Kingdom of Introversion

Very recently, I found myself on one of Southern California’s mega highways in the company of a highly extroverted friend of mine.

3 PM had just hit and we were desperately struggling to get free of the LA area before it was too late.

‘We’ll be fine once we get past the 605′ he said.  On his cell phone roadmap, we could see red zones of congestion spreading by the minute.

Almost by the minute, traffic was moving slower and slower.  Without a guardian spirit on our side, we would soon be gridlocked.

In these type of Calfornian conditions, one is looking down four enormous completely packed lanes.  One can see thousands upon thousands of cars stretching into the distance.  There’s plenty of time to look around and take stock of everyone else’s hummers, luxury SUVs, audis, and lexuses.  All of these high end vehicles as far as the eye can see.  Thousands upon thousands stretching into the distance.  The remarkable and respectable becomes banal and vulgar.  The bar of competition rises that much higher.  Late on a cloudy afternoon, people’s headlights start to come on.  Countless pairs of glowing insectoid eyes fill the view of every driver.

Suddenly the whole place and its sheer excess made sense to me.  I  turned to my friend and goaded him.  “I think I get SoCal now.” I told him.  “You all are in your little car among millions and have to tell yourselves, ‘I’m not just another drone like all those people I see around me.’   You have to be able to tell yourselves that you are better.  It drives all of you to your famous levels of ambition.”

My friend has run for political office, has the social graces to charm an entire room full of people and become the life of the party.  He is highly intelligent and can engage people at a cocktail party on nearly any subject.  He can speak fluent Spanish and is as comfortable deer hunting in the mountains as he is sipping port and taking a fine cigar at his favorite watering hole.  In short, he is a very electable person.

He had to concede that indeed he had to believe that he was not just another drone.  That he was a unique SoCal overachiever, not just the regular kind.  He chuckled at these existential dilemmas because it’s kind of a game between us.  Yet he will continue his life’s task toward recognition regardless.

Earlier, that day in L.A., I had noticed the exact same phenomenon we experienced on that highway.  It was just like Ancient Rome with its seven hills or even an ancient Mesopotomian city with ziggurats towering over the common hovels.  In every day life, there was no escaping the life-defining fact of social competition.  The richest and poorest of a nation are there in the same place at the same time.  On the heights are the palaces of the winners.  In the flatland gaps between hills are places where even the city’s 13,000 cops don’t dare to go.  Never before had I seen such stark contrast.

I saw one winner’s balcony in particular jutting out over a crowded shambles below.  “They must come out and give Benediction to the Masses,”  I joked.  My friend had cracked up as I raised my arms in imitation of the Pope.  Surprise, surprise, more than one person has called me a cynic and condemned the dark nature of my humor.

The whole place was spectacular in its glorious decadence and inconceivable squalor.  Each one was all the more striking for the other.  I saw hordes of people without a penny within sight of the famous Hollywood sign.

L.A. is an excess even for my friend.  He much prefers the more moderate and austere character of San Diego.  Once we had gotten past the 605 we were free to zoom wherever we pleased through the Californian countryside.

It was dark outside and quiet as we drove along.  “It’s completely insane.” I said, still stunned by the day’s experience.

“Yes,” he agreed.  “Insane.”

It was more evident to me than ever that it is pure folly to allow society to define oneself.  It is foolishness and futility to judge oneself by the masses.  Without self-definition first one becomes lost in a cruel and elemental jungle of arbitrary social distinctions.

So long as I self-define, I could live in peace even sleeping on a bus bench at the foot of a hill slathered with the homes of famous actors.  The famous actors on high are no doubt busily competing amongst one another.  No matter their luxurious trappings, the character of their existence could not be said to be essentially different from that in the slums below.  No matter who you are, there are always bigger fish, and if no bigger fish, life’s purpose has come to an end.