I witnessed a stunning display of acting douchebaggery that made Narcissus seem like Christ on the cross.  While getting high praise on a scene, it was indeed very good, mind you, an actor was disturbed that there was noise going on behind him and that he wasn’t getting total silence for his grand review.  The noise, it should be noted, was other actors setting up for the next scene.  That’s how these things go.  We share time and space.

But the noise was interfering with the glorious cascade of compliments, so this man turned around and yelled, “Silenzio!”  (For the record, I don’t think he’s Italian.)

Now, the calling for silence, in a foreign language, would be enough to qualify for the Arrogance Hall of Fame, but wait, there’s more.  Some time later, said actor was setting up for a second scene of the day, which raises some questions in itself, but that’s for another time.  Well, it turns out that moving furniture makes noise, whaddaya know, and was now interfering with others getting their notes.  When this was pointed out to Signor Silenzio, he responded plaintively, “Well, we have to set up the stage.”

Alas, when somebody is so incapable of thinking of anyone but themselves, it is a steep climb out of the rabbit hole.  It can be done, but it requires a desire.  That would be desiderio.  And because I’m feeling generous, I’m going to toss in cortesia and considerazione for free.

Please.  Be nice.  Think of others.  Even if you’re an actor.  Your life will improve immensely.

For the Mineralava Musings, this is Edoardo Ballerini.

More than one friend of mine has been going through some pretty awful inner wranglings of late, and I’ve tried to set my own travails aside and just listen.  When I do speak, I offer some of the teachings I’ve learned these last six months, teachings that have to do with trying to be a good person in a world full of selfish douchebags who take every opportunity to make you feel like an insect.  It happens all the time.  From the urban equivalent of pissing on your head from a higher branch by meeting you and crushing your hand as no eye contact is offered, to the slightly more refined act of reducing your accomplishments to an unimportant footnote to the latest chapter of their dry-cleaning incident, the world is, as a dear friend put it, not a you-niverse, but a me-niverse.

From all this come the knee-jerk reactions of frustration, anger, feelings of inadequacy, and healthy dollops of sarcasm are used to numb them out.  Something I’ve succumbed to in this little essay, as attentive readers may be noting.  I debated scratching the top of this post and just going for the second-half, but there is no drama without conflict, and also it struck me as disingenuous.  Suffering is part of life, and to paper it over is not the point.  To acknowledge it, is.  So, yes, world, you give me ample reasons to suffer.  But, here’s the fork in the road, and I have a choice to make.  (Those who want more sarcasm may want to stop here and head for an overpriced cocktail.  Make sure to discuss how little money you just spent getting some underprivileged soul to do your menial labor.  Bonus points if you don’t even know their nationality.)

Okay, that’s it for now.  So, here we go.

I thank you.  I am grateful for your slings and arrows.  You give me opportunities that I did not understand a short while ago, and I am a better man for it.  You have given me the raw materials from which I will make my blanket to keep me warm, erect the walls to give me shelter from the storm, and whatever other metaphor doesn’t quite fit perfectly but that I’m going to use anyway.  You wake me up in the night and challenge my sense of self, you land punches to my face that I have to tend to, and you remind me that happiness can never come from anything external, but rather from whatever feelings I cultivate in my own heart.  I will undoubtedly still be sarcastic from time to time, like say, oh… now, but at least I might be conscious of it and understand the ramifications.  They are many.  I will undoubtedly pay for this writing in some form, but that, too, is part of the journey.

I thank you.  I wish it were not so, of course.  I wish that we could all live in a utopian dream-state of rainbows, warm muffins and foot-rubs, but as it is not so, I thank you.  Even spurring me to write this has done more for me than you can know, bitter commentary and all.  So please, don’t stop for my sake.

Though I might suggest you stop for your sake.  For our sake.  I’ll do my best as well.

For the Mineralava Musings, this is Edoardo Ballerini.