Monthly Archives: March 2014

That’s politics, bitch.

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I despise election season. It’s not just because I live in a battleground state that gets engulfed in campaign ads; those can be ignored. It’s the people that I hate:  all of the condescending douche-nozzles that come out of the woodwork to pretend like their opinions actually matter. Anyone who broaches the subject of politics, especially in a bar, is trying to accomplish one of two things. Either they’re actively trying to pick a fight, or appear socially responsible and well informed, when in reality, they’re just regurgitating someone else’s ideas, passing them off as their own, and then looking around to see how impressed everyone is. I may be cynical, but I don’t think there is a single person alive who will ask someone else their political views because they legitimately want to hear them. More likely, they’re just waiting for their turn to talk, or can’t wait to tell you why your opinion is wrong.

As a result, I typically try to avoid the topic altogether, especially with people older than me.  There’s just no winning when you’re young. We want to seem like active members of society, but we’re too busy chasing our dreams and trying to get laid to truly give a shit. Older people know this. They’re envious of this. So they ask us our opinions just to make us feel stupid and give themselves a false sense of superiority. I urge you, dear reader, do not take the bait. I know your pride will fight you on this, but resist. It’s a trap. They’ll sneer at you for not forming an opinion about the world around us, and then when you finally do, they’ll disregard it and call you naive. “You just don’t understand,” they’ll say.

No shit, we don’t understand. Do you know how difficult it is to develop a well-informed opinion on political policy when most of the information readily available to the public is all rhetorical bullshit? The whole arena has devolved into a culture war, and instead of enlightening the general public by helping them navigate the major points (you know, news), it creates a nationwide shouting match where the loudest voices prevail, regardless of the insanity they’re spewing. Sure, every one claims to have an open mind, and yet they only follow news that reinforces the opinion they already have (I believe that’s called hypocrisy).

Arguing about politics is a lot like arguing about religion: everyone thinks they’re right and no one is willing to compromise.  Here’s a list of phrases you will never here in a political discussion: “That’s a good point.” — “I disagree, though I can see things from your point of view.” — “Thank you for introducing me to such a fresh perspective.”  There can’t be a winner when truth is subjective, and arguments are based on the future outcomes of present actions.

I think that political debates are the only proof we need that humans evolved from monkeys. Intelligent discussion quickly gives way to personal attack, and the whole format devolves into a childish stalemate, where neither side has anything original to say so they both just keep screeching and throwing the same shit at you over and over and over. It’s no wonder all of these white collar criminals get away with the systematic rape of our financial system: they know the majority of the population is too stupid to know when they’re being fucked. I certainly am.

I swear I wasn’t high when I wrote this

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Disclaimer: the following is based on nothing even remotely resembling a reliable source. 

Humans have evolved to such a point, and in such complete domination of every other living thing around us, that we no longer need our baser instincts. We don’t need to fight for survival. Unless of course you live in a country ravaged by epidemic or war, but I’m not talking about people with actual problems. I’m talking about Americans. We buy our food in mass quantity, with everything we could ever need conveniently located at the corner store. Our meat comes from a small, airtight package, instead of a rotting animal carcass that we had to bring down ourselves. Fresh water is pumped directly into our homes. All we have to do is turn a nob, and out comes instant nourishment. We use solidified water to keep our other water cold, because the building blocks of life need to be a certain temperature or their not worth drinking. When water pours from the sky by the hundreds of gallons, we consider it a bad day.

People used to measure the passing of time not by the year on the calendar, but by how many winters they had survived, because that shit was an achievement. It was something you prepared for months in advance, cutting wood and storing food, so your family didn’t starve, or freeze to death. Today, we get pissed when we have to wake up 15 minutes early to clear the snow off our car. But who would want to leave the comfort of their home? All we have to do is flip a switch and heat is pumped into a ventilation system (that we don’t know how to build) which runs throughout our entire house.

We can’t even imagine the worst case scenario:  having to huddle together with our family around a shitty little fire, praying that everyone makes it through the night, but secretly hoping someone doesn’t, because it’s been three days since we’ve eaten anything and our little brother’s calf is starting to look more and more like a drumstick. And he’s so small and weak, there’s no sense in all of us starving when he’s probably going to die anyway.

I always find it funny when people talk about what they would do in the event of a zombie apocalypse, because the vast majority of us wouldn’t be able to survive. Fending for ourselves? Fuck no.  Most of us don’t know a thing about survival, because our evolution as a species has made our most basic needs a non-issue. The people in charge of the human race, i.e., the ones actually advancing us as a species, have built the necessities into our every day lives, allowing the rest of us to slack off, and forget how to endure hardship. Instead we worry about stupid shit, like the Oscars, or how our pro football team is playing, or why our favorite porn site is down, again. Even after you check the connection, and restart the computer. Now I have to use my imagination? What am I, in 6th grade? This is horse sh–

Sorry…I uh…I may have been projecting a little bit on that last one.

In other words, mankind has become so intelligent, that intelligence is no longer necessary for our survival. 

Guilty Pleasure

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If I had to admit to one guilty pleasure in life, it would be Train (the band, not actual trains). I never buy any of their music or go to their concerts, for fear of being found out; but if I find myself alone with “Hey, Soul Sister,” blasting, I will sing my pasty little heart out and I will dance, nay, frolic wherever I am. However, if I had to admit to another, it would probably be my general compulsion to make people feel stupid. Not exactly an admirable pursuit, I know…kinda fucked up really, but it seems to be a talent with which I was born.  Though these condescending urges may be part of my baser instincts, I try to focus them only on those who truly deserve it. Kind of like Dexter, but if instead of killing people, he went around being a sarcastic douche.

Being an improvisational art, most of my verbal assaults are brief in nature: correcting grammar, pointing out contradictions in logic, or asking rhetorical questions to highlight a character flaw. Here’s an easy one. When a co-worker complains about working I’ll ask, “Which part do you hate? The one where you volunteer your time in exchange for money, or the part where you have to listen to co-workers bitch all day?”  Now, the appropriate response would be “fuck off, Andy,” but not every one understands irony, and even fewer people take kindly to having their flaws pointed out. 

Sometimes I don’t even need to speak to make someone feel stupid. All it takes is a look; albeit, a look that I’ve been crafting since puberty. A quick, but slight, tilt of the head. A furrowing of the brow, and a shifting of the eyes, making it clear that I’m trying to make sense of whatever idiocy that has just been demonstrated. Here, it’s important to look in the individual’s general direction, but never directly at them.  If confrontation should ensue, you want them to seem like the aggressor. That way you can plead innocence, because once bystanders start catching on to your ruse, the game’s over. No one will take the bait if they know you’re being an asshole solely for it’s own sake.

You may be asking yourself, how does one decide who warrants such a passive aggressive form of retribution? By what metrics are they measured? And who am I to pass judgment? Well, I can’t say that I have a method of selection, or any real sense of order, but there isn’t exactly a system to being a prick. What I can say is that my victims tend to be comparable in character, displaying obnoxious behavioral patterns, yet showing extreme sensitivity to anyone who points them out. For example, there was a girl I worked with not long ago who was charming, and pretty, and as sweet as could be…the fuckin’ bitch. Not only was her whole personality a mask to cover her deep conceits and social manipulations, but she’s one of these people that never stops talking about herself. Ever. Needless to say, I cherished every opportunity to make her feel as low as that black hunk of garbage she calls a soul.

Granted, I don’t always have such brazen contempt for my targets. Sometimes I’m just bored. I’m bored of small talk; bored of pretending to care; bored of the all of the meaningless, solipsistic bullshit that people spew in order to make themselves feel important. I do realize the insensitivity of everything I just said, but sensitivity is overrated. The world is a vicious place, and if you can’t handle being mocked by someone as insignificant as me, then why even bother getting out of bed? You can feel free to call me any name you want: hypocrite, cynic, asshole. I’ll just smile and wave, because while I may be all of those things, I know who I am and I know where I stand. Do you?