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Anthony Weiner, patron saint of sniveling dirtbags, is a tragic figure. Oh yes. Don't snicker or judge. Even Aristotle, the deadest and whitest of dead white men, would have to agree. That ancient Greek would have seen in Anthony Weiner a nobleman brought low by his own hand, and he would have insisted that those watching the spectacle feel fear and pity.

Well, those of us who live in America in the 21st Century have fear to spare, but we're all out of pity—at least, when it comes to other people.

Every white heterosexual man in America should watch Weiner, one of the greatest political documentaries of all time. He should sit down in leather chair with a glass of scotch and tremble before the tragedy of Anthony Weiner, disgraced white heterosexual laughingstock. Because the feisty former congressman's fall from grace—TWICE—is a cosmic warning to all mortal men: Gaze upon Weiner's ruin, ye mighty, and despair, for all heterosexual white men have the potential to be him.

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Weiner's pride and lust and ambition are nakedly on display in Weiner. The only thing that separates a moral man from an immoral man is one simple choice. There are so many choices to make! So you're only as good as your last good, honest, openhearted decision.

This has been a triumphant year for white heterosexual men, so it's a perfect opportunity to watch and re-watch a documentary that follows the pathetic fall and rise and fall of a man who could have become mayor of the most dynamic city on earth—if only he hadn't thought he could get away with doing what he knew he shouldn't have been doing.

Once again, the political leadership of this country looks like the kind of friendly white heterosexual men who'd sell your grandmother a reverse mortgage. It took a while, but white heterosexual men finally have a voice in the civilization they'll tell you they single-handedly invented without any help from anyone else in the whole of human history.

You think that would mean these white heterosexual men would be humbled by their recent victories. That with power comes wisdom and mercy. Well, no: Politics is the pursuit of power. Power is vulgar. It deforms and inflates and consumes. It also feels good. Like, super good. So good, in fact, that you think you can do anything and get away with it. (Ha, ha. No you can't.)

So watch Weiner, white heterosexual men, and then fall to your knees. Wait—before that, delete your DMs. And don't just passively watch, either. Press your face up against the screen and witness. It's really good.

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The behind-the-scene access the filmmakers had to the resurrection and self-immolation of Weiner is remarkable. The moments between Weiner and his wife Huma Abedin—one of the most powerful people in the world at that point—awkwardly trying to balance ambition and truth and power without wrecking their marital alliance beggar belief. And, of course, it is truly stunning to watch the skin-crawling scenes when Weiner's uncontrollable appetite for sexually improper communications with adoring young women comes to light. For an unbelievable second time, too—and once more again after the cameras stopped rolling and the film was released in theaters.

He certainly deserves the humiliation. There is no argument that he is an epic creep, the kind of character tabloid editors fantasize about during slow news days. Anthony Weiner will be a gross and embarrassing footnote in history, albeit a masterfully documented footnote.

Anthony Weiner will be a gross and embarrassing footnote in history, albeit a masterfully documented footnote.

But Weiner isn't just a political documentary. Yes, you may have laughed and pointed at him. You may have cringed or rolled your eyes or slowly shaken your head. But white heterosexual men should not enjoy this as an entertainment. They—we—should recognize that the gods really, really, really hate arrogant assholes.

According to Aristotle, a tragic hero brings about his or her own fall. Traditionally, this hero is highborn and virtuous. He or she has everything going for them. This hero then experiences a change of fortune that is the direct result of the hero making an unwise decision. This decision is made because of some kind of "tragic flaw"—usually hubris. We humans are vulnerable to our vices, especially when we refuse to acknowledge that we have any. Know thyself and, most of all, know this: Your shit stinks. The ancients really wanted it to be known that pride goeth before the fall. A tragedy is not an accident. It is what happens when a good person makes an epically bad call and then must suffer the consequences.

Sundance Selects

Aristotle wrote that tragedy should inspire fear and pity, and then, catharsis in the audience. Catharsis is another word the modern world has cheapened. A catharsis isn't a climactic explosion of emotion. It's not sobbing at therapy because your childhood was unhappy. A catharsis is a howl broadcast from the depths of your guts. The tears are hot. The sorrow genuine because there will be no forgiveness. It's a human fully taking responsibility for their actions—their stupid, selfish, ugly actions.

Anthony Weiner's downfall is a tragedy. The documentary, by design or not, portrays Weiner as a talented politician with so much potential and then, stares, unblinking, at him as his pride and lust and ambition eat him from the inside out.

Weiner is a hated man, but we should pity him while we have the chance. We all have the capacity for vanity and arrogance, and while each of us tells ourselves we are good, it's a lie. The only way to be good is to know, deep down, you are capable of horrible things. His tragedy is ours. Aristotle, I think, would argue that all humans should contemplate this tale of a man given everything—including a second chance—who squandered it because he is mortal, and therefore, flawed.

I can be prideful and lustful and ambitious. And so can you. We live in times when we reserve pity for ourselves. So be it. But heed the warning of this tragedy my fellow white heterosexual men: Don't be a sniveling dirtbag. Or else.

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