Elon Muskerooni got his dick booed off at a Dave Chapelle comedy thing. He expected adoration, and he got heckled. This shit made my day, because we live in an Orwellian society where we can only derive happiness from our enemies' fuck-ups.
What gets me is how Musk expected to get a standing ovation for simply occupying space in this dumb club, but no, he got virtual tomatoes lobbed at him. (Please tell me someone brought the real shit.) Videos and write-ups describe Musk as confused and maybe crestfallen.
Musk lacks empathy, emotional intelligence, and other bonding mechanisms that drive humans to work together. News at 11. But Musk's confusion over being rejected by other humans made me think of something he said when he was working on his infuriatingly stupid hyperloop conveyer belt coffin system. To paraphrase, he complained public transit is filthy, inefficient, and--this is noteworthy--packed with maniacs. Hence why the hyperloop is (supposedly) superior: It's clean, quiet, and private. No maniacs. No people at all.
If you take public transit regularly in a big city, yes, you've seen (and smelled) your share of gorge-raising incidents. You've seen homeless people who have loud, lively conversations with God, but are hardly out to skin you alive. You've stood shoulder-to-shoulder and shared air with people who talk to loud on cellphones, people who don't believe in headphones for some reason, people who chew gum loudly enough to make your misophonic ass want to cross the aisle and fight them.
But for every terrible human flaw, there's some charming trait that makes you realize we're all part of the same huge quivering mass of clueless flesh. Yeah, people have problems. People are annoying to be around. So are you. People can be fun and funny, even on a bus trip home after a miserable day. So can you. You have to be amongst humans to love them, even if the thought makes you grit your teeth.
Being with people is hard. And the richer you are, the more you can afford to go about your daily tasks in cars and trucks. And when you're born into super-dooper-looper wealth like Mush (πππ π·), you never have to acclimate yourself to other humans. You never have to wait in line to pay for your ticket, never have to give up your seat to someone who needs it more even though you're dead on your feet. You're never forced to realize, "Everyone on this bus is an asshole...but I'm sure they have reason enough to think the same of me. Ergo, we should try to get along in spite of our flaws."
And then you strut on stage, fail at human interaction 101, and get confused at these new emotions you should've felt and learned to deal with decades ago. So you go to your playroom, build a block pyramid out of people's jobs and lives, and kick it apart. Cool reality!
Oh, uh, there's a bit of writing advice for you, I guess: Observe people. Don't be a creepazoid, you're all assumedly adults, you know what I'm getting at. Everybody has a story to tell, but you don't necessarily have to talk to them to hear it. (Exhale, introverts.) People limp, they bite their fingernails, they doze off as the subway or bus rocks them.
I narrate in my head constantly, and when I'm bored I might describe the person sitting across from me. "The girl sighed from the edge of her seat, folded her hands, and bent her head forward. Wisps of black hair spilled over the shoulders of her denim jacket like runnels of oil. Her shoes squealed as she ground them into the wet bus floor."
OK, that's not Shakespeare, but that's fine! It's exercise! And, like all exercise, it's not about your gym setup or apps or programs. It's just about moving. Don't let your thoughts stagnate!
PROTIP: Narrating in your head is also a nice way to clear house when invasive thoughts or anxiety unfurls the magnetic tape in your brain.
