Labels, Poseurs, and Oppressors
People are often uncomfortable with just being themselves. They hide behind labels, subcultures, and factions to define self rather than simply being. There are also those people who don’t fit a label but still try to present themselves that way.
This past week, I had a few people who believed themselves to be certain things when clearly they aren’t what they claim to be. For one of these persons, I decided to ruffle their feathers to see how they would react to controversy by letting them know they weren’t what they presented themselves to be. Instead of providing proof to the contrary, this person decided to pick on me, call me names, and tell me off. Some people don’t know how to handle conflict but I was pointing out what was clear to everyone. There’s a big pink elephant in the room and it’s you.
I often wish I wasn’t human. I ask my dad if I can be another species, and his comment is, “You’re not another species but you can pretend if it makes you happy.” Basically, I can call myself whatever I want – but it doesn’t make it true. The same goes with other people who are so set on defining themselves with mistaken labels. They are like me, wishing to be another species, I can pretend if I like, but it doesn’t make it true.
I usually let people pretend to be what they want to be when they are clearly not that. They feel threatened by people who are the real thing because they are simply wannabes. They form networks of wannabes and live a fake existence. Most people like to believe they are awesome, smart, attractive, and all sorts of things when they clearly aren’t. But they stick around with other losers; never working on improving themselves, and always staying a sad mess. They resort to picking on others to make themselves feel big. Clearly, they are broken inside and not ready to deal with it so they resort to pettiness.
I would have been a victim of some malicious trolls; immature kids, on the internet if I cared and let it upset me. For example, they are so set on trying to prove “how punk they are” by being wicked to others in the community. I am trying to sell my punk vest on etsy because it’s time for it to have a new home. I don’t know anyone worthy of being given such a gift so I figured I’d sell it. It has about 100 hours of labor into it, so it’s worth double than what I am asking for it. For some unknown reason, maybe because they liked the vest and couldn’t afford it, or they are just a mess in their own head, they tried to ridicule me. It didn’t work because I don’t care. I am only writing about this experience to show how they are what they claim not to be. Cruel, immature, and hateful. Everything that punk stands against, these people represent.
Punk isn’t about your studded vest, your colored mohawk, or your crust pants. That’s a uniform anyways. It’s about what’s inside. Peace, equality, and freedom from oppression. Clearly, these people are the oppressors. So, no matter what tattoos they have, what songs they listen, and patches they sew on they will always be a poseur. They are followers, imprisoned to their pack because no one else wants to be their friends because they are losers by the nature they are what they hate. They will never admit it to themselves because to admit a truth would have their whole world come undone. The saddest thing is, even if they disagree with me, they won’t be able to formulate an intelligent argument beyond swear words and pointing fingers. They never look in the mirror and can recognize they are the problem because they have blinders on.
With that being said, I define myself into boxes not as absolutes – nothing is black and white, but as guides to assist. Unlike the poseurs, I don’t have an image I am presenting that I’ll give up everything to maintain just to continue living a lie. I live life fully without fear. The poseurs live in constant fear of reality which is their choice. They live a life not of reality but of spectacle and melodrama. Everything in the world is about them. They are very selfish. They are people I want not to be associated with.
Maybe that’s why it’s time to sell my vest. Those who are “punk” aren’t really punk. I don’t want to be associated with people who are a lot of talk and never any action. People who have to hide behind a computer to make jabs at others because they are so uncomfortable in their own skin. Cowards and oppressors. Being exactly what I am fighting against. I have no time for you.
To me, punk is the fight against complacency. Well written! My 95 year old grandmother is more punk than most.
As Joey Shithead said “Talk – action = zero”
Yes, it’s that too. Your 95 year old grandmother sounds awesome. Thanks for the comment!
Maybe this is why I never “look” like any of the identities I id as. It always seemed like too much effort to “fit the crowds”. Fashion is a way to tell the world our politics but, like everything else, it can become something we slave ourselves for. Today, like most days, I’m wearing a collar and studded wrist cuff. I like the way they look and I like what they represent to me and I like that they probably telegraph some of my personal politics to others. But they’re just accessories. I’m still who I am when I don’t wear them.
Those kids are stupid and probably hate themselves. I’m sorry they were dicks.
That said is your vest still on etsy? I’d love to take a look at it.
Found it! Yeah, those kids are just jerks. It’s clear you put a lot of work into it. Wonderful work.
Very true post here.
I try to be true to myself. But often find myself having to battle stereotypes, usually pushed on by people that act like me. I fall into the category of cross dresser to many (in fact I am just androgynous in appearance but male in every other way), and I go for a Goth look, and think and act much like the perky variety. (One incorrect sterotype: Goths are downers, and hate humanity, and are vampires, blah blah blah)
But Crossdressers are their own worst enemy by putting down people that take my path, which is the happy medium between the two (though leaning toward fem cause….I like how women look, and I like women. LOL).
I notice other “oppressed” groups are also their own worst enemies because they attack one another. Blacks attack gays, Gays attack Bis, and so on. It is all stupid.
It helps no one to fit to a stereotype, and attack those that don’t.