A famous author, I think it was Twain or Hemingway, once said that a cynic is nothing more than an idealist with a broken heart. I am amazed at how true that statement is. As I've grown and watched others around me grow and develop, I've noticed the unmistakable trend of losing our innocence: our idealism and our belief in the benevolence of humanity.
I went to an all-boys Catholic school for 12 years before I came to Dartmouth. Besides severely handicapping my ability to successfully interact with women and teaching me the usual Catholic rhetoric about transubstantiation and original sin, it made me into an idealist. I'm pro-life, anti-death penalty, I don't think condoms should be handed out in public schools, I think the easiest way to get rid of AIDS is right in front of our eyes, and I believe in God. I have faith that everything will work out in the end, and I believe in doing what makes you happy, not what gets you a Mazzerati and a house in the Hamptons.
However, age is making me into a cynic. It's like if you drink every day for thirty years straight, eventually your liver will just stop working. As I see more and more ridiculous and malevolent stuff, my heart just stops caring. Instead of giving people the benefit of the doubt, I start assuming they're trying to get something from me or they have ulterior motives. I hear the reputations which people (who I don't even know) have been given, and I believe them without bothering to find out for myself. I hear stereotypes, and I buy into them. Hell, I even perpetuate them. I believe them because it's too damn hard to keep an open mind and continually be disappointed. Eventually my heart just stops caring. I'm forgetting what it's like to play football with the kids from the neighborhood on a long summer afternoon, to believe in the honesty of politicians, to have faith that my prayers will be answered, or to watch G.I.Joe on TV and know that C.O.B.R.A. will always lose because they're the bad guys. In real life, the neighborhood kids are all grown up and in or out of college, my mayor (Marion Barry) is a crackhead, prayers seem to fall on deaf ears, and the bad guys win all the time.
Instead of having some larger view of what it would be like to go out into the world and make a difference, I find myself wondering about how much I can make my first year out and how much of it I can spend on stuff I don't really need. Instead of identifying with Democrats when they ask for more taxes to take care of people on welfare, Medicare, and Medicaid, I look to Republicans because they're going to lower MY taxes when I'm trying to pay off that house in the Hamptons.
You know why? Why I feel myself losing the ability to care? It's because my experiences tell me it's true. That's the worst part. There really is a lot of malevolence out there and simply wishing it away with good intentions just doesn't seem to work. It seems a lot easier to join it than to hold on to my individuality. It terrifies me to think that way, and I hate myself for not caring, but it persists anyway. I hate it because I'm afraid that people who are truly genuine and real may see me being a cynic and part of it rubs off on them.
A '97 friend of mine is one of the biggest cynics I have ever met. At times it seems like he's unable to believe in anything other than looking out for number one. Last week I talked to him about what he was going to do when he finally left Dartmouth this past Sunday. He said he was going home to his parents and would start looking for a job. He's an econ/engines double major, so I said to him, "That shouldn't be too hard, and you'll make a ton of dough, too." To my surprise, he smiled at that, looked me straight in the eye and said, "That doesn't matter for sh--, Higgins." I really hope so, Skipper. It made me really happy to hear him say that because at times it seems like that's the only thing anyone thinks about at this school (of 4000 white kids who all dress the same) where corporate recruiting is beyond the norm and things like teaching and the Peace Corps seem hardly even a notable exception.
I guess the point is that I need to get all the old neighborhood kids together and have a huge Turkey Bowl at Thanksgiving, vote against Barry in the next election, and generally deal with that whole negativity thing. A lot of stuff is actually right with the world, but sometimes it's hard to see the forest for the trees. If I'm rubbing off on you and you don't like it, just punch me in the face and say, "Stop being such a damn cynic, you little b----!" If you're one of the ones rubbing your cynicism off on me, watch out, because I may have to throw some ninja pimp slaps of my own. And of course, the undeniable fact is that C.O.B.R.A. could never, EVER, beat Snake Eyes. He is simply the man.
