The TLP Network

Sharing the Hate, Spreading the Pain: On Hypocrisy

by on Aug.23, 2007, under Articles, Sharing the Hate

Why purple? Not sure, but of the two writing tablet choices present at Walgreens, the crux of the situation had a bright red option or a bright purple option? I went with the bright purple option because I really didn’t want a huge beacon of a book saying, “Hey, I’m writing something down, which might be important,” and then for someone to consider that statement an excuse to come harass me. Alas, I digress, because with a Necronomicom pendant donned, all black garb, sunglasses, no sweat, and 100+ degree heat index, isolation is a guarantee. I can safely start this passage On Hypocrisy:

I will start by saying that this passage is not a typical Sharing the Hate, Spreading the Pain article. Those familiar with my older writings will see a greater semblance to those works. I use this passage as both a teaser to the Key West episode on the TLP coming next Tuesday, and an excuse to theorize and form conclusions exercising my Master’s Degree in Psychology. To that end, this passage is much longer than most, less edited than most, and completely devoid of bulleted lists to extrapolate ideas upon. However, this passage truly is Sharing the Hate.

The Present: Most readers are beyond confused at what they have just read, and may or may not continue reading. If you want the Scenes Behind Scenes into the psyche of Leo Cain, I implore you to continue. If you want to live in a fantasy world of anchovies dancing on the Chicago style white pizza before Shiitake and Portobello mushrooms consume them, then stop post hence. The former is always more interested than the ladder tough. Though, I do have my money on a garlic white sauce pizza with fish and shrooms.

Sunday: 1:35 P.M.: I shall say I hate most humans and humanity in general. This weekend confirms all that is retched about society. Perhaps I should remove myself from society for awhile. Content is pre-generated a month out, and no one but David will notice this disappearance. Since I will resurface around the time that both this article and this episode air. No one will really notice that I stopped working on Insomnia Radio for three weeks (permanently).

Consider this passage is my Brutal Backhand to Key West, for I strongly believe everyone pulling into town for the weekend deserves one. If they could offer Backhands instead of tickets to the Conch Tour, I would have been a much happier camper. The maids should deliver one as they clean the puke out of the garbage cans and hunt for the towels crammed into the shower drain. The sun delivers one as people think they are immune to sunscreen. The streets deliver one as walking is really the only way to get around town.

I would love to slap people on the back for a job well done this weekend, but I would probably be thrown in jail. Nietzsche writes that Alcohol and Christianity are the great abuses of the 19th century. I think I would add technology to the list and update it for the 21st century having added debt to the list for the 20th century. Credit is along the lines of buy now, and spend the next 20 years paying back interest on it. People are so debt enriched that retirement is the last thing on their minds for 40 years from now. Right now, they are trying to keep their Adjusted Rate Mortgages and high credit limits from foreclosing on their lifestyle. Technology adds to the credit crunch by making it even easier to bury your entire life with a couple of clicks of the mouse. If you are not living pay check to pay check, then you are not watching enough TV telling you to buy everything you can afford three times over. America is the land of legalized Usury. Dante would be proud since the Seventh circle of his hell has sodomites, blasphemers, and usurers all wandering in groups through a desert of flaming sand with fiery flakes raining from the sky.

Take a look at your most recent credit card statement, you now only have 20 days to pay back your bill. They made the process faster on you, because they automate the process. Who collects the interest on the other 10 days in the month? The bank does. If this change has not happened yet, then give it another two or three months. They will change your due date, and not tell you.

You always hear people complaining about gas prices close to $3.00 a gallon, but these same people will settle for 24% interest on their credit card statements by paying the minimum. These same people probably know nothing about Ethanol based fuel cells from plant biomass filters either. For a small investment you can use photo-voltaic (solar) cells to power your home, and bags of lawn clippings for fuel in their cars. Yet, they look down upon me when I do not know what is going on in reality television.

15 Gallons of gas in a tank, is about as powerful as three sticks of Tri-Nitro-Toluene (TNT). Last time I checked $45.00 for three sticks of dynamite is an awesome price considering M80’s which are supposedly a quarter sick of dynamite go for about $4.50 a piece ($54.00 if you do the math). This data is relevant if you were price shopping a bomb. I would also add that since the mid 90’s M80’s are no longer quarter sticks of dynamite. Sorry to destroy your fun family myths on the 4th of July. Am I price shopping a bomb? Nope, I have everything I need under your kitchen sink.

1:45 P.M.: I stand in line waiting to check my luggage in, or actually I started the line to check my luggage in. Needing a break from walking up and down Duval and Caroline, I decided to check my backpack into the Ferry 15 minutes early. Looks like I will have to check my luggage in 15 minutes late, since the Ferry is an hour delayed. The Ferry is delayed do to a rescue at sea.

Another boat stranded for two days in the Gulf of Mexico contacted the Coast Guard for help. The shuttle Ferry responded and rescued the starving and dehydrated people from sea. Let us compare the people in line to drop off their bags with the people leaving the Ferry for their Day Trip to Key West.
The people in line are understanding. Most of them are drenched in sweat, and are enjoying the air conditioning. Key West is generally devoid of air conditioning, and the shops use air conditioning as a selling point to get you inside. To think that sixty years ago air conditioning only existed in movie theaters. You would never tell looking around the United States today.

The back of the luggage line is not very understanding and complains about their inconvenience. They probably figure another half hour delay to their quick stop off to drop a bag off and have it x-rayed by the port authority. This delay cuts into their shopping time. I could only wonder what the people on the Ferry are thinking right now. The look on their faces as they disembark says it all. I can easily see that their level of disappointment is much greater than those in line to check in luggage. How dare the Ferry crew ruin their day in paradise by saving someone’s life. I wonder what the six people who almost died at sea are thinking. They have to spend 4 hours in Key West before going back to Fort Myers and home. Somehow I do not think they are complaining too much. I apologize if saving someone’s life means you missed your lunch reservation. Would you like a gift certificate for a free conch fritter? Damn, I will take one so I can feed the sea turtles by the Kraals.

Sunday: 3:55 P.M.: Behind me, there are two people in their mid-twenties enthralled in the passions of each other and alcohol sitting on a ledge over shadowed by shrubs and small trees. Less than ten feet away on the same stoop hiding in the shade and sleeping is a homeless person. Neither the sleeping bum nor the drunks notice me. Relevance? Probably metaphoric for something to say the least. That something, would be the weekend as a whole.

Being a relatively small island, by day three, people places, and bar stamps/wrist bands start to become very familiar. The anonymity that the masses so enjoyed has started to vanish. The mistakes of Friday, become the avoidances of Saturday, and the no where to run and hide of Sunday. By Sunday, most people hang their head in shame, and remember that at one point they were compassionate and caring human beings to some extent.

If you have worked in the service industry before you know exactly where I am coming from. If you have worked in the service industry before in a tourist town like me, you probably just gagged on your own bile, since Key West is the worst town for the harshness of the guests. I fully understand the frustration of those involved in local trade. Each weekend refreshes itself with an influx of people failing to accept any semblance of responsibility for their actions and act about as ill mannered as a 13 year old in an internet gaming chat room. The victims are those that slave to provide services to these people, and to what end?

* Foreigners who do not know that they are supposed to tip.
* College kids who do not have any money left to tip.
* Young professionals who have their first break in years and are trying not to have a mental breakdown.
* Adults acting like kids but bossing around everyone in their path.
* Elderly who are so miserable with life that they want everyone to know it. Just go home.

On Friday, everything you did was new and exciting. You knew no one except those you came with, and everyone in your group is goading you onwards to do more and more things that your normal rationale would never let you do. Why do you do it then? Simple, no one will remember you for doing those actions.

You have been told it is a fun act to let loose, but no one told you what that action meant. Time for you to discover just how much of an Asshole you can become in less than 24 hours. Do not look to your friends to hold you back, since they are probably trying to outperform you. Hence, your recipe for destruction is complete.

Lying, cheating, stealing, and deceiving become proper actions for your personality for the weekend. Do not let anything dissuade you from that aim, or you will be looked down upon by your peers. These same peers are trying to outdo your performance, and a contest is born. A friendly game of wingman will transform into a Pearl Harbor. Cocaine and Zanex become your sources of Caffeine, and replace beers with shots of mixed drinks for your alcohol. These tools are thrown into the mix as a social relaxer. Time to turn off the mind and silence those voices of conscience. If you really feel bad, I’m sure you can score some weed on the street. Then you can sit back and laugh at yourself for hours on end.

On Saturday, you find new locations, and again everything you do is somewhat new and somewhat exciting. On Saturday you kick up your actions a notch, to make up for the fact you are trying to forget what you did on Friday. If you are lucky, you took a break to recharge your batteries, and if you are unlucky you are still plugging ahead from Friday straight into Sunday.

Do not worry, it is time for your group to meet brand new people and repeat the process. If you run into anyone from Friday night, just lie to them, and they will believe you since everyone was intoxicated at the time. Saturday is your last chance where you go for broke and go all out. By 3:00 A.M. on Saturday I was quite ready to throw my fist through a wall as I drank my Propel from the Walgreens or CVS that took over the old Movie Theater.

4:35 P.M.: I’m back in the terminal for the Ferry ride home. Looking around, I see very familiar faces and unfamiliar behavior. Last night, these people were happy and drunk, but right now they are hot and tired. Shame, if they only knew how to stay cool by walking in the shade, and placing a cool rag on their wrists they might look more lively. People have again become polite and cordial to each other, minding their manners and their business as they usually do. Perhaps the Shakespearean statements of the City and the Country are true. Those are the old time Comedy classics where nobles leave the city free of the shackles of order, fall in love and live life. One out of three is not too bad.

Here there is no Pan, or Deus Ex Machina device to help guide people. Instead, they just roam and ramble around as zombies for the better part of a weekend. Instead of mismatched couples falling in love, promiscuous lust turns very quickly into regret. At least after the Ferry docks, and people head off they will never have to see each other again, or at least they hope. Where are you from is not a pick up line, but a disclaimer. As long as the two cities do not match up, you are free to go about your business as you please.

However, being trapped on a boat for 3.5 hours with someone you might have done something with the night before as you sit next to your significant other is never comforting. What if they come over and talk to you?

Besides couples traveling in groups of 10+ people to these hot spot locations, you also have bachelor and bachelorette parties. The premise of these parties is to have fun at the guest of honor’s expense. The traveling group may or may not have significant others, but those facts are irrelevant for the weekend. The premise of the party is what happens there, stays there, and there is no atonement for their actions. It is all in good fun, right?

Hence, responsibility becomes a moot point. You enter the situation knowing your friends will back you up, and everyone will end up doing something that will get them in a lot of trouble. That’s how friendships are strengthened.

Couples traveling in groups of 10+ people will have a ‘ladies,’ or ‘guys’ night on either Friday or Saturday. They will agree to hang out in different parts of town and not interact with each other. They think by setting up these rules they will be free to have fun by themselves. Other times people will head back to the rooms at various times, and couples will split up that way. Once the significant other is gone, temptation is abound. Hence, going back to someone’s room is never an option, but heading down to the pier, or into the alley is a safe bet. There are such sites to see when you look off the beaten path in Key West.

6:55 P.M.: I think the person next to me is quite bored. There is only so long you can play the same 45 second demo on your cellphone, before you reach for a bottle of sleeping pills. Is she trying to read over my shoulder? I hope so, because even I cannot read my own handwriting some times. I have nothing to fear. Perhaps I should engage her in conversation? Perhaps I should just ignore her and go back and forth writing sentences with not particular order in six different articles. I have plenty of time to figure out which paragraph goes where later.

“This movie is pretty bad,” she says. I guess she is bent on not only bringing me into her boredom, but the in-flight movie, which is probably even worse than talking with her. Shit, I made eye contact. I am going to ask if she went to one of the five museums on the island or into one of the art galleries on the island. Her group ended up paying $15 bucks a head at one museum and $10 bucks a head at another museum based on the gimmicks people did out front to lure people in. In both cases the group was disappointed by the museums. I’m not surprised.

Why these places get away with charging $10 to $15 a head to make people pay for items that people donated or salvaged free of charge is beyond hypocrisy, it is capitalism. On the other hand, you can walk into the many art galleries for free because the places are selling copies of the work. This act is capitalism as well. If you want to check out art, take a look at Wyland or Godard’s galleries on the island. There you can take in beauty, and the salesperson will realize very quickly you cannot afford the works and leave you be. I highly recommend Godard’s gallery because of his joyful use of alcohol told from the ingredient’s standpoint. That is the only way I can describe it. Wyland is a brilliant artist using shadows and the depth of slicing a cross-section of land and sea to tell a story.

There are other galleries dedicated to music history, and license plates. These galleries are more enjoyable than museums, since if you do have a question there are about ten people present who can answer them for you. At the real museums, you are paying to look at shit, poorly described, before walking into a gift shop to buy more shit, which is loosely based on the shit you just looked at. Eventually I would like to open a museum and charge people to look at the independent music items I collect over the years. If a band ‘makes it,’ then their label will pay me a lot of money to remove the old works from the library to forget. That’s what I can call a safe retirement nest egg.

9:05: Time to drive home to Tampa, and wait patiently for David to edit this episode together.


NOTE: All this rambling aside, the trip was a lot of fun, and I would do it again with another group of about 12 people. At least now I know where to go, and who to talk with.

2 comments for this entry:
  1. David

    You know its funny, that I make mention of the 3 week break in an episode we record next Monday for release in September. I think we are creating some new theorem of the “Time Dilations of Podcasting the TLP”

    Considering that electrons flow at about the speed of light, and when we do a Gizmo chat we have a 1.5 second delay, is that some sort of Red shift as the information comes to each of us at different relative times?

  2. LeoCain

    Looking back now, this article proved to be more than true. Was it a self-fulfilling prophecy? Was it foreshadowing? The only thing I regret is not punching my fist through the wall that night.

    Hey Bands out there: It is interview-collecting season again; hit me up if you are gigging in Tampa in the next 3 weeks and you aren’t a Brutal Backhand band.


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