chapter
7
I'm with Envy
“
W
hat the hell does that guy have? I have to have it!!”
“Ooh!! What the fuck is that? I have to have that!!!”
Envy: How much easier does it get, man?
Next to vanity, envy is probably the most basic sin on Mr. Blackwell's list. It is the critter in the crevices, the one just out of reach. It is the itch that scratches back. Come on, hands up, you know who you areâwe are all envious. It is just really fucking easy to be envious of anything and anyone. It makes us angry, covetous, it can even turn us on, for what is lust but being envious and wanting someone's sex all over us. So if greed is the main ingredient in our sinful pie, envy is the secret spice that really pulls it all together. Along with the rest of our Deadly Seven, it has been around for a really long time. One of the Ten Commandments says “thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife.” Apparently Ezekiel's wife was looking more like Rachel Hunter
than Estelle Getty. So envy is nothing new. It is also nothing deadly.
Wanting something betterâwell, hell, that is the American Way, right? Envy puts hollow points in raw pulpy hope and leaves you armed with a life gun you can use to blow big holes in listlessness. And why not? If dreams are to be believed in this country, they are community property, a visceral birthright they hand out in the hospital with red, white, and blue pacifiers. All we need is a little raising so we know what to do with all that shiny freedom! Part of that rearing process is a healthy dose of envy. I do not know about you, but there's so much stuff I want and most of it resembles shit that someone already has. So why should I not want what someone else has? Just because it belongs to them, it does not mean more aren't being made in various sizes. Even if it is one of a kind, there is always some shithouse shack somewhere selling losers like me knockoff replicas that smell like cornmeal and melt in the rain.
Commercials are romantic comedies designed to make the consumer envious of the people and the productâthe prettier the person, the more you really need those pants. Billboards look like subliminal messages, your own personal covetous strobe light if you drive fast like me, and their sole purpose is to dose you with fleeting glimpses of shit you do not have or have not seen. So you find yourself wanting shit you never knew you wanted. You become a Manchurian Candidate at Macy's, ready to walk away with the hand soap
and
the lotion. We are bombarded with things to covet at morning, noon, and midnight madness sales until it becomes commonplace. But that is my point: I do not believe envy is all that bad, and in this country or any other, how can you not feel envious? We are all made to feel inadequate and wanton from invisible promises in dark shadows; back-alley bliss can be yours if the avarice is right. We
are outsmarted and outflanked by thoughts that are not even ours, and these motherfuckers expect us to be virtuous? Holy hog fucker, how do you say “eat my creamy asshole” in Latin?
Envy has its ugly mornings, but it can lead to ridiculous quirks as well. For instance, I have a weird fascination about what people keep in their refrigerators, especially in California. I do not know why. I will be at someone's house and I will find myself in the kitchen. Next thing you know the fridge door is wide open and I am bent over with my face buried deep inside its contents. Get your head out of the gutterâwe already covered lust, you perverts. I have no clue what it is, but I am just curious to see what is in there. What is it about the way people group their produce or stack their lunchmeat or organize their beverages? I touch stuff, pick something up and put it back. I also smell everything. To me, a loaded fridge in the eight-one-eight is like a video game: I will jump right in and play whether I know what the plot is or not.
Then there are the people with lavish homes and expensive cars who like nothing in their iceboxes. These people are so wealthy that they eat out exclusively. So they deck out their rig with a few key items: mustard, half-jar of pickles, empty paper wrapper, stick of butter, and a box of Arm & Hammer baking soda in case both things go bad. What the hell? You almost have to try to be this eclectic. Poor people and college kids have this kind of shit in their fridges, not rich folk. I think it is a subliminal tactic to make people think they are less well off than they really are. By keeping a broke-ass refrigerator, you are hoping people will feel sorry for you. That is all well and good, but you cannot pull it off in Beverly Hills.
I am quite frankly one of the most envious people on the grounds right now. If envy really makes you green, I would be the Incredible Hulk ripping through Manhattan. I am competitive,
brazen, pissed off, and scrambling for all I can get. So in my eyes, envy is not a sin because it is the gust of wind in my sails. I get three times as much done because I want to have everything available. Greed and envy are doing a little hoedown in my shit shack, and I am the auctioneer calling out moves and getting it done. But even I have limits when it comes to checking things off of the Craig's List in my soul. These days, people treat kudos and appreciation like fact and recitation. In a world so two-faced that it talks out of both sides of its mouth, awards and accolades have become a queer sort of compensation, and I for one am here to say it is bullshit.
Grammies, Emmys, Oscars, AMAs, Tonys, ESPYsâyou know, people used to be able to feel good about stuff like this. But in the last few years, corruption has eroded the confidence of even the most ardent believers. People ask me all the time what it feels like to win a Grammy. I tell them I could not care less. Why should I give a shit about the Grammy awards? All you need to know about this farce you can find out by looking at the categories. There are shit tons of awards for pop, hip hop, country, and even Christian contemporary. Most times, some categories allow for genres to overlap. There are even several technical categories, and deservedly so. A lot of times the people in this industry forget who does the grunt work, so good for them. However. . .
There is
one
metal category.
One
.
Metal
.
Category
.
Winning the metal Grammy tends to make you feel like a healthy leper. Sure, you feel great for a second, but you are still fucked at the end of the day. One can make the argument that because there is only one metal award, by winning you are elite and even more special than all the rest. Then why even have as many categories as they do? The whole point is to feel special,
to feel like you have accomplished something no one could in that moment. These days, the latest flash-in-the-pan wannabe, untalented hack stain will walk away with an armful of these glorified doorstops to the tune of praises sung by fake flattery. In an era when the very words we use are accused of being lies, what does that say about an award show aligned against half the competition? Besides, I do not put a lot of stock in awards. I put my stock in the commodity that keeps you where you are and blesses you with opportunities to practice what you preach. I put my stock in the fans because they are putting their faith in me. No other reciprocation could sound or taste as sweet.
Like lust, envy can get on top of you quick. All it takes is a glimpse or a passing fancy and you will be gripped by it. It will spoil your milk and sour your grapes. It will keep you on your side of the bed. You will chew the insides of your mouth at dinner. You will be a walking distraction in your own life. But when you can turn that envy into attainment, what could be a better feeling? I am not writing a prescription for instant gratification. The doctor knows better. What I am saying is that every once in a while a dream should come true. I am saying that envy is an effect and you can fill in the blank on the cause. We all fight for our tiny bit of the Boston Cream every second of every day. Why should we be denied little things when they could get us a long way? I think the time of feeling bad about the things we want should have come to an end a long time ago. We are evolving into fortune cookies, twisted and sweet, but the only message inside is guilt. Why even crack the seal on the plastic, man? What is the point of eating when all you get is force-fed a betting line of heartburn and heartache?
By now you may have the presumption that I am a blowhard troublemaker with a chip on my shoulder and a giant hole in my
soul. That actually does not sound all that bad, really. One of my philosophies has always been, “if you do not say it, it does not get said.” Basically saying, it means if you want something in life, speak up or shut up. I am saying we have enough to worry about in our lives without worrying how people who look nothing like anyone we should give a shit about feel when it comes to our decisions. There are days when the world should stay the fuck out of your business. Wanting something should not be a sin when everyone around is feeling the exact same fucking way. Being human is an instinct, not a source of religious scrutiny.
Nowhere does the concept have more impact than in the case of children. I can put it in this context: When I was a kid, all I wanted one Christmas was a set of Boba Fett Underoos. That was all I wanted. I ended up with an Atari 2600 and double-deck ghetto blaster. The disappointment I felt at the time was so crushing that I refused to speak to anyone for a week. A few months later I was being moved to Florida against my will and I had to leave behind all of my stuff. All of it. My ghetto blaster and my Atari 2600 were pawned for gas money. I ended up homeless for a few weeks in Fort Lauderdale. By then, Boba Fett Underoos were the least of my worries. Eating had become a high priority. So I learned young that envy is silly in comparison with survival. It does not mean I stopped wanting my heart's desires. It means I have a curious yet headstrong way of putting things in perspective. I can see the forest through the fire. We make mountains out of gravel and ado out of apathy all the time. Envy will always be the Iago to our Othello.
Here is another bit of nonsense I came up with when I was younger. I was convinced I would never be a good singer or a great writer because I was not Steven Tyler. True story: Steven Tyler is one of the most gifted and original rock stars on the
planet. Nobody sounds like him, nobody writes like him, and nobody exudes the kind of cool he has radiated consistently since I was a fucking toddler. He may have had his problems and he may go to battle with demons on a daily basis, but to me he was the upper crust of amazing. I have my idols: Sebastian Bach, Henry Rollins, Mike Patton, James Hetfield, and David Lee Roth. But Steven Tyler was the Holy Grail to me. He was the icon I tried to live up to for years.
As I got older I realized that I could never be Steven Tyler nor should I want to be, not because I think any less of him but because I know in my heart that emulation is a sincere form of flattery, but individuality is the only form of immortality. As envious as I was of his career, to want to have an exact replica would be a testimony to his legacy, not mine. It is easier to take your cues from someone else because they have made the mistakes in advance. No risk means no foul, but it also means no glory. You have to cut a new swath to find new land. If you follow the same path everyone else does, you will only end up with everyone else. If you want to stand out, stand up for yourself. So my loud envy became quiet respect for the Toxic Twin with the amazing lips. I still think he is an incredible man, but now I am looking for a way to be an equal not a double. Maybe that still means I am envious of a status high above what I have achieved. Maybe I am pragmatic and I know I have been extremely lucky to have the career I have had so far.
I am not the first to desire some sort of recognition from my elders. We have always envied the ones before us, whether it is a teenager wanting to be treated like an adult or a worker wanting a little respect from the boss. We all want the top spot, no matter where that spot happens to be. It can be as normal as walking through your neighbor's house with an eye for what you
can improve in your own. It can be as sordid as an oedipal complex and a cocked fist. We fight the good fight, but when no one is looking, we will always find ourselves looking around. Envy will make a man cheat on his wife. Envy will make a wife fuck the pool boy. Envy will make us all fuck each other over to get a better washer and dryer. But is it a sin or is it one of those things that come standard like a GPS in a Lexus?
The devout masses have told us time and again that free will was a gift from God. I dread to say it but that makes my point. Free will is the box set and your “sins” are the DVDs. We come loaded with the propensity to do great and terrible things. Free will guarantees we can do them. But then we are expected to believe that someone is watching everything we do and judging every second. Why the fuck do we have free will if we are judged regardless? And why should we give a rat's ass pipe if we are being judged in the first place if we all have free wills? I guess it all comes down to what you believe. If you are an atheist, you just have to deal with how other people view your deeds. If you are a member of the holy flock, not only do you have to put up with the rest of the Gladys Kravitzes of the world, but you also have to worry about the big scary old guy in the sky. Your only hope is to subscribe to the New Testament god. He is a little more lenient than the Old Testament god. New Testament god will shake his head with a quiet knowing smile. Old Testament god will make you eat your children just to prove to him that you believe in his existence.
My own observations have shown me that envy just makes a sadistic little sewing circle that complains about anyone not knitting their ass off. For some reason we cannot keep our noses to ourselves. If we all just took life at face value, it might be a little easier. But most people just refuse to see that some things
are unattainable. I get it: Every guy wants a four wheeler and every woman wants a guy who does not want a four wheeler. If people would just lower their expectations, they could settle, you know, like people do already whether they realize it or not. We get what we get and we like it, even if we do not truly like it. That is one thing about envy that I cannot stand: It makes us hate the things we get because they are not the things we want. Why do we not want the things we get? I am certain there are others who get the same shit. But we do not pay attention to those people. The things we get cannot be all that great because
those
people have them. So envy gives us another reason to look down on those around us, even when we are secretly looking up to them.