The strong, silent type

A man of few words, one who commands attention when he speaks, because his listeners value his rare morsels of exposition. A man who has a skill and does a job and does it well; he's either an indispensable part of a working system, or a self-sufficient loner who can spend eternity by himself without feeling a pang of longing for human company. In short, the "strong, silent type."

For a time, that's the kind of image I envisioned myself embodying. Like Robert Redford in Out of Africa, or the fat driver guy in Ronin. These are men of strong character who don't lie and never need to. Friendly extroverts who are easily swayed by social influences would look at these men and wish for the strength to be like them, wish for the patience to live a life that draws respect and admiration and occasional pity. I've known people like this in real life, people of frustrating brevity who compelled me to pester them into conversation, a task at which I rarely succeeded.

I can never be such a man. When I sit with a group of friends and the opportunity arises to make an obscene or painfully corny joke and run the risk of embarrassing myself, temptation overwhelms me, and fulfilling an ideal image of myself isn't enough motivation to stifle my social compulsions. My quest to become the strong, silent type has led me to believe that such people are either A. Miserable on the inside because they're faking it, or B. Borderline sociopaths.

The strong, silent type, as I've described it, is an extreme. There are midpoints along the spectrum, a spectrum that ranges from stoic recluse to Paris Hilton. Most personalities fall on these midpoints. It's natural for most people to desire to be the strong, silent type, but like I said, it takes patience. And sacrifice.

What needs to be sacrificed as you get closer to the strong, silent type? Catharsis. On second thought, catharsis is too wholesome a word. More like, satisfaction. Personifying the strong, silent type requires sacrificing the satisfaction you get from perverse social exchanges. These exchanges include telling someone their loved one died, your loved one died, or someone else's loved one died; betraying a friend's confidence in order to use their secret to deprecate them, make conversation, or just make yourself seem more interesting; and flirting with someone who's spoken for, just to flatter yourself and, if you're lucky, get them to admit that they'd rather be with you. The strong, silent type doesn't meddle with these selfish endeavors. It's not that he's totally selfless; that side of life simply doesn't concern him. Social deception, petty feuds, all that crap isn't important. He lives in a different perspective.

Sadly I can't think of a way to conclude this now, so I'll have to settle with leaving it at this. My point was, people who engage in the aforementioned perverse social exchanges are people who possess an extreme unwillingness to sacrifice their social satisfactions. They cannot satisfy themselves with being good, quiet people. And yes, this post is heavily influenced by my disdain for these people, or more accurately, this personality type. It's a fast, easy and weak way to live, and one which I find myself embracing on occasion, to my regret. That's what I'm thinking.

postscript: I just wanted to post something since it's been so long since my last post. Maybe this wasn't the most appropriate cessation of my blogging moratorium? ergo vis-a-vis concordantly