb to your deviance and actively steer clear of those situations. Those of us of the Mormon persuasion may know of this concept as 'Standing in Holy Places'. But I believe it goes deeper than that: knowing where you would be most vulnerable to the vices of the world, at least in my experiences, requires a bit of strategic imagination. In the same way that Utah youth love Zombie Apocalypse fiction and all invariably have their own plans for surviving the onslaught of the undead in a bizarre culmination of popular culture and the Mormon drive for disaster preparedness (barricading a Costco is my favorite choice, if only to capitalize on the post-apocalypse demand for Kirkland Signature™ brand Salted Cashews and 33.5oz jars of Nutella©), I've had to put myself in a state of mind to think about what conditions would have to occur to get me to compromise my standards. For some of these vices, I did not need too much imagination. But for substance abuse, I had to go out there.
Way out there.
Eventually, I did come up with a scenario, barring cases of medical necessity or threat of coercion, that would render me tempted to use drugs recreationally. It is oddly specific, and very unlikely, but I felt that I'd reached a breakthrough by even getting that far, and as such would like share that scenario with you.
Some background: I am a musician, currently working towards a Music Education degree at Utah Valley University, known to the nation for texting-only lanes in our hallways, Noelle Pikus-Place, that basketball game brawl in 2014, those guys from Shark Tank who invented KissStix, and, of course, the poop bandit. As a musician (both a singer and Trombonist, to be exact), I've always had a fascination with Richard Wagner, a German composer in the 1800s who was well known for his rich orchestrations and rampant anti-semitism. You may recognize him as the guy whom everybody says influenced all film music ever (especially Star Wars). You may also know him as Hitler's favorite composer, but to be fair, you don't have to not be a genocidal maniac and art school reject to enjoy good music. You've definitely heard some of his stuff, like the Wedding March from his opera Lohengrin to The Flight of the Valkyries, used famously in every Vietnam movie EVER.
It's Ride of the Valkyries, or rather the larger work that it belongs to, that takes main stage in the scenario for substance abuse I have running through my head. And by 'larger work', I pretty much mean 'largest work' of Wagner's, or most other composers for that matter: Der Ring des Nibelungen, or, The Ring Cycle.
For the Uninitiated: The Ring Cycle, a set of four individual operas written to be performed end-to-end, constitutes 16 HOURS of unabated Norse mythology, complete with Gods, Dragons, Enchanted Swords, Valkyries, Dwarves and glorious amounts of heroic Incest on the part of all of its protagonists. It is, basically, Lord of the Rings if all of the main characters were replaced by the Lannister Family.
It is also a meticulously-composed masterwork featuring a vast patchwork of musical motifs matching every plot cue as it happens, weaving a tapestry of rich artistry whose impact has literally shaped the world, for good and bad, following it's composition. Not only did Wagner write, compose, and orchestrate the entire 16 hour ordeal, but he also designed the theater where these works were to be performed, a venue that still stands in its original location in the Bavarian town of Bayreuth, where a festival of his works is held every summer, usually including a full production of Das Ring.
This festival is famous for being nigh-impossible to get tickets for: In order to attend, you must submit a letter of intent to the festival organizers (the descendants of Richard Wagner himself), just to get an application. Once you have received the application, you may wait anywhere from 2-10 years on a waiting list before getting the opportunity to purchase your passes, if you are even selected. Buying your tickets secondhand is strictly prohibited, and will result in you being denied access, or even being forcibly removed from the theater if you somehow were able to get past the box office in the first place.
And thus, my scenario takes shape: If I somehow got tickets to see all 16 hours of Der Ring des Nibelungen, in the Bayreuth Festspielhaus designed by the composer for the composition of his works, featuring an orchestra that included instruments that he himself designed for the sole purpose of performing that work, then I would be tempted to use some sort of Amphetamine to keep me wired up so high for that entire festival. For me, it would be a matter of necessity: there is no way, no matter how awesome the music or spectacular the staging, that I would be able to endure the entire cycle under my own power. Even in a theater with the seats designed to be just uncomfortable enough to prevent people from falling asleep, I would find a way. I always find a way.
It is frighteningly easy for me to fall asleep in public. Most of the time it is a curse, especially as far as my academic career goes. It has served me well, though, as I was able to fall asleep 10 minutes into Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull on opening weekend, thus sparing me from having to watch the vast majority of Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, a blessing for which I give thanks through prayer every day still. But in this situation, I would be tempted, because I would want to experience this masterwork of human ingenuity and ostentatious meticulousness at the height of my senses. Even thinking about that sensory overload, being hopped up on a ridiculous level of Adderall or Benzedrine, or even maybe Speed (though not the local Utah Valley favorite Methamphetamine, because I have standards) as the entire theater rumbles from the orchestra hidden from view below the stage roars into life, is enough to get me shaking with giddy fanboyish glee, before I stop myself and realize that a limit has been identified.
There is a catharsis that comes from coming to grips with your God-given mortality and penchant for doing stupid shit. Being able to know thyself is a gift and a process that I am immensely grateful for, no matter how excessively far down that senseless rabbit hole I tend go. But it is important, even if that person who you are is a total douchenozzle, to get to know them.
As many people know, your worst enemy and harshest critic is often yourself. As Sun Tzu once said,
"Know your enemy and know yourself, find naught in fear for 100 battles. Know yourself but not your enemy, find level of loss and victory. Know thy enemy but not yourself, wallow in defeat every time."Proverbs 20:5 also says that:
"The purpose in a man's heart is like deep water, but a man of understanding will draw it out."With any luck, hopefully reading this has made you more aware of your awareness, and by extension, more aware of your awareness of awareness, and so on and so forth . . .
Awareness: the first value in an upcoming exploration of humanly virtues that I will be exploring here, on Big Blue Cheese.
