Jay Peterson
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I have no idea what specifically causes mass shooters.

2/23/2018

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I'm probably the first person who's told you that all month.
Of course, nobody else knows for sure either.
The scarcity of incidents and even more scarce surviving shooters means samples are small and common factors are numerous. We've got various eggheads rooting around in the brains of the surviving shooters, but we're a long way off from discovering a root cause.
Of course, there's pet theories in abundance. And pet theories breed like tribbles and shit like ferrets.
Which means it's easy to grab onto something you were ambiguous or even hateful about and blame it for the random terror of mass shootings. Guns, prescription drugs, lack of spanking, toxic masculinity, pick your fucking poison.
And the fuck of it is, for all the screaming, the number of deliberate godsdamn liars are relatively miniscule. It's just a handful of folks pulling a theory that makes sense to them out of their ass, and then an expanding cloud of believers repeating various levels of educated guess as fact.
I've been asked repeatedly what causes these. And I have my own theories, just no way to properly slap an "origin: my ass" label before sending it on its merry way. So I'm left with "I dunno, neither does anyone else, unless a breakthrough came in last night that I don't know about."
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Eight and a half years

2/17/2018

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That's how long I've bounced between the theatrical, film, and firearm communities.
I corrected typos on the second (or third, I've forgotten) TFS ever administered when I was still kicking Helmund province sand out of my idiot bag.
And all I have ever wanted in that time is to help people stay safe and informed.
I've gone out of my way to address the theater community as respected professionals, purposefully avoiding the arrogance that pervades so many of the high-level experts in the shooting community. I have dug as deeply as I know how to into laws, statistics, and history, and examined just about every mass shooting (or active shooter incident, however you care to speak of them) since the Aurora theater.
I've taken a world of shit from the same community in that same time frame. The bodies hadn't reached room temperature in Aurora before I reached a theater conference that morning and overheard sneering from the faculty (other fight choreographers, mind), of the notion that "a good man with a gun" could have done anything.
If only they knew who they were standing in the same room with.
It has only gotten worse from there. It's cool when it's all tactical and sleek and adrenaline-rushed. And then a real-life shooting happens and everyone runs screaming from the blood. How dare you approach it?
Over and over again, I've seen the theatrical community either not want my knowledge in the first place, or be embarrassed to be seen wanting to. Academia attached to theaters, even worse.
As I've said more than once, it's like being good enough to suck dick in the backseat Saturday night, but not good enough to make eye contact with in church on Sunday morning.
And I am fucking done with it.
I am fucking done being the boogeyman for every hoplophobic dipshit who can't be arsed to read up, load up, or shut up.
The theatrical world I am leaving entirely for the foreseeable future.
I have sold my entire stock of theatrical firearms and I am surrendering my Theatrical Firearms Safety Instructor Certificate.
(There's no listed way to do that in the Policies and Procedures, but fuck it, I have a lighter around here somewhere.)
That said,
I am, however, remaining in the film world. I am continuing to act, teach, and work on other projects, including a return to Atlanta of my Handguns on Film workshop in late March.
Film may treat me like an embarrassing whore on occasion, but it doesn't sneer quite as much and I'm paid handsomely for my trouble.
At some point in the next few months, I'm going to collate my various essays. They cover every single argument, every single gun control proposal, and every reason why they would fail. I will collect them in a note here and in my blog at Jaythebarbarian dot com, and then I do not know when or if I will speak on the subject again.
If you've been around long enough to read such things and you're still screaming when the alerts hit? Unfollowed. I'm not your fucking babysitter.
(Oh, and be the fucking one to DARE suggest that my experiences have been "encountering other points of view," instead of YEARS of unfounded, willfully ignorant abuse. I don't give a fuck what that dumbass NYT article claimed. I have an IQ in the 160's, a liberal arts degree, most of a second, two combat action ribbons, and a set of bloodstripes; and you think I can't tell the difference between alternate POV and abuse?
Fuck. you.
Be the motherfucker to gaslight me on that and I will roast you so hard your name will be left on my block list in scorch marks.)
Did I mention I was done?
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I quit.

2/17/2018

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A filmmaking point of etiquette.

2/7/2018

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(Bear in mind I'm not claiming this as a hard and fast rule, but rather as something that irritates me and likely irritates others).
Your network is not your fanbase.
I'll repeat that:
Your network is NOT your fanbase.
Attempts to treat it as such will go poorly.
Some context:
This scenario has happened more times than I care to think about. I go to a set, meet new people, do my job, handle problems, and eventually we wrap and go home.
Over the next few days, friend requests from people I met that day start popping up. Once my normal filters activate (do I remember them? Were they good to work with?), I'll usually agree. Fair enough, they were cool to work with, might want to do so again someday.
And then comes the messages. "Watch my video," "subscribe to my channel," or, Gods help you, "crowdfund me!"
No.
No, person I met once, while working, and have not interacted with otherwise.
I'm not your fan.
I'm not your potential investor.
I was (briefly) your colleague, and agreed to become a contact.
I don't know what's more insulting, the direct sell or the form letter "hi, how are you? before you respond, here's a video!"
Now, if you'd come out of the blue with a casting call, a crew call, or even a, "hey Jay, I need an ( x ), you know where I can find one?" I'd have at least taken the time to think about it for a minute.
Worst-case scenario, I don't have, can't do, or don't know anyone who fits what you're looking for, no harm no foul. Best-case, I can direct you to someone who can, or can even offer my own services.
Because THAT is what a network is for.
You want a fanbase?
Get up and do your damn market research.
Follow your genre. Follow your style.
See where FANS of what you do congregate. Not other artists. FANS.
Your network is a poor place to look for them.
(Oh, and first 'but the indie community' argument? WHAT community? You're not asking me to support the community, you're asking me to support YOU. You fail networking.)
I honestly sympathize if this sounds harsh. I know it's a tough business to make it in.
But I've watched so many people shoot themselves in the foot burning bridges they didn't even know they were building, and it's as disappointing as it is irritating.
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    Jay Peterson

    Musings on violence, storytelling, and humanity in general.

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