Expanding the Empire
This is what it's all about
Hey ya’ll, it’s been a while since I rapped at ya. More than a year, actually.
It was a single image that drew me out of retirement, an image in Erin Williams’ scary, sad, and amazing graphic memoir, Commute.
The image is this
Or, I should say, that’s roughly the image I saw, as I read it in extremely low light one cloudy morning. I’ve blurred and scrambled it here, intentionally, because that image, the one I didn’t quite see correctly, is very accurate.
Williams’ book is about (among other things) sexual assault, lack of consent, gaze, predation and lot of other things which men are guilty.
When I saw this image, I thought, YES, she sees it, she SAW it, that creature that is the dark creature of Man that causes all the problems.
This is a creature of impulse, disfigured by rage and disappointment, and it changes constantly. There is no single image. It is different at every moment, and I imagine, for every woman at every moment.
What did she see when she saw this man undress, what flashed in his eyes? An impulse— or an impulse followed by dozens of internal reactions, all in a nanosecond.
The impulse, is the impulse to Expand One’s Empire.
But the creature, is a product of that, plus centuries (inside a man, a moment feels like a century) of defeat and desperation.
I stand by this: The drive to expand one’s empire is a man’s most base impulse.
Now of course, we’re all aware, not every man gets an empire. That’s for Genghis Khan, Alexander (The GREAT), Dick Cheney’s GOP.
Most men are LUCKY if they can serve an empire, but most don’t even get that thrill. What most men get, and will accept, is DOMINION. A territory. A teeny teeny teeny tiny empire.
And those are everywhere.
Fucking is the most obvious (a potential empire of successful spermatozoa.) Families are second. Small businesses, networks, territory at work, or (choke) in academia. Admirers, friends, teammates. Lawns. Spreading one’s seed.
As a young person, a young man, I was sort of a have-not, we didn’t have big or fancy things, so genuine territory didn’t seem within grasp. Instead I tested the limits of expression, because expression mattered to me. Expression of thought and feeling. I quickly learned that a lot was unacceptable in the empire (family) I lived in.
Nonetheless, or because of that, at a very young age, I chose my empire: the expression of the human heart. And in empire-building there are concessions, alliances, and negotiations. I slowly tried to expand my own range of expression.
I didn’t realize how lucky I was of course- white and male, etc., a lot of my testing out in public, in mini-comics, or pranks, were generally tolerated, which was enough to score a win on my empire scorecard. How big can the expressiveness of the heart get while not losing too many friends (empire #two)?
This blog is part of that.
When #MeToo really started get going, I told one of my women friends, “You guys [meaning ladies— sorry] don’t know what you’re up against.”
I meant: You hadn’t seen that creature up above, clearly yet. And that creature, when bound together with other creatures— aw jeez, it’s serious.
This is no ordinary battle for justice.
I was walking by my household’s bathroom once a few weeks back, and noticed my 10-year old daughter was in it. For half a nanosecond, I was enraged! I think it had something to do with something with something she had left undone, and for a moment, my dominion over this family, my CONTROL was slipping.
And in a time when I am already losing control over my tween daughter as a human being, that creature inside told me to rage against the loss of empire and control here.
Luckily, I can check these impulses, and I lumbered Homer Simpson like, down the hall, choosing the long-term, healthier goal of a decent relationship with my daughter in the far future, then a controlling one now (which my creature sorely wants.)
I needn’t elaborate, but a lot of similar impulses all across time on this globe, go unchecked.
The man in Erin Williams book* wrote “exclusively on old lady cards” and wrote to her before this moment, that he “wanted to have her in his garden.”
Just a teeny tiny beautiful safe little empire.
Near as I can tell, this man just wanted to fuck, and to be liked by one more pretty girl.
And he looked absolutely frightening when she saw it, “his own thunderous need” she says.
(*I’m laying claim to some understanding of what is presented in the book, but not of her personal story, of which I cannot know… I may be missing something in the book, if so, my apologies to Williams and her story. )
There’s the idea that a king, a real KING, one with an empire, hires scores of minions to run around him, yammering and entertaining, to keep him from ever thinking for a moment, of his own self, and his own demise. (Barbara Erenreich talks about it in Dancing in the Streets, I’ll see if I can find it…)
I get this. Who wants to think about death?
Well, I do. Because in my empire, we express everything. My last comic was about a guy dying, literally called “B. is Dying.” and my year-long (and running) project of songwriting resulted in at least 50% songs about death. Maybe I don’t want to think about life.
But anyway, Death, of course is the one thing man has no dominion over. We can never conquer death or enfold it into our empire. Insert Shakespeare quote here.
But of course, the current men of financial empire, are all trying to outwit death, through science and wealth. One tech entrepreneur, I kid you not (I am quoting Time Magazine), to this end of immortality, sleeps “with a tiny jet pack attached to his penis to monitor his nighttime erections.”
So friends, you are up against a lot. Empire building, dominion protection, penises augmented with jet-packs, rank-closing and team solidarity. I’m sorry.
I welcome solutions. Of course one is that men learn to accept life on its own terms, without the need to expand (and take or control.)
But that sounds like a great way to keep the less privileged in their place. (“She should have been praying to change her woes/But pastor said "Pray to cope with those")
We need: ritual, culture, community and law, even, that keeps empire-building in check.
Sometimes I crack myself up.
This makes a lot of sense, never thought of empire quite this way, super interesting. Commute sounds great!
Tom, you are vile.
And by that I mean, you are a man, and as you have pointed out, men are vile. I am vile. I bet I'm fucking viler than you, motherfucker! I will kick your ass to prove it!
No, you are spot on with this. Men are shite and we all deserve an explanation. Keep it coming.