The Irony-Industrial-Complex
2025-10-01
I took an extra dose of an as-needed sleeping pill last night with the intention of going to bed early and waking up well-rested. I fell asleep easily, but woke up this morning feeling rather tired. I still feel tired this afternoon, but I am solving this problem the way millions of Americans do: caffeine. Yes, I drink about 300 mg of caffeine first thing in the morning and then about another 150 in smaller spurts over the course of the day. The FDA says 400 mg is the reasonable limit, but reason? Limits? My God, how about you guys get a GRIP?
Anyways, I finished reading this excellent essay from a guy named Lewis Hyde called Alcohol and Poetry, where he analyzes poems from John Berryman's Dream Songs collection. To briefly summarize, John Berryman was a poet, but also an alcoholic. Hyde introduces his essay by describing a prevailing opinion: that Berryman's alcoholism was the vehicle for his poetry. He then dissents this opinion by referencing Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) and their take on alcoholism as a disease, something that would actually hinder Berryman's poetic ability. Hyde's main thesis is essentially that addiction is opposed to creativity, which I wholeheartedly agree with.
I originally heard of this essay from watching a David Foster Wallace interview that I like where DFW mentions it in passing. DFW paraphrased this blurb:
"Irony has only emergency use. Carried over time it is the voice of the trapped who have come to enjoy their cage. This is why it is so tiresome. People who have found a route to power based on their misery—who don't want to give it up though it would free them—they become ironic. This sustained complaint is the tone of active alcoholism."
As a younger man, I hid so much of my complaints through irony. I distinctly remember classmates in high school telling me "I'm not sure if you're being serious or not" after saying some pithy thing. For me, this was a space I loved to occupy. I was inspired by comedians, internet meme culture, and the general aesthetic of 'edginess' found in young men at the time. I was 18 during the 2016 election, a pawn of memetic warfare. In return, I got chewed up and spit out by the irony-industrial-complex.
I ended up suffering from a similar flavor of the disease that Berryman faced. I drowned my sorrows in marijuana and attempted to 'find myself' through dozens of psychedelic experiences. All I found was a void—a shallow emptiness of the soul. I believed in nothing. I stood for nothing. I was nothing. But then I started actually trying to figure out my relationship with drugs by going to treatment centers.
There I found that same voice of the 12-step program. I finally realized that I am nothing but a by-product of a higher power. For me, it was a matter of not just believing things, but believing in them. I realized that the prison I found myself in was entirely self-constructed and that I had every opportunity to put the key in the door, unlock it, and step out with the rest of my human compatriots.
So with that, I am happy to consider myself freer than I was and closer to God. Maybe one day I can help someone else see that freedom.