Please Kill Me,
If you don’t know, the first few years of “trying and failing” creatively are grueling with little evident reward. Years one (two, three, four, etc.…) can be simultaneously depleting and formative. The writer we become is determined by how resilient we can be in the face of this adversity. We can grow from failures, stagnate in success, and never really know if we’re on the right track.
Simply, if you work in any creative capacity—you aren’t normal. We are social outliers.
Some friends and family may even respond to news of your career with a strange blend of concern, confusion, condescension, and jealously. I call those people “cow–chippers.”
Call me pessimistic but I’m convinced that most normal people who smile at “artsy”-aspirations are also thinking: “What the f-ck is wrong with you?” and “Get real, like the rest of us have to!”
That’s not to say the average person has got it easy. Alot of us pursue creative careers due in-part to our fear/disdain/disgust (all three?) of “work-life” culture. The monotony. The shallowness. The thinly veiled emotion. The faux-status hierarchy. John or Gina from “corporate” want to chat with you about [Insert Bullshit Here] —dear world, please fucking kill me!!!
Others find it far more engaging to dive deep, in search of something (…or someone) within us that’s more valuable (to us?) than what’s described above—we gamble on ourselves. To the average person that can be pretty terrifying and disdainful, in itself. The two sides understand each other on that front… both silently judging.
Then, there are the “cow-chippers.”
As we drift further away from center, we develop our own way. Our own understanding. Our own lives. And our own ideas of success. A life beyond the comprehension of most. This presence attracts, disturbs, discomforts, and infuriates the cow-chippers. They believe it isn’t “fair.”
“But WTF are “cow-chippers”?”
Alright…Alright, I’ll tell you. (#YouLittleRascal)
Cow-chippers are those who’ve never deviated from superficial frameworks and consider themselves “superior” because of it. They wake up one day, unfulfilled, dissatisfied with themselves, and resentful of the hands that’ve molded them. Their beliefs don’t allow them to identify the true problem (themselves). Therefore, their anger is externalized and aimed at everything and everyone in their path—particularly social outliers.
I’ll preface the rest by stating that I’m in no way, shape, or form the love-child of Pam Grier and Lionel Richie (…I legally have to say that).
Anyway, my medical diagnosis (…as an unaccredited practitioner) is that a cow-chipper’s not-so quiet contempt comes from a core realization about themselves. While others developed, they were killing dreams. While others broke a mold, they were priming themselves for conformity. While we may seek truth in purpose and meaning, a cow-chipper evades reality.
Cow-chippers don’t swim for land. They bob in open water—aimlessly, pointlessly, and ineffectually. They prefer to judge your dog-paddle skills than to risk failure swimming for themselves. They’re especially peeved when someone else makes it to shore.
The cow-chippers are self-limiting and self-hating creatures. While some will attempt to ‘grip life by the horns’, cow-chippers kneel proudly, at the ass-end of the steer, sloppily deep-throating the beef—trying to convince you that they’ve “won” (…in this rodeo metaphor, the “average person” is somewhere in the audience—being mediocre). Thus is the curse of a cow-chipper’s mind.
Allow me to expand my thesis…
When cow-chippers predict or experience poor outcomes for themselves, their response is to deem the scenario as bullshit (their third favorite bull-fluid). In turn, they devalue anyone and anything associated with sed “shit” for being “shit.” This delusion allows them to ignore bad-feelings (insecurities, shame, guilt, etc…) associated with their fear of failure, embarrassment, and/or ridicule.
The cow-chipper does this while sociopathically deeming themselves morally (or otherwise) superior to any persons involved with aforementioned “crap.” Avoidance, deflection, and emotional suppression become a tranquilizer that keeps them sour, stagnant, and self-aggrandizing.
Extended stagnancy is hard to ignore, so the lone cow-chipper may come to feel like a loser/failure over time. They join stables of bad thought, in search of easy approval, validation, and kisses on their forehead. They’re rewarded for suppressing their truth.
But reality persists…they aren’t happy.
So, they go radical…
After a while, the cow-chipper decides that ideological assimilation is the only proper way to be (THEY ARE RIGHT AND EVERYONE ELSE IS WRONG!!!). Doing so designates average people and outliers as improper, indecent, intolerable and undeserving. The cow-chipper loves this rule-of-law because it allows the illusion of control and importance, without much skill, risk, sacrifice, or effort.
The cow-chipper’s nasty demeanor is born of misinterpreted fear, rage, self-delusion, envy, (…and endless gallons of that stomach-heavy cattle-cream). They become resentful of anyone who’s grown beyond the rodeo–without doing it the “cow-chipper”-way.
Although, within a cow-chipper’s bull-inseminated skull, they know their own truth. The cow-chipper never wants to admit this, so they hide behind flawed logic, project their shortcomings onto the world, and assign others as the enemy (…this all occurs while the cow-chipper drinks chunks from a murky pond of bovine-jizz–wondering why their tummy hurts).
For them, there is ONLY the COW-CHIPPER WAY!
A cow-chipper relies on approval, validation, fear, and limitation. They achieve all four through submission to distasteful (and often extreme) authority figures and controversial ideologies (bad things make them feel good). Full-on crazy can follow the evolution of their prejudice(s) and bias(es).
Risk scares the shit out of cow-chippers. Therefore, they submit. This psychological submission gives way to the will of bad farmers. That keeps a cow-chipper on the wrong end of the rodeo. For them, the world should be no bigger than the confines of their own cage.
Yet the World goes on without them (…they hate that too).
Time tends to force cow-chippers to reexamine themselves or double-down on their insanity. Most choose the latter. They love and hate the analysis at the same time—equally thrilled and terrified at the proposition of change. It’s their only way out.
Despite living on the cusp of freedom and self-discovery, most cow-chippers will simply return to their heated trough of fresh bull-semen and wait for something to take them out of their misery. (#NoCountryForOldBullSeMen).
Don’t pity them too much…
They’d butcher you if they could get away with it.
Until Next Time,