At the very beginning of Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Most Incredible Thing,” we encounter a contest—a gathering where every participant proclaims they are capable of accomplishing the most incredible feat imaginable. In Andersen’s world, this contest is not just a call to action but a mirror reflecting our own culture’s relentless drive to outdo itself. Everyone, it seems, is hungry for the title of “incredible.”
This theme resonates loudly in our modern landscape. Consider the recent spectacle at CPAC, where Elon Musk, in an act of raw bravado, brandished a chainsaw. This wasn’t a mere display of recklessness—it was a vivid emblem of America’s perverse obsession with destruction. Like the contestants in Andersen’s tale, we are conditioned to believe that the most shocking act, the most explosive display, is the measure of greatness. From wrestling rings to monster trucks, MMA fights to the glorification of guns, our national narrative is steeped in the art of spectacle.
Yet Andersen’s story challenges this shallow pursuit. The contest he opens with isn’t simply about who can shout the loudest or wield the most dangerous tool—it’s a commentary on the human condition, on our belief that we are all capable of something truly incredible. And while many modern spectacles seem designed solely to incite awe and adrenaline, there is a deeper message here: that the incredible is not found in the act of destruction itself, but in what follows.
Musk’s chainsaw moment, for all its visceral shock value, fits into this broader cultural contest. It embodies the allure of immediate, unrestrained power—a power that our society often mistakes for progress. But just as Andersen’s tale invites us to look beyond the superficial declarations of ability, so too must we see that the true promise lies in the aftermath. The moment when the dust settles, when the debris of outdated systems is cleared away, there is space for a new order—a chance to rebuild with purpose and vision.
In the wake of what many see as a federal government in freefall—a true massacre of institutions and expectations—the call is not for more reckless displays. Instead, it is a call to redirect the energy of our cultural contest. Let us transform the raw, explosive force of spectacle into a deliberate movement for renewal. The incredible thing isn’t the act of destruction; it’s the rebirth that can follow when we channel our collective energies toward meaningful, thoughtful change.
This is our challenge: to reject the shallow lure of mere spectacle and to embrace the possibility of profound transformation. Just as Andersen’s tale begins with a contest where everyone claims to be capable of the incredible, so too does our society need to reassess what we consider “incredible.” If we can move past the obsession with destruction and harness that energy for genuine renewal, perhaps the most incredible thing is not the chainsaw moment at CPAC, but the rebirth that comes afterward.
Feel free to share your thoughts as we navigate this crossroads together.
✨ This post was co-written by Peter McDermott and ChatGPT.
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