Ever since the news broke of what happened down at the UC-Santa Barbara campus, I've seen no end of people of both genders flexing their internet muscles trying to dissect and analyze Elliot Rodger, his well-documented motivations, and also use it as a microcosm for the problems facing men and women in the 21st century.
In many cases, the dissections have been done with all the subtlety of a chainsaw. Men calling out women saying, in no uncertain terms, that this is what happens when "we're not given what we want," like affection, love and sexual compatibility are mere commodities, or even worse, things that we inherently "deserve." Women, meanwhile, return fire with the standard rants about how men are nothing but neanderthal misogynist animals who are never content with the power they have over their female counterparts and this is another example of why they can never, ever be seen as the "victim" in any situation.
*Editorial Note - For the record, the almighty "Victim Card" is a gender-neutral construct in our culture. Both sides use it at the drop of a hat, over any perceived slight. I've used it way more times than I probably ever had a right to, and it's been used against me when there was no basis for it to be employed at my expense. The fact that it is the standard go-to in any discourse about the problems between men and women shows how fucked up the divide truly is.
It doesn't take more than reading a paragraph or two of Rodger's manifesto to see the guy had a very distorted view of the world around him and those who occupied it. Of that, I don't think there will be much dispute. I'm also not about to defend his views either, for they are of someone who has truly lost his grip on his reality, perception, self-image and self-control.
That said, and in no way does this fill me with a measure of joy or pride for being able to, but on a lot of levels, I can empathize with him. The degrees of separation which stand between me and someone like that are not many, and that comprehension frightens me like few things do.
The manifesto's thesis was that Rodger's actions were somehow justified because he was continually spurned and rejected by the women he was attracted to, so therefore his only remaining option was to view ALL women as the "enemy," which made the retribution he sought also justifiable. I don't empathize with him in that respect because I don't agree in any way with his position.
What I do empathize with him on, however, are the feelings of alienation, rejection and uncertainty about self-identity. Reading through the 137 pages, it was like going down a comparative checklist.
Early family breakdown: CHECK
Frequent relocations through childhood: CHECK
Emotional issues brought on by new parental dynamic: CHECK
Social detachment away from people towards technology: CHECK
Ostracized and devalued by peers: CHECK
Early attempts to form relationships with girls stifled: CHECK
Issues dealing with puberty and related development: CHECK
I make no bones at all about the fact that in hindsight, I was a bad kid. I was angry, withdrawn and incredibly socially awkward. I was also incredibly confused, depressed, wounded, lonely and desperate for both acceptance and more importantly, love, by any means necessary. When you don't get those things, you're left with two options for why you're somehow disqualified from what you see those around you, who you grow to envy immensely, have.
It's either everyone else's fault or it's your own, and I truly hate to say this, but the validity is there.
The people who decide it's themselves are the ones who ponder and commit suicide. Those who decide it's everyone else's, usually plans and then orchestrates ways to make them suffer for their indignity.
Yes, there's been times when I've thought about both. I guess what separates me from someone like Elliot Rodger is that I've always come to the conclusion that I was the problem and if I was going to take my anger out on anyone, I deserved it more than the other person. That doesn't mean, however, that the animosity completely dissipates, though. Like anything else, with repetition comes familiarity and familiarity is how we shape our perspective.
So someone who's had repeated success, adulation or moral and emotional support will have a much different view of the world than someone who, for whatever reason, never got any of that. It breeds bitterness, envy, hate, and an expanded lack of understanding.
You ask yourself the questions, "What is it about me that is so wrong that I can't have what they have?! We're both human! We're both intelligent creatures and came about the same way. Why do they have it so easy and I have it so hard?! Why can't I be like them?!"
When it comes to trying to forge a relationship with a woman, I am historically 0-9, going all the way back to when I escaped the little kid "puppy love" phase we all go through before puberty sets in and the hormones are unleashed like a supernova. Every single one of them never panned out. Sad, maybe, but also true. To be absolutely clear, I'm not holding those nine women completely accountable for that, either. In terms of responsibility for why it didn't happen, I'd honestly go no less than 80/20 on me for that.
The last time I tried to start a relationship, I remember very clearly saying to the woman I was interested in that I don't know the first thing about trying to be the "right" kind of man in the modern age. I'd like to think I have a very firm grasp on the basic foundations of respect, honesty, and trust, but everything else was still pretty sketchy, especially after a 16-year relationship with the only woman ever interested in me enough to go on a date, let alone marry me.
So I said I wanted to learn. I wanted to learn about her, what she was like, who she was and who she wanted to be, and I was hoping in some measure to learn about myself as well. What I was capable of as a man, as opposed to the wildly inaccurate machinations and ideas I had as I was developing into one.
Needless to say, as I am still single, that approach didn't seem to go over so well either, I guess.
I asked some female friends a while back what goes through their minds when the turn a guy down. Do they feel any sort of remorse about it? Does it bother them that they have to? Do the feelings and potential damage that might do to a guy matter at all? I asked not to be vindictive or snide about it. I just wanted to know if it hurt them anywhere near as much as it hurt me every time I got told to keep on looking. In their defense, they did say that it wasn't always easy and it depended both on the circumstances and the guy.
I love women. I love everything about women. But for reasons I'm still trying to figure out, I don't understand them and they don't seem to understand me much either. Elliot Rodger clearly didn't understand them. He thought he ""owned" them. That he somehow had a "right" to them just because he was a man and that's how it's "supposed to work."
He was a complete fool in that respect, but no one in his circle seemed interested in answering the questions he was asking his whole life. Along with the victims, that is the real tragedy here. Like so many other times before, this could've been prevented if ANYONE, be it a man or a woman, had ever sat down and bothered to listen.
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