Without really intending to, I’ve been feeling grateful a lot this month. Looks like I might have been inadvertently honoring Thanksgiving. (Theme month!)
Now, I’m not big on the idea of T-Day, what with its ethnic cleansing implications and all. But before all of that mess, there is the myth of cooperation. And I’m going to work with that because I’ll pretty much do anything to deny the approach of the big X-day, even though The Grinch was on last night (!) and I watched a little of it.
In the vein of my gratitude, I’ll admit that Jackass Number Two is funny. My secret boyfriend once again hooked a sista up with a private screening of the flick. (Thanks!) I was skeptical.
It is disturbing to watch because there are so many instances where things could go horribly wrong and someone could die. We’re not in ancient Rome here. We don’t need to see people get killed for our entertainment. We’ll laugh at pretty much anything. We loved ”alrighty then,” organic hair gel in Something About Mary’s hair, and a tranq dart in Will Ferrell’s neck. The Jackasses did nod to the barbarism of their particular brand of entertainment by starting the show with a running of the bulls. Yep, that about sums it up.
But that’s not exactly why it’s so disturbing. The reality is that the abuse in Jackass is the raw illustration of the rules of our social connectedness. Trust me, I’m not stretching my analysis here. This is not a high-brow look at a low-brow pheomenon. In fact, this is very simplistic. Take a look with me.
In the Jackass world, you have to play the game. You will get punched in the face with a surprise boxing glove powered by hydraulics. You will be forced to confront your worst fear. You will get held at gunpoint by Jay Chandrasekhar (who was excellent in Super Troopers, by the way, another “bad” movie that I love). But if you want to be in the gang, that’s what you do.
And that’s how it is in the world, folks. I don’t care how free spirited or devil-may-care you think you are. This applies to everyone. We tolerate things we don’t necessarily like to get along and be a part of a social network. Play along, or you’re out of the gang. Your gang’s rules probably don’t include outright torture, but in the long run, the trade-off is probably better in the Jackass world. At least they like each other. They also get paid well and travel a lot. Would I put a leech on my eyeball to go to India with my pals and get paid for it? Sure.
Think of all of the distasteful things you do to get along in your gang. There’s deference to an idiot boss, phone calls to annoying clients, covered dishes to snarky matrons at events you don’t want to attend, and silence at pointless meetings. And this is all to be a part of a gang of people you probably don’t particularly like. At least the Jackasses make each other laugh.
So, I’m grateful that I have good friends and an excellent job. And I’m grateful to the Jackasses for showing me that the pain in life is a fair trade-off for the pleasure. Or that the pain in life should be a fair trade-off. And if the pleasure is in inverse proportion to the possibility of my untimely death, so be it.
