“Because.”

Anyone batshit enough to provide the official statement “Because I really fucking felt like it” when asked why they did a certain thing wrong, should get a pass at least once.
I don’t think “wanting” to do something counts enough as a valid reason to do things. Of course, like everything, this idea should be duct taped tightly to a healthy dosage of common sense. Lemme ‘splain.

Both lawyers and judges will tell you there is no such thing as a victimless crime. That’s because they’re spoonfed their opinions, you’re not graduating law school if you have any inkling of childhood rebellion left in your head. So they believe because they are told, and will in turn tell your sternly: “There is no such thing as a victimless crime.”
That’s okay, they are entitled to be wrong. As the opposing side, it’s natural for me to disagree, but tell me, who am I hurting by climbing some scaffolding to take photos? If I should fall, several people will be hurt, including me, but then falling would be the crime and I’m not planning on it. Still, going up is already breaking a few laws. Nothing you can’t get away with, but technically it’s a crime.

That's why.So when I got busted with a friend (again, sorry about that), the first thing the popo wanted to know was, why. “To take photos,” I said, which was only partly true. I had my camera with me and was planning to take photos, but it was not the real reason. The reason, was because I wanted to. Because I can. Because no one cares.

Why should there always be a logical reason behind wanting something? If I had brought up a bird complex, wanting to jump and fly away, or some superhero issues, feeling the need to be elevated above the masses, would they buy it? Although I’m totally making this up on the spot, it just might explain my desire to climb that damn crane.

Instead, I told them I went up to take photos, because I am a photographer, and I wanted to sell them. If they had known anything about photography, they would have locked me and my shitty camera in the nearest jail, but they didn’t, so they bought it.
So there. Making money was a valid reason, and we got away with a warning. What bullshit.

Why take the long road home? Why trespass? Why pick up a hobby? Why change careers?

Because we fucking feel like it, damn it. Because it makes us happier. And you know what doesn’t? Making up reasons and accepting them as your motivation, distorting your priorities and pushing you to make stupid decisions in the future, based upon them. Consistency isn’t necessary; free will, by definition, isn’t tied to rules.

Police, lawyers and the masses act by their own laws, not mine. In places they overlap, and in others, they don’t. Sometimes doing things I am not allowed to, I’ll accept that when I get busted, I get in trouble. But that’s just a factor taken into account, and in the end, won’t stop me if I really fucking feel like doing what I truly want.


“What is it with guys and these things?”

I looked at her, holding a knuckle duster-shaped stun gun in my fist. I had just managed to override the safety and it crackled loudly, startling us both and triggering a burst of laughter from me. Not from her, though. Judging from her expression, she despised these things as much as I enjoyed playing with them.

We were standing by a stall run by some Asian, in the heart of Czech Republic. Apparently, there is a lucrative business in weapons there, judging from the rows of stalls with Asians selling ninja stars, switchblades, nunchaku, pepper spray, and all kinds of things to fuck another person into a wheelchair. Note: Absolutely none of that stuff whatsoever is legal here in Belgium.

I pondered her question. What was it that we, most men and some women, find so entertaining in violence? Personally, I have a big interest in martial arts and effective use of weapons. While I had often considered how I would handle that urge without people (including myself) getting injured, I had never wondered why before.

If I may generalize my own vision onto my gender, “we men” have a few complexes that lead up to it, I think. Of course there is the competition, pushing us to be stronger to pick up more chicks. In general, it’s an effective method. Not that I would know.
What else? Surely there’s no need to harm or kill just to prove that you’re stronger? Of course, there are twisted minds out there that just want to see others hurt, but I’m not one of them. So why my fascination with the power to hurt, then?

I think, and this is what I told her, that my drive towards weapons and fighting skill comes from the need to get things my way. If I get angry and set my foot down, I want people to respect that. If they don’t, I get angry. If that fails to vent my frustration and the situation continues to escalate, I will resort to violence (just like ever other sane person, mind) and that’s when I want to be able to set an ultimatum that will be respected- or else.
This would only occur if for some reason, I can’t walk away. In other words, when there is something concerned that I find really important.

She rolled her eyes. “That’s typical,” she said, and I could see that she was seriously put off by it, so I dropped the subject. She didn’t realize that at that moment, she was one of those important things.

Rephrasing, I resort to violence when things that I find very important, aren’t going my way. It sounds childish and macho, I know, but I’d like to point out that I am by no means a physically aggressive person and the things that I find important, generally are.

The last time I considered violence was when a small group of girls, foreign guests of mine, where threatened by guys far bigger and numerous than them. The time before that, a friend of mine was attacked by a mental patient.
When these things happen, or if my girlfriend would be harassed, my friends hurt, or I am attacked, I want to be able to end a situation in the quickest and most effective way possible. If that means negotiation, good. If that means a fistfight, so be it. Not because I want to fight, but because I want the problem solved.

I like the idea that I am able to defend myself and the things I stand for. That makes me like knuckle dusters charged with 400 Volts. What it does not mean, is that I like violence or harming others. It’s just a satisfying thought that if I should ever have to defend what is important to me, or people close to me, I can.

Where your threshold lies, is up to you personally. I make effort to raise that barrier and not do stupid things when there is no need to. But if I may have the arrogance to claim that I’m one of the good guys and if I need to fight for something, the stakes are too high to simply lose. It’s a comforting thought that those odds are in my favor, because they generally aren’t. I am kind-of okay with that, but in my dreams I’m still that Power Ranger, a force to be reckoned with in the battle for what is right.

 

Image

Fight crime, fuck bitches.

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One response

  1. Dieter

    Damn right. On the “because I felt like it” part.

    Following the latter logic, you’d probably be a gun-lover in America though.
    And considering the worrysome amount of nuts/idiots/driftkikkers on this planet, I’m inclined to like gune-restriction laws.

    25 April 2013 at 10:55

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