Against My "Better Living Industries"

I'm taking a stand. This is how I will fight back. The problem is that I am fighting back just the way the world wants me to, quietly tip-toeing around the status quo. I don't want to remain quiet! I want to unbalance the status quo! Everyone says I have to "act my age" for my children's sake; I'm "an adult." But when my kids are my age, I only hope they stand up for what they believe in and not hide themselves under a blanket of should-do's and suppose-to's. I feel defeated...

Foreword: To all the MCRmy, I know Michael Pedicone is officially part of the band making five, but for this posting, just chill.

 No one understands why I love My Chemical Romance so much. All others see is four sinners who scream violent words to loud noise. Yes, they sing of death, pain, losing lovers, suicide, guns, violence, and fighting main-stream America. Yes, their music is not for everyone, with massive drums, loud guitars, and lyrics sometimes growled out in anger. Even the band members themselves stand outside of the "accepted normal", with unnatural hair color, skinny jeans, outlandish behaviors, and onstage antics that include homosexual gestures. And when you put these guys in this light, I would agree that I wouldn't want much to do with them!

But, how often is that one outward appearance the end of the story? I know at least once everyone has been told not to judge a book by its cover. My Chemical Romance is no exception to that rule!!

These guys do more than "rock." For starters, they are husbands and fathers. And good ones at that! They keep their families out of the spotlight, unlike so many of the celebrities today. There are only a couple of photos floating around of Bandit, daughter of Gerard Way, the lead singer. And the closest the public had gotten to a picture of the faces of Lily and Cherry, twin daughters of guitarist Frank Iero, is some Halloween pumpkins. (Although, proud Daddy does like to post pictures of the girls in funny onsies on a particular social website.)

None of them really even consider themselves celebrities. I recently watched an interview with Gerard where he was asked about the females that chase him screaming and how he handles being famous. It was cute how he seemed almost embarrassed at the thought. He seemed to be taken back by people following him, wanting to talk to him, be near him. If you weren't aware of who he was, you might have thought he sang someone else's songs as a cover. He just lacked that pomposity and narcissism that alot of other celebrities have. (And, yes Gee, you are famous.) He was grateful to have his life. Hmm, grateful is a word lacking in LA today.

Additionally, these guys are brothers (well, two are actually brothers by birth). They have been there for each other, no matter the circumstances. Anyone should be as blessed as to have a friend, much less 3, like that! Gerard had a bad drug and alcohol problem way back when. He would come out onstage drunk and high, stumbling around. To be honest, I'm still not sure he's 100% clean. Regardless, his band members and friends rallied around him, helping him to clean up his life. Frank has even said in an interview that they all stopped drinking alcohol socially (at least around him) for Gerard's benefit. Really, where I can I get some of these friends?! Then, they even turned it into a positive! I couldn't help but giggle when Gerard said in an interview how lyrics now made more sense to him and some of the older ones he had written high still didn't.

(I am aware that this is quite a touchy subject for the band, so I will proceed with caution!) A few years ago, a young teenager committed suicide. The local press blatantly blamed My Chemical Romance and their lyrics. In the very little bit that the band has said on the subject, it is obvious, crystal clear, they were rocked to their foundations by even the thought they might have had anything to do with this tragedy. I believe it was Ray who said once that Gerard took it the most personal. (Even today, when mentioned, Gee's face becomes almost "tortured," for lack of a better word.) From that point on, they have taken a moment at their shows to make what I can only call a public service announcement. There is more than one video on YouTube of Gerard encouraging the audience to seek help if they feel like hurting themselves. What a horrible menace to society; who wants a role model that does that?! (<=Sarcasm!)

...which lead to their lyrics. This is where my blood nearly boils! I will admit their earlier lyrics are graphic, desolate, and sometimes violent. But I want to scream that people need to hear past the words! I could fill a book with what I think the different lyrics mean. Some lyrics have multiple meanings! I can hear passion, emotion, and poetry in these songs! For one example, I'll use "Demolition Lovers" (my personal favorite) from their first album. The lyrics are about two lovers that are tearing each other apart. He is professing his love to her, willing to die for her, with her. As the song continues, the music builds, and the desperation in his voice grows, leading to the song stopping suddenly half way through the word "everything" as he declares "until the end of every..." Several seconds pass that feel like eternity (during which my mind's eye sees an unspeakable, horrifying act). Softly the guitars and drums pick up, slowly crescendoing, then quickening the tempo, and raising the emotion once again. The lyrics resume, and you finally realize they are dying, falling into pools of their own blood, reaching for each other. Perfect. (If that's not what you guy really wrote, please don't tell me! I'm happy in my ignorance.)

Why is "Demolition Lovers" any different from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet? Didn't Juliet feign suicide? Then Romeo, in his overwhelming grief, drank the poison? Only for Juliet to plunge Romeo's dagger deep into her gut when she awoke to his dying gasps? Or did I read a different version? People call this play "beautiful," "romantic," "passionate." It has been declared a classic love story. Um, hmm, these two stories are very similar to me! So because My Chemical Romance is in the 21st century, they can't write lyrics like this? Is it because we, today, have a "higher" standard of political correctness? (As if politics could be correct...) Is it because the demolition lovers are using guns? I'm just confused. I don't understand, and not just for this example, why is it okay for classics to offer the same "stuff", if you will, that is such taboo for My Chemical Romance. That seems like a double standard to me.

And let's look at their latest album. While still offering the same flair of drama and passion with that special touch of gruesome they do, My Chemical Romance has brought to today's youth a challenge to fight back. "Art is the weapon" is the album's motto. They are challenging people to stop letting "corporate America" think for them and to start thinking for themselves. They are offering themselves as inspiration for a new generation of artistic free-thinkers. There is a message of teamwork and brotherhood hidden in the lyrics. But to me, the best part is the personal touches. It's not just another corporate produced money machine. These guys put themselves into the lyrics. "Summertime" is literally a public love song from Gerard to his wife Lindsey (which makes me feel kind of "weird" listening to it).

My Chemical Romance calls upon their fan base, nicknamed the "MCRmy", to give of themselves, too. Right now, they have asked the fans to offer visual media for a video project that will benefit the people of Japan in need due to the earthquakes, tsunamis, and the nuclear crisis. This gets people involved. It raises awareness of Japan's plight with a group of people who may otherwise not care. My Chemical Romance has gotten others involved and is reworking one of their songs to re-release to raise money for the Japanese people. And this is not the first time they have gotten themselves AND their fans involved in world tragedies. (The band was actually founded because of September 11, 2001, which is referred to in at least two songs.)

The only statement I have a hard time arguing against is whether or not the fans are being led to believe what the band and producers are telling them to believe instead of the truth. I really don't believe that! I just lack evidence for such an argument. For as much as they can be, I believe these guys to be genuine. They just love what they do. They are living the their dream, my dream. The problem lies in that I don't really know these guys personally. Alot of teenage girls see them as sex symbols, claiming the band members' last names as their own (in jest) on social websites.  Yes, I had my "idols" when I was a teen, as well. (Just to note, I am in the same age range as the band.) My love for them is different from a teenage infatuation, though; I would love to be friends with these guys and their families. I would settle for just being in their larger circle, able to "rub elbows" occasionally. I don't want to have sex with them! I want to live with the courage they do, to be themselves, no matter what others think! They just seem to bring such light to everyone they meet, especially Gerard. Our local comic book shop owner has spoken with Gerard several times at Comic-Con and has only the nicest things to say about him, how "accommodating" he is. Who wouldn't want someone like that around them? (Speaking of, I have one of the promo cards for the new Killjoys comic signed by Gee, for those who know what I'm talking about...hehe)

I know I could write this all day long, I could host seminars on this subject, and people still won't understand. My husband is one of these people. I am extremely emotional; I make emotional attachments to alot of things. My husband is not, and he does not. To him words are words, stuff is stuff. I'm not saying he's void of emotion; on the contrary, he feels strongly when he does find something "worth" spending the energy on to have an emotion. We are just different that way. I LOVE My Chemical Romance; he thinks they are four guys in LA (who can't really sing) with a record deal. But it's not just my husband I'm talking about!  Or people like him. Even so-called fans that don't get it irk me!

I suppose it could be said I am not just a fan of My Chemical Romance. I am a fan of the guys that make up the band as well. If you asked those close to me, they would say the band and the guys have become an object of my OCD, which even I have to admit to at least a little. I am glad to say I'm not quite a stalker, though. While I do know alot about the band and the individual guys, I haven't made an effort to memorize things like birthdays. (It's not like you have to, though; all the teenies will make sure you know one of their birthdays is approaching, but that's not helping my case here.) I just read and watch almost any material I can get my hands on about them. I just LOVE watching their interviews (and especially when Gee admits to having babies with Frank (inside joke)). I really just want others to see in these guys what I see. I know they aren't perfect. I know there are things about them that are part of that "rock star" personna; no one could completely avoid changing given what these guys have achieved. The point is they are great guys that write music with tragic, beautiful meanings, that have stayed fairly well grounded, and that are decent role models, especially for some of today's youth that won't listen to the role model types of yesterday. If only people would open their eyes to see it...

My Knight in Beat-up Armor

This past week was pretty rough for me. I got to a low point I haven't been to in a while. You might know the one I'm talking about, the one no one else knows about and you dare to mention. You put on a happy facade for everyone, while inside your guts are churning and hopelessness is slowly taking over. Not a pleasant place to be I admit and even worse to just admit I was there to the world.

I thought I was hiding my frustration and anguish pretty well. I was determined to keep it covered. I was fighting myself; part of me wanted to hide in a corner while the other part of me seemed aware of my darkening depression but was powerless to stop it. Then Thursday came.

Thursday I started my final revision to my English essay, but it all just seemed wrong to me. My sources weren't strong enough to support my thesis; my points and explication didn't seem quite together; my annotation was basically the same poem in different words, although it was a straight forward poem to start with. This, however, was just the superficial issue. Deeper and darker problems were churning below the surface. Problems I will not discuss here.

That evening, the stress finally broke me. I lashed out at Thomas, giving him the best Hell-hath-no-fury I could muster. My misery wanted company. Through the haze of my depression, everything he did was wrong. Every word was wrong. What he didn’t do was wrong. His opinions, his feelings, his attitudes, all wrong. I was bound to let him know in great detail how he had failed me. If only I could foretell the future...

At first, he was defensive, stammering back excuses, all of which infuriated me further. With each excuse, I cut into him a little deeper. He finally had enough! Suddenly HE was on the offensive.

 I have said to many people multiple times Thomas keeps me grounded; he knows how far to let me fly before my wax wings start to melt. Thomas knows me, sometimes better than I know myself. He has this uncanny ability to be there at just the moment I fall apart to catch all of my falling pieces, and he knows just how they all fit back together. This was no exception. When defense didn’t work, he took the offense. But not to seek vengeance. Thomas sought only to break the cycle I was in, to draw my attention to him in a different way.

Slowly Thomas talked me down, drawing out shreds of my truth one piece at a time. He was once again catching my pieces. Somehow, he suddenly had all the right words. He carefully began putting my pieces back together again. He opened himself, his very soul, up for me to see. He shared with me a few of his most guarded thoughts. He told me how he needed me. HE needed ME!

I went to bed that night emotionally exhausted. The next morning, my depression didn’t seem as dark when I awoke.

I’m not claiming Thomas “cured” me. I’m still climbing back out of my dark place. I’m not even sure if he was aware of what he was doing, from a psychological point of view. All I know is that if you look really closely, you can see the workings of a really awesome marriage. What makes it so awesome is that we know each other, inside and out. I can tell at a glance from across a room what he’s thinking. He knows where I’m heading before I am aware I have even started going. We can finish each other’s sentences. We know for the most part how the other will react to nearly anything. And it didn’t get that way overnight. It took us 13 years to get where we are. It took nights like Thursday for us to learn each other so intimately.

And I know, this is not the last battle we will ever have. There will come a time when I will forget the awesomeness Thomas carries within, and he will again become my target. I know, though, that he will be there for me because he has proved that he will.

My husband is amazing! I can truly say he is my better half.