Writing about licenses is a bit of a strange thing for me to do.
I don’t really have a license to do anything. Never really acquired one.
And when it comes to ID cards….I’ve already written about that before.
But right now I can’t think of a better way to articulate what’s inside of me.
With everything I’ve lost and gained, I want to be able to see the pieces of the puzzle that is us, sprawled upon the ground, and for you to play the video backwards to put it all together.
Are you by any chance familiar with the “loicense” meme?
If not, please do look it up.
Yes, it calls out how egregious it is to enforce the needing of some proof of payment or competence or past completed transaction….for a person to be somewhere, or acquire something.
And as such the silly fad we’ve made provides us catharsis.
But there’s something soft and pale, isn’t there? Inside the heart of Mr. Loicense, interrogating you or punishing you for only kind of relevant shit?
Something as uncuttable as gas. A proud, calm feeling in the chest.
A sense that what he’s doing isn’t wrong despite this.
You do not cut through that. You don’t make him bad about himself.
The adrenaline rises in him. The security as well.
The meme mends your pain, but the strong will remains.
If you want to know how to actually articulate that kind of unbreakable state of confidence in dignity despite apparent belligerence
you’re going to need nothing less than a concept entirely unprecedented in its aptitude.
You’ll need the Hunterian Opiate.
You can call me an egomanic, like the people who tell you you can’t find real happiness or love or productivity without engaging in their particular ways of doing things. I know it sounds that way. But with complete confidence I’m saying, without this concept, all that you consider “asshole behavior” to be, will be done without shame.
A man somewhere is being blamed for storing trash in his car without a license. And it sets your mind on fire. And you try to find the words to express frustration and all you get is slang like “asshole”.
And the world does change. Our hearts do bend. Bad situations find a way to mend. But all you need to do is look at internet threads and you’ll see…..satisfying words to criticize humanity do not yet exist. Satire remains a milquetoast solution.
People remain feeling upright and honorable despite their egregiousness.
Okay, let’s get right to the point. I’ll try and hand you the Rubik’s Cube.
1. We all agree that requiring some kind of documented proof to be able to do anything is a bit wild and unnecessarily constrictive on individuals and groups.
HOWEVER! We all agree that relying on a document as evidence of someone’s actions, is quite the nifty and convenient thing.
2. We all agree that lacking mercy in the enforcement of needing a license is somewhat savage and unwarranted.
HOWEVER! We all agree that letting everybody off scot-free leads to social chaos.
3. We all take some degree of pride in the pieces of evidence that show we have done and may do things others find valuable.
HOWEVER! There are plenty of things we do without the proper amount of experience or or the right kind of permission.
4. There are plenty of people we admire who do things exactly the way we think they shouldn’t do them.
HOWEVER! There are those who overstep the boundaries of what we consider badass exceptions of social conventions.
5. The actions required to get a license to partake in anything tend to cause anguish in their difficulty.
HOWEVER! We all take joy in hard-fought achievements and doing things we wished we didn’t have to do.
Please, let the pieces in your head shift.
Basically, what I’m saying is, that the reason you can’t criticize Mr. Loicense is because inside of his actions, is, to him at least,
the essence of the ability to get around the annoying bullshit other people do.
The person egregiously enforcing rules they know are egregious
feels as though they’ve accomplished whatever that mysterious stuff is that makes you not an asshole.
That’s literally all we’ve been trying to figure out through popular culture and mass media, isn’t it?
Trying to answer why people feel like the anti-asshole.
Deep down you know that comforting heat is the source of that which you call vile.
It explains the futile but effective tenderness in all the most advanced attempts at taming
THE HUNTER THAT IS US.
To enforce a license is just as excessive as it is reasonable, and as such even this stereotypical agent of the law feels like an adaptive someone on the hunt, much more than a bully or a toady of a higher order.
To go around making sure physical materials become the proof of a proper way to sell a good or service, he feels like a mastery of the connected and unconnected nature of everything.
Mr. Loicense is as bewilderingly sincere as anyone you really respect.
And of course, taking up what feels like encouraging justice as well as providing mere satisfaction of his employer,
makes that unspoken kind of security
that makes the working human feel very much not shitty.
Somewhere between sincere justice and desperation for competence is where the heart of an employee lies.
Can you relate to his savory heart?
The weirdly endearing warmth in your head that makes you fond of the Mr. Loicense stereotype…..makes you feel as though, someday, this criticism will bring us together.
You know the people that piss you off burn with a sense of purpose that is actually kind of a civil inferno.
You’re constantly trying to put it together.
So you look for a name to call it.
I’m calling in the opiate of the hunter.
Although I’ve called it some other things as well.
(you can dive deep into this blog if you like, my friend)
How else did we ever get a passion for doing things, a passion unmatched by other species?
How did we ever do all this?
Congratulating and condemning excess and restraint.
Overvaluing and undervaluing at once.
Affixing actions and items to people so very loosely.
Helping things be civilized with just the right level of weirdness.
Feeling like the proper version of an out of place creep.
Ready to get around what feels like someone else’s trashiness.
That hunter’s justified egomania!
That very silent honor.
The wordless joy.
I want to hug it and cool it off.
Because you don’t need a license to change the fucking world.