Never Let Them Have Your Goat ⚓︎
The cold that ravaged my tourmates a few weeks ago caught up with me. Maybe it’s not the same bug but I feel like it was dormant in me since then, getting beaten back by my immune system, and jumped out as soon as we had an early morning ferry crossing and therefore a night of very little sleep. How it always gets ya. Every membrane feels red hot and drinking water makes me gag a little, but It Could Be Worse. And war didn’t escalate today.
We hiked to the giant “M” on the foothill in Missoula (Sammy, Liam, and me, with basecamp moral support from Sima). The wind was so strong, if it had blown the other direction it might’ve blown us down the mountain. It made our hair stick up like Seussian characters in our selfies.
I’m glad that we’re in a quiet place for the last three shows of this tour, because it’s easier to reflect and feel present when we’re in Montana than when we’re in a major city. Not to mention it’s beautiful here.
There were people surfing in the river. We watched them drop their boards off the pedestrian bridge and then jump in after them. The river rapids make a sort of perpetual wave machine. I think I’d like that more than ocean surfing, but what I like the most on a brisk not-yet-spring day like this is to be dry and on land.
We had a submarine drive to get here from Victoria, BC. That’s what we call the drives that are so long, it feels like getting in a submarine. I like them; they’re a time bubble.
We watched Louis Theroux: Inside the Manosphere and The Rise of the Red Hot Chili Peppers: Our Brother, Hillel on the drive. A great double-header. One’s about a bunch of men maladapting to their pain by destroying things and selling snake oil. The other is about a bunch of men adapting to their pain by becoming family to each other and making art.
Hillel Slovak seemed like a beautiful person (in body and spirit). And I’m charmed by Flea. He seems full of light, incapable of putting on airs. I relate to his burning desire to make something that feels vital, whether or not we hit the mark. And he seems unafraid to appear a fool, which sounds backhanded, but I mean it like: I think lots of my peers and I could take a page out of that book. Returning to a child state, quieting that third-personal eye that monitors what you do and makes you less real, it’d serve us well.
Some of us spend a lot of energy trying not to embarrass ourselves, but if you pause to think about it, it’s way scarier to be the type of person that no one can trust because the things you say seem designed to not embarrass yourself more than they are genuine expressions. I don’t think I really suffer from that, because earnestness is baked into me from both sides of my family. It’s like Chicago-Jewish Midwestern firmware. But I definitely worry about this, and Flea’s this little whirling dervish of unselfconscious enthusiasm. I’m sure he’s imperfect but it’s pleasant to see.
Cheers to Anthony Kiedis for getting healthy.
And again, Hillel, beautiful. He should be alive.
I recommend the Louis film too because of what he doesn’t do. He doesn’t add fire to the right/left, misogynist/feminist, racist/antiracist flame war. He puts a blanket on it, with simple questions. “Don’t you think that’s a bit much?” “Is that really true?” And makes silent eye contact with his subjects, which, to a person pretending to be confident, is like Kryptonite. I went in to the movie assuming that Manosphere influencers are less strong-willed and less comfortable with themselves than they claim to be, and I was still surprised by how quickly, easily, and totally each of them cave in response to something as mundane and non-aggressive as an aging British documentarian looking at them with quiet poise.
They can’t scramble Louis’ brain. Even when they’re spouting theories about demonism, spinning webs of misinformation and bigotry with a million threads to pull on, Louis can think of a clear, concise question to scoop it up, like a cobweb on a broomstick. They want to put the burden of proof on you. He puts it on them. “I don’t think the world is run by Satanists.” I get overwhelmed sometimes, trying to decide where even to start with someone whose conclusions, premises, and everything in between are rotten. After watching Louis I feel like I have a little more strength to detach and just say no. Never let them get your goat. If it’s the last thing you do, don’t let them have your goat.
Louis had the power of the edit and the power of curation to pick some guys who are bad at rhetoric. I’m sure there are other bigots out there who are harder to debate and keep an upper hand with. But I think the idea would still be clear: these guys are picking a villainous path to stardom (aka audience connection) and money because they’re very weak and because it works. You wish they’d pick a different lane, like a punk-funk band. Or a navel-gazing blog.
Tags: tour-report


