Category Archives: General Articles

The Problem with Happiness

Posted on by under Culture, General Articles
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Freshness of Cold by Leonid Afremov

“Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness” seems pretty straightforward as far as founding documents and stump speeches go. And, in a country where little can be agreed upon, this is a famous statement that anyone can nod along to. However, there are some particular problems with this phrase, and not just the hypocrisy of land-owning white men declaring these things as “unalienable rights” even while maintaining chattel slavery and a firm patriarchy. The one I want to parse out is “the pursuit of happiness,” which, while appearing to be the most obvious and benign of the three rights, may be as revealing of the American imagination as either of the other two. What I mean is, while life and liberty as rights was a newer concept in the world (The Declaration of Independence would heavily influence France’s Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen 13 years later), the pursuit of happiness has also not been something guaranteed, or even available, to the average citizen. But, in 1776, Thomas Jefferson decided to put life and liberty right next to the pursuit of things and activities that make people experience happiness.

In America today, the right to life is, for the most part, taken for granted (although this time the hypocrisy suggests that life is a right only for born persons). We assume that all most people have the right to life. Liberty is the one that gets the most controversy, as doomsayers like Ted Cruz claim that religious Christian liberty is under assault and issues of gender and sexuality become some of the most important new discussions in society. The Libertarian movement suggests that liberty is as important as it is elusive.

But enough about those things. It’s the pursuit of happiness which has come to be America’s real sacred cow. The quality of our life and liberty have come to be predicated on how happy we are. Things and activities that generate happiness have become the very things for which Americans aim, and the rewards that are promised for hours and hours of work.

And this is fine – now that humans don’t have to fend off wild animals and we have medicine to keep us around for more than fifty years, it’s great to fill up spare time with leisure, recreation, and the things from which we derive happiness. But there’s a problem, and this is the thesis to which this overwrought introduction has built:

Happiness is cheap. And the exaltation of this cheap happiness is a road to misery that bypasses fulfillment. I hope to show that, while not having the same ring to it, the pursuit of fulfillment is the thing for which we should aim instead.

I can’t say for sure what Jeffy had in mind when he penned the Declaration – maybe he really envisioned all that I’m about to say. And I can’t really say exactly what my fellow Americans have in mind when they think of the pursuit of happiness. But what I see being sold to us, what I see being pursued, what I see being exalted and protected, is happiness that comes from fun, from thrills, from pleasure, from smiles and sunshine and puppies and rainbows. I don’t mean to be sardonic – I really think that happiness, for so many people, amounts to good food, good drink, good sex, good laughs, and good fun. And when we’re not doing one of those things, it is expected that we should keep a good mood. We should just be happy. If we’re not smiling that must mean something is wrong. And Lady Liberty forbid something should be wrong. The happiness I’m talking about isn’t just another word for materialism, but it’s the mindset that being in a happy state of mind is what makes up our quality of life, our measure of success, and the definition of our purpose.

This isn’t right. This is a distraction. We have greater aims in life than the nice feeling we get from being happy. Happiness is great – I like being happy – but devoting our lives to gaining as much happiness as we can is doomed for failure. C.S. Lewis said, “Aim at heaven and you will get earth thrown in. Aim at earth and you get neither.” I think we might say, for the purposes of this essay, “Aim at fulfillment and you will get happiness thrown in. Aim at happiness and you get neither.”

The song “Injoy,” from Beleaf’s depression-riddled album Red Pills + Black Sugar, presents this tension as Beleaf and his guests rap about the troubles of life but also the pressure they feel to appear happy. Beleaf laments that his “smile is counterfeit” and wishes that he could appear happy while also growing as a person. It’s a pretty good song, but its best moment is the very end, in which Beleaf says, “Yeah I’m supposed to fake it till I make it huh/Yeah I’m supposed to be happy, happy/But this life keeps getting worse/But I just keep smiling and pretend that I’m happy, happy.” It’s unsettling, and it should be. The song is inspired by the second verse of the Book of James, in which Jesus’ brother implores his audience to “Count it all joy when you meet various trials.” What Beleaf reveals in this disconcerting end to an anguished song is that to count it all joy does not mean “don’t worry, be happy.” He is struggling with the Christian belief that Christ is ultimate joy, even while experiencing human suffering.

Despite the call for joy, I don’t think there’s much case to be made that the Bible directs Christians to be “happy” all the time. Was Jesus happy when he wept for Lazarus? Do all of the Psalms end with cheerful assurance of God’s help? On the contrary, the Bible is full of sorrow and even anger (Ephesians 4:26, Jesus clearing the temple, etc). And there’s a very good reason for that – it’s through trials that we grow. Growth doesn’t happen in times of ease and comfort – rather, it happens when the trials are very real. C.H. Spurgeon, who struggled with depression throughout his life despite his spiritual zeal, said that “They who dive in the sea of affliction bring up rare pearls.” Some Christians like to say the world will know them by their love, or by their hope, and neither of those are the same thing as happiness.

I generally approach this sort of topic with a Christian and American framework, but I don’t mean to confine it to that lens, even if Christianity is important for my angle on this in particular. The Tao Te Ching, a spiritual text for which I have great admiration, is also lowkey on happiness. Peace, wisdom, balance, harmony, and humility are some of the things of much greater importance to Lao Tzu and other followers of the Tao.

But this issue can’t be confined to spiritual and religious persons either – I think this plays out for just about any spiritual worldview.

Where else to look first but the song “Pursuit of Happiness,” by Kid Cudi, one of the great secular philosophers of our time? In all seriousness, I don’t care if Cudi makes terrible albums for the rest of his life – Man on the Moon: The End of Day is enough to make him a genius forever. The thirteenth song on that album, “Pursuit of Happiness,” has become an anthem for the party lifestyle, but the song isn’t about celebrating drugs, alcohol, and the other things associated with wealth and fame. Rather, the message is that, no matter how much he pursues happiness through the party lifestyle, he’s left unsatisfied: “I’m on the pursuit of happiness and I know/Everything that shine ain’t always gonna be gold/Hey, I’ll be fine once I get it, I’ll be good.” He knows that there is something higher beyond getting high that will satisfy, but has yet to find it. This is one of the messages of his masterpiece album, summed up in the album’s final poem by fellow rapper Common: “The end is never the end. A new challenge awaits/A test no man could be prepared for/A new hell he must conquer and destroy/A new level of growth he must confront himself/The machine in the ghost within/This is the journey of the man on the moon.”

Of course, you might reject Cudi as an outlier with a troubled psyche and a drug problem, but this sort of pained expression is hardly unique to Cudi. It begins with slave songs and black spirituals, which created the blues, which would become the taproot genre for jazz, rock ‘n roll, R&B, Gospel, and hip-hop. In other words, the pain of slaves eventually evolved into almost all of the most popular genres of American music. It also appears in the written poetics of Langston Hughes, Amiri Baraka, and others. This music, this deeply affecting music, does not spring from sunshine and rainbows, but rather comes from the stirring of pained souls longing for something else.

When Dietrich Bonhoeffer came to America in the early 1930’s, he was affected by the mistreatment of black Americans, by the beauty of black spirituals, and by the sound preaching happening in black churches. His time in America moved his theology to theologia crucis, in which the Gospel is hidden and found in suffering. This was a change from his theologia gloriae, which placed God in the presence of a people’s success and well-being, a theology that would have exalted the success of the Third Reich and turned a blind eye to the Jewish people. Finding the Gospel among the oppressed in America helped move Bonhoeffer away from supporting the German government to become a conspirator plotting to overthrow Hitler to save oppressed people from his murderous policies. (ht Reggie Williams, PhD).

I’m not saying that the black experience was bereft of happiness, or that good music and good religion can only come out of prolonged suffering, but these examples illustrate something lasting and something gratifying that exists even when happiness proves difficult to pursue. These examples hint at deeper longings that are more crucial to our well-being than fits of happiness.

This calls to my mind J.R.R. Tolkien’s statement about spiritual longing: “We all long for Eden, and we are constantly glimpsing it: our whole nature at its best and least corrupted, its gentlest and most human, is still soaked with the sense of exile.” This truism shapes his fiction, and we can see some of the ways in which a longing for something better supersedes our quest for happiness. In Middle-Earth, the hobbits are not materialistic happiness-seekers because they spend their time eating, drinking, and smoking. Hobbits do those things, but that’s because that’s what hobbits do – they’re bucolic beings with a love of growing things, and they are in a state of fulfillment when they are growing plants, eating plants, and, of course, smoking plants. Not because they’re bent on happy feelings, but because they are earthy beings with a love for hearth and home. Likewise, the elves are not somber because they can’t find fun things to do – they’re somber because their time is fading away as connections to the natural world become weaker. They aren’t sad because they don’t have meadows to play yard games in – they’re pained because their natural way of life is fading from the world. In short, the joy found in Tolkien’s world is not based in the pursuit of happiness, but in the glimpses of Eden that drive characters to do what is right – to defend their friends, to fight evil, to take care of the earth.

It is clear that many people – writers, ministers, artists, philosophers – have found their greatest meaning not in happiness, but in fulfillment. Why? Maybe it’s because happiness is fleeting but fulfillment endures.

What can pursuing happiness guarantee other than the insatiable need to pursue more happiness? Food, drink, cars, houses, sex, sports, and things like these brings happiness, but do not secure our position against the storms of life. Trials will come. And we need those trials. But how can we expect to face trials and grow from trials, or how can we even expect to survive trials if we are determined to make happiness our default setting? If we spend our lives running as fast we can away from pain and sadness, what foundation do we have when trouble comes?

I find many of these answers presented by Beautiful Eulogy in their song “Anchor,” which has given me much peace and profound joy, even though it has never made me happy and even though it is not a happy song: “It helps me/To understand that we stand on solid rock not on sinking sand/Through the providence of pain you perfect your plan/Predestined to be tested when the works and the Words of/God cooperate and educate men in the great gift of Grace/And Faith. And even though its obvious when my outlook’s/Ominous you’ve bound my heart and my conscience and gave me a constant calmness.”

Whether you believe in purpose and design, there is a space inside all of us that is reserved for fulfillment, and this space can’t be filled with happiness, no matter how hard we pursue it. As a Christian, I might call this “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding” (Philippians 4:7). I expect that a non-Christian would have their own answer for purpose and fulfillment, pre-ordained or otherwise – but I should hope that it recognizes the futility in filling life up with happiness generators rather than the things that lay the foundation of fulfillment and thus provide happiness in turn.

Stop chasing happiness. I don’t think you will ultimately find it. Life is tough and people are fickle. What pleases you today may bore you tomorrow. Pursue fulfillment instead. There are deeper, more beautiful, more worthy things to set your attention on than a comfortable, easy, happy life. The most beautiful roses in life come with unhappy thorns.

Forth now, and fear no darkness.

Soli Deo Gloria

– Peter

White and Woke: How Whiteness Regulates Renegade Members

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Almost a year ago, I wrote that I was done being a white man. I gave the reasons why, and I set out a new course for my racial identity.

Almost a year later, I’m still a white man.

The fact that I have, when possible, declined to give my race on applications and such has not changed the fact that anyone who sees me knows that I’m white. Even as I figuratively scrub at my skin like Lady MacBeth, I can no more change that damned spot than can the leopard – I remain in my pale camouflage that comes with a history of superiority and a future of possibility.

This is not an affliction. Being forced to retain privilege isn’t something that will ever make me ask for sympathy. Even if remaining trapped in a fallacious race is frustrating, well, at least my name will never cause my job application to be summarily thrown out. Don’t mistake this post as a diatribe of fake problems. My frustrations are very real, but I can’t claim that I’m a victim of injustice in this case.

Even though my physical condition has not changed in the past eleven months, I have continued to read and observe and listen and learn, expanding my knowledge and understanding of race – of blackness, of whiteness, and of the way in which the farcical American melting pot has boiled at such unbearable temperatures. I’m no expert, but these are things about which I’m often thinking and learning.

Whiteness is, of course, defined by what it is not (namely, not colored), but, just as much, whiteness lives on because of what it is. Or, more precisely, what it pretends to be. The fantasy of whiteness is built on the foundation of white supremacy, and it engenders what Ta-Nehisi Coates might call The Dream. This Dream is an American Utopia built on comfort and stability and the freedom to pursue the things that people are led to believe will make them happy. There is no room in this world for disturbance.

Awakened Americans with white skin are a threat to the comfort and stability of whiteness. So whiteness must have a solution for the thoughts, words, and actions of people like me, just as it has come up with ways to defend itself against red, brown, black, and yellow people. The solution has been to attempt to prove me wrong, to make me change my mind, or to silence me. Whiteness won’t try to expel me, but it will try to make a part of me disappear, even as it lays claim to my ethnicity. I am still white in the eyes of the world because whiteness will not let me go. Whiteness wants me to holistically blend into society. It wants what I have to offer just as long as there are no racial strings attached.

The strategy revolves around discrediting my views on any grounds that will deny racism and thus perpetuate white supremacy. So I’m told that I’ve been swayed by liberal media – that either my naivete concerning propaganda or my political party affiliation is what has misguided my racial judgement. I’m told that I’m too young to have any accurate idea of who Malcolm X was, or what the Black Panthers stood for. I’m told that I’m insufficiently educated, and that my understanding of history is wrong. I’m told that I can’t possibly understand police work because I’m not a policeman. I’m told that Christ is the answer and I should be more worried about the Gospel and less worried about social issues. In each example, an aspect of my identity (maturity, political ideology, age, education, occupation, religion) bears the brunt of my correction so that my whiteness may remain pristine and a view of people of colored may remain undisturbed.

This is no different from how whiteness explains the actions of other white radicals. When whiteness recognizes actual factual racists (which it rarely does) it explains them away based on geographical location and antiquated heritage – making obvious white supremacists a benign piece of Southern Americana rather than a fabric woven into the entire American tapestry. Whiteness sees armed organizations attacking state property and calls them “militias” with a slightly overzealous love of freedom. Whiteness explains away murderers like Dylan Roof on the basis of mental health. In each instance, whiteness insists that whiteness cannot be the problem.

Whiteness deals with me like it deals with out-and-out racists, civilian armies, and domestic terrorists: it comes up with a reason for us being wrong that preserves the felicity of whiteness.

There is another strategy which is perhaps the most insidious tactic of regulating awakened whites. It is to trap them on one side of the veil and to keep them on one side of the colored line. This tactic uses our own whiteness against us by claiming that, because we are white AND young/uneducated/liberal/idealistic/etc we cannot possibly know what life is like for non-white people (and in my case this has referred to black America). My opinion is discounted because I am not black, let alone poor, urban, and black. Whiteness quiets my opinion of blackness because I am not black, and this will, of course, not change because I can never be black.

But here is the coup de grâce: if I somehow did become black, my opinion on race still wouldn’t count. People of color have been shouting about race for generations and whiteness has not listened. Rather, they are maligned for unsettling the peace and comfort of The Dream. Protesters today are called thugs who whine and complain about imaginary problems instead of dealing with their own issues. Even as whiteness mitigates the offense of the Bundy “militia,” it lambastes every move of Black Lives Matter.

That’s game over, isn’t it? My opinion doesn’t matter because I’m white and don’t really know what goes on, but if I was black, then my opinion wouldn’t matter for an entirely new set of reasons.

But I don’t believe it is game over – otherwise I don’t think I would do what I do. Bleak as it may seem I think there is a way forward, and it will come when people of all colors work together towards these goals. James Baldwin writes: “If we – and now I mean the relatively conscious whites and the relatively conscious blacks, who must, like lovers, insist on, or create, the consciousness of the others – do not falter in our duty now, we may be able, handful that we are, to end the racial nightmare, and achieve our country, and change the history of the world.” And, whereas Baldwin mostly rejected religion, I believe that the Gospel does have the power to help unify people across racial lines.

Yet, even when peaceful racial unity and reconciliation is the mission, whiteness feels threatened. Dr. King was murdered. The FBI assassinated Fred Hampton. Do not forget that.

And, as whiteness continues to regulate renegades like me, I wonder how to awaken white people – how to insist on or create their consciousness – when there was no red pill in my own experience. My awakening was a long and complicated process. I don’t know if I began to mortify prejudice because I liked aspects of black culture, or if my interest in aspects of black culture prompted me to mortify prejudice. There’s no fool-proof formula. All I know for certain is that education is key, and that’s why I hope to teach people about these things going forward.

But a further complication is the racial ambiguity that awaits whites who awaken. To deny your whiteness is to deny yourself a race. I hate my whiteness, so even though I will be white forever I will never feel like I’m a part of the white community. But I can’t be black either. There’s no home for my identity offered there. And rightfully so. I can’t become black just because I like Kendrick Lamar, The Wire, Lupita Nyong’o, or any other aspect of black culture and heritage (and trust me – I like a lot of them). Just because I get emotional listening to “Glory” from Selma doesn’t mean that I can really put myself in community with John Legend when he sings “One day when the glory comes it will be ours” (well, depending on how you look at it, I can and I should, but that’s another discussion). I can’t be sure yet what toll this will take, and how that might affect potentially awakened whites.

So, nearing the end of my first year of attempting to deny whiteness, I’m still white. No surprise there. I knew that wouldn’t change. What I didn’t know was how fiercely whiteness would fight to keep me. I didn’t know how ruthless the regulation of race could be.

I didn’t know I’d be such a nightmare for The Dream.

Recommended Reading

  • The Souls of Black Folk by W.E.B. Du Bois
  • The Fire Next Time by James Baldwin
  • Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates
  • The Autobiography of an Ex-Coloured Man by James Weldon Johnson
  • Quicksand by Nella Larsen

Forth now, and fear no darkness (or whiteness).

Soli Deo Gloria

– Peter

The Shawshank Redemption and the Hypocrisy of Incarceration Nation

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prison

I would bet against me avoiding political commentary in the coming weeks and months. For now, we’ll focus in on an issue that – surprise surprise – has not  managed to hold much place in the ongoing political dialogue. Dialogue is, I suppose, much too kind a word for the bloviating that dominates political rhetoric and disscourse (extra ‘s’ intentional).

The justice system in this country is in need of major fixes and some total overhauls. Among the necessary changes to the justice system is prison reform. The current prison system is a bloated panacea that has become a supplier of neo-slave labor. Additionally, it has disproportionately contributed to the plight of many black communities and created a warped sense of reality that frustrates statistical interpretation and projection. White-collar criminals have unfairly avoided prison sentences or bought their way into nicer detainment centers. There are numerous incidents of prison guards grievously abusing inmates. The current system emphasizes punishment rather than rehabilitation, and life after prison is a really tough go for ex-cons – creating such a high re-incarceration rate.

Despite all the wrongs of the prison system, it seems that Americans, in general, don’t care about their incarcerated compatriots. There’s not a lot of sympathy going around for people locked behind bars. Of course – of course – there are some individuals in prison who are dangerous and deranged and should be kept in prison for the well-being of society. But even the psychopaths should be treated humanely. For the most part, people just tend to not think about the millions of people in prison.

And this neglect, apathy, and outright disdain persists despite the fact that prison is – what’s the word? – I honestly can’t think of the right word. It is a horrific, dangerous place to be. At its most basic level, prison is a box that holds people that need to be kept away from society for a while. But prison so often becomes a cruel and unusual punishment. Taking away life’s luxuries is one thing – subjecting people to physical, sexual, and psychological trauma is another. If you can stand it, listen to a few seconds of what solitary confinement sounds like (hint: it’s not quiet).

But here’s the disjointed and hypocritical part of Incarceration Nation that I want to get at: sometimes we really like prisoners. Sometimes we empathize with them. In fact, I think it’s our natural inclination to have pity on the prisoner.

Because you realize that arguably the most-loved American film of all-time is about prisoners, right? Yes, The Shawshank Redemption has a wrongly-convicted man as its main character, but it takes almost no effort for the filmmakers to get the audience to love all the prisoners, with the obvious exception of the men who repeatedly rape Andy. We’re thrilled, as an audience, to see the prisoners gain some nice things like the library, and everyone has a few notes played on the heart strings in the famous “Opera Scene.”

Morgan Freeman’s character, Red, has to be one of the most beloved characters Freeman has ever played – and he’s a black prisoner who readily admits to murdering someone!

Shawshank isn’t the only example of this either – Cool Hand Luke is another iconic film about prisoners – albeit in a setting that’s a little less “maximum security,” given that we’re supposed to believe most of the prisoners aren’t there for the long haul. Still, this film also manages to make the audience love the convicts and celebrate their happiness and mourn their hardships.

So what the heck is up with that? Why do we like these prisoners but hate the ones in real life?

Is it because of the sadistic wardens and guards? It shouldn’t be – there’s plenty of those in real life too.

Is it because of the vibrant characters? Shouldn’t be that either – there’s some interesting people locked away right now.

Is it because the prison life doesn’t seem as bad as in real life? Well, maybe, but if it was worse in the movies, wouldn’t that make us pity them all the more?

I think we just have to accept this as disjointed and hypocritical. We like the fictional characters that are safely locked away on the big screen, but we ignore and even hate the real life convicts that once walked among us. Watching those films, we can let our desire for freedom and our touting of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness dictate how we feel. We set aside our prejudices and embrace empathy as we see humans locked away in a place none of us want to be.

But when does this disjointedness reveal an unnatural mindset: when we watch the fiction or when we consider the real life prisoners? In other words, are we fooling ourselves when we pity the dangerous criminals on screen or are we dishonest when our empathy withers as the detainees become very real?

I don’t know. I am pretty sure, despite our acceptance of Morgan Freeman’s character, that there’s a racial component to it (and, besides, could we really be scared of Morgan Freeman?). It is worth noting that Red is, if my memory serves, the only non-white character in either film (and in Stephen King’s story, Red is not black).

But racial factors probably compound what might be the real underlying hypocrisy – we can get invested in fiction because it’s fiction. It’s easy to watch a movie and then feel inspired to make a difference, but actually acting on real life problems is so much tougher. Obviously.

What remains clear is a dissonance between our love of freedom and our sympathy for fictional inmates and the way we treat prisoners in real life. Prisoners are people too. Yes, many are dangerous, and many should be behind bars for the safety of others, but the Chateau D’if that we’ve made of  the American prison system needs some major reworking

Forth now, and fear no darkness.

Soli Deo Gloria

– Peter

Be That Friend

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A friend sent this to me. And because he is, for me, “that friend,” I’m putting it on a blog on which only one other guest has ever posted. It also makes sense since I just wrote about “Real Friends” last week. The “Bearded Brawler,” as he calls himself, takes a look at friendship and brotherhood, two of my most favorite things. Using four characters, he encourages us to seek friendships based on unconditional loyalty.

good will hunting

In today’s modernized society, men are lost trying to figure out how their friendships with other men are supposed to work. Manly relationships aren’t understood by many, because these friendships are not solely based in words said, but rather in deeds done. A man’s best friend may not ever text him, but you can bet he will be next to him when shit hits the fan.  Their friendships are based in a moral code for each other, what is sometimes referred to loosely as the “Bro-code.” I’m going to explain this manly code using characters from movies and literature to show what kind of a friend a man should be for another. Keep in mind, at the end of the day your friends are not those who say happy birthday to you on Facebook, they are the ones standing next to you when you are in need of friend.

Disclaimer: I’m a man. I’m writing this from a man’s point of view. That being said, I am not being sexist in writing this. I am simply trying to help guide men who think are not sure just how they are meant to act with their friends, or who their friends are. I never, nor will I ever understand the relationships women have with each other, which is why I’ve stuck with just writing to and about men. Lastly, even though this is aimed at helping men, it may indeed help women to understand the men that they relationships with.

Doc Holliday, Tombstone: Doc Holliday, sick as a dog, saddles up to face a gunfighter that would test him when he was in perfect health. Why? Because Wyatt Earp is on his way to fight this man, and has no chance. When Turkey Creek Jack Johnson asks him why he’s doing this, Doc answers “Wyatt Earp is my friend.” Turkey responds, “Hell I got lots of friends.” Doc then simply states, “I don’t.” There are two takeaways from this. One, there need not be a long, complicated reason why we do something for our friends, even if it means risking our lives. We can, and should, do it simply because they are our friends. Also, Doc Holliday chose quality over quantity when it came to his friends. It’s better to have one or two really good, trustworthy friends than a hundred shallow friends. Be like Doc.

Chuckie Sullivan, Good Will Hunting: Chuckie would “Take a fucking bat to [Gerald’s] head” if Will asked him to. Be the friend that Will could count on to do that. But there is another aspect of Chuckie that makes him a friend to be like. Chuckie makes two statements in the movie that show how much he cares for Will and that he wants him to succeed. One, “Every day I come by your house and I pick you up. And we go out. We have a few drinks, and a few laughs, and it’s great. But you know what the best part of my day is? For about ten seconds, from when I pull up to the curb and when I get to your door, ’cause I think, maybe I’ll get up there and I’ll knock on the door and you won’t be there. No goodbye. No see you later. No nothing. You just left. I don’t know much, but I know that.” And the second, “Look, you’re my best friend, so don’t take this the wrong way but, in 20 years if you’re still livin’ here, comin’ over to my house, watchin’ the Patriots games, workin’ construction, I’ll fuckin’ kill ya. That’s not a threat, that’s a fact, I’ll fuckin’ kill ya.” These two quotes show us that Chuckie knows his friend has the talent and skill to make it out of the slums, and that he needs to make it out for all of his friends who aren’t able to. Have the loyalty of Chuckie to take a bat to somebody for your friend, and be the friend who can motivate a friend by recognizing their potential and showing it to them.

James Coughlin, The Town: Ultimately James is not the type of man you want to emulate and some may argue that he ends up not being the kind of friend one would want. But there is one sequence of the movie where his friendship is something we should all strive for. His best friend Doug, whom he did jail time for, simply says to him, “I need your help. I can’t tell you what it is, you can never ask me about it later, and we’re gonna hurt some people.” James’ response? “Whose car are we gonna take?” Be that friend. Be the friend that another friend can come to with any request, and be willing to do anything for your best friends.

Wiglaf, Beowulf: Wiglaf is the definition of loyal. When Beowulf fights the dragon he leaves all his men behind and goes to face the dragon solo. However, Wiglaf follows his king to help him face the beast. Wiglaf puts his life on the line for Beowulf when nobody else will, simply because Beowulf is his king and he is fiercely loyal. Eventually the two are able to slay the dragon, though it burns Wiglaf badly and its poisonous bite turns fatal for Beowulf. Be like Wiglaf. Have his loyalty to your best friend(s).

For a man, actions speak louder than words. The way we function in a friendship is no exception. Best friends never have to tell each other that they are best friends, or even really acknowledge to each other that they are friends. What is unspoken by the lips is clearly broadcast through actions.

– The Bearded Brawler