In 2014, comedian, musician, podcaster and Nashvillian Chris Crofton asked the Scene for an advice column, so we gave him one. Crowning himself the “Advice King,” Crofton shares his hard-won wisdom with whoever seeks it. Follow Crofton on Twitter and Instagram (@thecroftonshow), and check out his The Advice King Anthology and Cold Brew Got Me Like podcast. To submit a question for the Advice King, email bestofbread@gmail.com.
Dear Advice King,
Why does it feel like the end of the world all the time? I feel powerless. The holidays aren’t helping. Any tips on how to feel better?
—Luke in Warwick, R.I.
I think it always feels like the end of the world too. And then it doesn’t, and then it does. And every day is the end of the world for someone. And the beginning of it for someone else.
And there’s always some person who thinks they need to hurt other people to get ahead — which never works. Because you can’t get ahead. How can a mortal get ahead? Get ahead of what?
I was reading about all the horrible stuff Henry Kissinger did. He’s dead now. So what did he get in the end? A mouthful of dirt, like the rest of us. Saints and sinners alike — a mouthful of dirt.
Henry Kissinger gave Indonesia the go-ahead to invade East Timor — using weapons provided by the U.S. Between 1975 and 1999, 200,000 East Timorese were killed. A third of the population.
The East Timorese world ended in 1975.
I think about the tangle of 54 Viking skeletons that archaeologists found, mostly headless, in Dorset, England, in 2009. They were executed — naked — and thrown in an unmarked pit. They were in their late-teens, mostly. Their world ended sometime between the fifth and 10th centuries.
I think about the lyrics to the Talking Heads song “Life During Wartime”:
This ain't no party, this ain't no disco,
This ain't no fooling around
No time for dancing, or lovey dovey,
I ain't got time for that now
I think about World War I, World War II, Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan.
I think about the fact that humans came up with the concept of heaven to make ourselves feel better about ignoring other people’s suffering here on earth: “Let God sort 'em out” — all that bullshit. And those poor headless teenage Vikings didn’t even get to get sorted, because they were pagans. Madness.
My point? We are not the victims here, Luke. At the moment, we’re lucky enough to be discussing this stuff instead of experiencing it. It’s not our world that’s ending — not yet. But it will. In the meantime, let’s try to help. Less hand-wringing and more hand-holding. Less “feeling” and more action.
If you get sad, think about the lyrics to the Frightened Rabbit song “Head Rolls Off”:
When my blood stops,
Someone else's will not.
When my head rolls off,
Someone else's will turn.
And while I'm alive, I'll make tiny changes to earth
And this poem I’m about to write, right now:
"Ends and Beginnings"
[Two guys fishing, 1958]
"The way I see it, It’s some kind of a circle, Fred!
Like, me and you ... and all the animals and trees. I mean, in a way,
the
fish are catching us.”
“What did you say, Walter? I couldn’t
hear you over the engine of that
fucking
boat that
just went by.”
“I said, I love you.”
“I love you too, Walter.”
