Thursday, August 4, 2011
Satisfaction is the Death of Desire ©Hatebreed
The only people I ever meet who are satisfied with their life at the present time are really old people and really big losers. Feel free to quote me on that!
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
The End is Nigh...Again
I saw online yesterday that there is a lake in Texas that turned blood red and is filled with dead fish. In this same article I read how some groups (read: most Wal-Mart patrons) feel that this is a sign of the "End Times". Here we go again...
Bloody lake in Texas aside, how many times in just your own life have you heard or read about some group of religious zealots claiming that Event X is a sign of the end times? The fact that you're even able to ramble through the times you've heard this in your head should be enough to send you into a hysterical laughing fit complete with tears and yelps of hilarity. At least 3 or 4 times a year some dick, some putz, some yo-yo (©George Carlin) comes out and tells us to stock up on Bibles and meth because the end is nigh...and then we all wake up the next day. You'd think at this point even the mindless flock who follow these jackasses would say enough is enough.
First let's deal with the psychosis that would make one think that he/she can predict something like the end of the world. Where does one get an education on Apocalypse prediction? Is there a certification process? Can you study it in a lab? Where does this magical ability come from? If I woke tomorrow and told you I could predict the winner of the Super Bowl in 2037 you'd call me a rambling nut job because there is absolutely no way to tell what the NFL is going to look like 26 years from now. If we can agree that predicting the winner of a trivial football competition years into the future is a hideously dumb idea, why can't some people apply that same logic to something as important as THE END OF ALL LIFE ON THE FUCKING PLANET?!
The best part about the end times mongoloids are the actual explanations they provide that usually involve some combination of "scientific" research, astonishingly self-serving Biblical interpretation, divine communication, and lack of contact with intelligent life forms. They provide no proof, just examples of natural catastrophes in a short period of time and psychobabble. Somehow these people are given air-time on supposedly serious programs to discuss something that a 10 year old can see is the biggest bullshit since OJ Simpson and the "real killers". The picture of a deranged pastor from a 20 member congregation somewhere in the rural cesspools of America is the image I get whenever I hear about these "predictions" and rarely have I been proven wrong. That isn't to say that this is an accurate depiction of rural America as a whole, just the psychotic parts (let's call it 70-85%).
I can't forget the people who follow these "prophets". There must be a specific genetic mutation that prohibits the followers from making rational, logic-based decisions. There is no other way to look at it. Why else would you take on the utterly loony (let alone blasphemous) notion that some guy who can't predict the next time he has to go pee can tell you when the world will end? I understand the need to believe in a higher power, but that is no excuse for following every snake oil sales man who comes along shouting Bible verse and claiming that God speaks to him. If this is seriously all it takes for people to follow your commands and fork over large sums of money to you, then I need to brush up on my Corinthians.
It is more than reasonable to assume the Earth will be here long after man is gone. This relatively small blue-green orb will continue to revolve around a bright gaseous bulb just like has done for billions of years. We are no more important to the Earth than the dinosaurs were; and when she's done with us she'll shake us off and keep on rollin'. That isn't a prediction, that is a fact. To all of these psychotic end times believers I have a proposition: How about you stop prognosticating about when the world will end and give me a date on when you'll stop selling your idiocy to anyone who will listen? That is a question I'd much rather have you attempt to answer.
Bloody lake in Texas aside, how many times in just your own life have you heard or read about some group of religious zealots claiming that Event X is a sign of the end times? The fact that you're even able to ramble through the times you've heard this in your head should be enough to send you into a hysterical laughing fit complete with tears and yelps of hilarity. At least 3 or 4 times a year some dick, some putz, some yo-yo (©George Carlin) comes out and tells us to stock up on Bibles and meth because the end is nigh...and then we all wake up the next day. You'd think at this point even the mindless flock who follow these jackasses would say enough is enough.
First let's deal with the psychosis that would make one think that he/she can predict something like the end of the world. Where does one get an education on Apocalypse prediction? Is there a certification process? Can you study it in a lab? Where does this magical ability come from? If I woke tomorrow and told you I could predict the winner of the Super Bowl in 2037 you'd call me a rambling nut job because there is absolutely no way to tell what the NFL is going to look like 26 years from now. If we can agree that predicting the winner of a trivial football competition years into the future is a hideously dumb idea, why can't some people apply that same logic to something as important as THE END OF ALL LIFE ON THE FUCKING PLANET?!
The best part about the end times mongoloids are the actual explanations they provide that usually involve some combination of "scientific" research, astonishingly self-serving Biblical interpretation, divine communication, and lack of contact with intelligent life forms. They provide no proof, just examples of natural catastrophes in a short period of time and psychobabble. Somehow these people are given air-time on supposedly serious programs to discuss something that a 10 year old can see is the biggest bullshit since OJ Simpson and the "real killers". The picture of a deranged pastor from a 20 member congregation somewhere in the rural cesspools of America is the image I get whenever I hear about these "predictions" and rarely have I been proven wrong. That isn't to say that this is an accurate depiction of rural America as a whole, just the psychotic parts (let's call it 70-85%).
I can't forget the people who follow these "prophets". There must be a specific genetic mutation that prohibits the followers from making rational, logic-based decisions. There is no other way to look at it. Why else would you take on the utterly loony (let alone blasphemous) notion that some guy who can't predict the next time he has to go pee can tell you when the world will end? I understand the need to believe in a higher power, but that is no excuse for following every snake oil sales man who comes along shouting Bible verse and claiming that God speaks to him. If this is seriously all it takes for people to follow your commands and fork over large sums of money to you, then I need to brush up on my Corinthians.
It is more than reasonable to assume the Earth will be here long after man is gone. This relatively small blue-green orb will continue to revolve around a bright gaseous bulb just like has done for billions of years. We are no more important to the Earth than the dinosaurs were; and when she's done with us she'll shake us off and keep on rollin'. That isn't a prediction, that is a fact. To all of these psychotic end times believers I have a proposition: How about you stop prognosticating about when the world will end and give me a date on when you'll stop selling your idiocy to anyone who will listen? That is a question I'd much rather have you attempt to answer.
Monday, August 1, 2011
You're Into Depression Because It Matches Your Eyes
Depression is not a subject that I take lightly so, rest assured, that this is not something directed to those among us who actually carry this black cloud draped over their being on a daily basis; those people for whom our every day existence is just an all-consuming tunnel of blackened sorrow. This, my friends, is for the attention-whores who use depression (or their self-absorbed idea of depression) as an excuse. A bitch, whiny, poorly-acted excuse to slump through life while never actually doing anything to change the circumstances surrounding them.
When I was in my late teens, I went through what I genuinely thought was a long bout of depression (see 1996-1999). I wanted things that I didn't have, I felt like I was being beaten down by the harsh realities of life, and I debated over whether life was worth living at all. What I later realized was that I was just being a selfish young asshole. My depression was born out my teenage narcissism and a belief that I was entitled to what ever I wanted. When I didn't get the things I wanted out of life (usually following some half-hearted effort that I told myself was the best I could do) I would fall into a "depression" state or what normal people would refer to as pouting like a little bitch. Once I realized that there were people with bigger problems than not having a car at 17 or feeling sorry for myself for being poor, I quickly got my act together and moved on with my life.
Nowadays whenever someone blurts out how depressed they are in the middle of a conversation I know that very moment is when I should cease to pay attention to them. People who are really depressed don't go around talking about how depressed they are all the time. What that person is really saying is "Life is much more exciting when it's all about me". They are looking for your sympathy, so you can tell them how person X is an asshole or how they deserve something solely because they really want it. The actually depressed don't do this at all. They don't want to talk about their depression; they hide it as best they can and feel sentenced to suffer in silence because they believe no one cares about them enough to hear their cries. It takes a Herculean effort for an actually depressed person to come to grips with their situation and actively seek out help. Essentially, the attention-whores set themselves apart by being attention-whores.
The faux depressed have been shoved in our face more and more since the grunge era where the music of bands like Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and (not grunge at all, but fit the bill) The Smashing Pumpkins was latched onto by needy suburban teens looking for a reason to feel special. That era begat the Nü-Metal era where bands like Papa Roach, Linkin Park, Korn, and the like passed off their whine-fest as aggression toward some undefined source so that they can feel special (and about as metal as daisies). Our television shows are filled with the image of people who can't get out of bed or sulk away in seclusion over their latest break up or being passed over for a job. All essentially media-approved, inaccurate depictions of depression that have done nothing, but make light of a serious condition that literally kills people every day and make it seem cool to be depressed because it somehow authenticates your existence.
Depression isn't a cold that lasts two weeks. Depression is a black cloud that hangs over the heads of thousands of people every day who struggle to find a reason to live. You don't get to use depression to explain away your reasons for being a jackass, or not getting off the couch, or eating two cartons of Häägen-Dazs in one sitting. Let's all get over ourselves and keep the pity parties to a minimum.
When I was in my late teens, I went through what I genuinely thought was a long bout of depression (see 1996-1999). I wanted things that I didn't have, I felt like I was being beaten down by the harsh realities of life, and I debated over whether life was worth living at all. What I later realized was that I was just being a selfish young asshole. My depression was born out my teenage narcissism and a belief that I was entitled to what ever I wanted. When I didn't get the things I wanted out of life (usually following some half-hearted effort that I told myself was the best I could do) I would fall into a "depression" state or what normal people would refer to as pouting like a little bitch. Once I realized that there were people with bigger problems than not having a car at 17 or feeling sorry for myself for being poor, I quickly got my act together and moved on with my life.
Nowadays whenever someone blurts out how depressed they are in the middle of a conversation I know that very moment is when I should cease to pay attention to them. People who are really depressed don't go around talking about how depressed they are all the time. What that person is really saying is "Life is much more exciting when it's all about me". They are looking for your sympathy, so you can tell them how person X is an asshole or how they deserve something solely because they really want it. The actually depressed don't do this at all. They don't want to talk about their depression; they hide it as best they can and feel sentenced to suffer in silence because they believe no one cares about them enough to hear their cries. It takes a Herculean effort for an actually depressed person to come to grips with their situation and actively seek out help. Essentially, the attention-whores set themselves apart by being attention-whores.
The faux depressed have been shoved in our face more and more since the grunge era where the music of bands like Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and (not grunge at all, but fit the bill) The Smashing Pumpkins was latched onto by needy suburban teens looking for a reason to feel special. That era begat the Nü-Metal era where bands like Papa Roach, Linkin Park, Korn, and the like passed off their whine-fest as aggression toward some undefined source so that they can feel special (and about as metal as daisies). Our television shows are filled with the image of people who can't get out of bed or sulk away in seclusion over their latest break up or being passed over for a job. All essentially media-approved, inaccurate depictions of depression that have done nothing, but make light of a serious condition that literally kills people every day and make it seem cool to be depressed because it somehow authenticates your existence.
Depression isn't a cold that lasts two weeks. Depression is a black cloud that hangs over the heads of thousands of people every day who struggle to find a reason to live. You don't get to use depression to explain away your reasons for being a jackass, or not getting off the couch, or eating two cartons of Häägen-Dazs in one sitting. Let's all get over ourselves and keep the pity parties to a minimum.
Friday, July 29, 2011
The Assassination of Common Sense Pt. 7
For those of you who are regular readers of this little piece of heaven called 'Preserved Disorder' (all 2 of you), I don't have to go into how this works. For those of you who are just popping your cherry with this blog I will provide a brief explanation. This won't be a typical blog that focuses on one topic. This is more in the vein of George Carlin's "Fee-Floating Hostility" bit. I'll instead focus on the general idiocy that we all encounter daily as an attempt to point out areas of modernity where common sense has not only failed, it was been shot in the face and tossed into a watery grave. Got the premise? Here we go....
It's Just Easier
This phrase has become the banner slogan for American sloth and lack of self-respect. Whenever I encounter someone who is making a stupid life decision and press them as to why they don't just make the obviously smarter decision, the person replies with "I dunno, It's just easier". For example, here is an actual conversation I overheard while at the grocery store yesterday:
Brainless Idiot: "I really hate going to Amanda's when Chris is over there. He is just such an asshole all the time."
Actual Human Being: "Well, why don't you just tell her you're not going to come over when he's there because you don't get along with him?"
BI: "Cuz then she gets all worried that I don't like Chris and starts asking me like a thousand questions about why I don't like him. It's just easier to go and deal with it for a little while, ya know?"
And this is easier how? The only person this seems easier for is Amanda and unless she's saved you from a burning building (completely plausible) then why is it easier for you to suffer than for her to deal with her asshole boyfriend on her own? It's also easier to just let someone murder you and not attempt to fight back, but you don't see people jumping on board for this idea, do you?
"It's just easier" has become a valid, reasonable solution to problems in cases where smart or reasonably intelligent people just don't give a damn enough to give a damn.
Suburban Talladega
When did driving on regular city streets become the qualifying race for the Indy 500? Ever day I'm almost killed by some fuckwit who thinks that he's Rusty Wallace in a Chevy Aveo doing 60 in a 40 during rush hour traffic. I really want tobludgeon with a spiked bat ask these people exactly what the rush is. Do you think the rest of us want to sit in bumper to bumper traffic all day? Because let me tell you I personally love it when it takes me 35 to 45 minutes to get home when I live 15 minutes away from my job. It really is the best part of my day you fucking mongoloid prick!
I'm sure you've had this happen to you before: You're driving (at the customary 10-15 mph over the speed limit, of course)when you spot a driver waiting to pull out of a parking lot/alley/cavernous vagina directly ahead of you. The driver of said vehicle is starring directly at your car as you approach him/her and they have plenty of time to pull out onto the road before you get close...but they don't. They just sit and stare at you until you're 10 feet away and then frantically pull out in front of you causing you to curse their father's polluted semen and slam on your breaks so as to not kill everyone involved. Every time that happens to me, I want to throw a Molotov cocktail through their windshield.
We hear about fatal car accidents on an almost daily basis in the news so it baffles me as to why people are so willing to take a chance with their lives in this circumstances. We've all heard the cliché about how you're more likely to die in a car crash than you are a plane crash, but why is that logic only applied to instances where people are about to fly and never to driving? Why is the douche nozzle in the Volvo behind me riding my ass like I have control over the speed of the 2,000 people in front of me who are also NOT GOING ANYWHERE! He must be special or something.
Hipsters
Hipsterism, which is an actual fucking term, is the layup drill of common sense. It is the actual definition of the phrase "low-hanging fruit". Why, oh, why would anyone of sound reasoning latch on to this shit sandwich of a sub-culture (which is way too mainstream to be a sub-culture)? Every time I see someone with a sweatband on their head and wearing a "vintage" purple t-shirt, dark brown cargo shorts, tube socks, and Chuck Taylor's I want to cry bloody tears.
The thing that annoys me the most about hipsterism is the feigned exuberance for all things cheesy and bad. It's like they actually want you to hit them in the face with a flaming brick. Old Atari games? Check. Excruciatingly bad music? Check. Irony as life's condiment? Check. There is no authenticity, no purpose, and no common sense to this "sub-culture". These are the same people who were listening to Dave Matthews and wearing Birkenstocks a few years ago, but now they want you to believe they are way too cool to care.
In a "sub-culture" where the whole point is to avoid being defined by a label, why is it so easy to walk into a room and spot the three hipsters without so much as a second glance? Because this culture is bullshit. A bastardized amalgamation of awkward and fun turned into a too brutal to watch train wreck of forced ambivalence and manufactured coolness that looks almost as pointless as it actually is. Fuck off.
It's Just Easier
This phrase has become the banner slogan for American sloth and lack of self-respect. Whenever I encounter someone who is making a stupid life decision and press them as to why they don't just make the obviously smarter decision, the person replies with "I dunno, It's just easier". For example, here is an actual conversation I overheard while at the grocery store yesterday:
Brainless Idiot: "I really hate going to Amanda's when Chris is over there. He is just such an asshole all the time."
Actual Human Being: "Well, why don't you just tell her you're not going to come over when he's there because you don't get along with him?"
BI: "Cuz then she gets all worried that I don't like Chris and starts asking me like a thousand questions about why I don't like him. It's just easier to go and deal with it for a little while, ya know?"
And this is easier how? The only person this seems easier for is Amanda and unless she's saved you from a burning building (completely plausible) then why is it easier for you to suffer than for her to deal with her asshole boyfriend on her own? It's also easier to just let someone murder you and not attempt to fight back, but you don't see people jumping on board for this idea, do you?
"It's just easier" has become a valid, reasonable solution to problems in cases where smart or reasonably intelligent people just don't give a damn enough to give a damn.
Suburban Talladega
When did driving on regular city streets become the qualifying race for the Indy 500? Ever day I'm almost killed by some fuckwit who thinks that he's Rusty Wallace in a Chevy Aveo doing 60 in a 40 during rush hour traffic. I really want to
I'm sure you've had this happen to you before: You're driving (at the customary 10-15 mph over the speed limit, of course)when you spot a driver waiting to pull out of a parking lot/alley/cavernous vagina directly ahead of you. The driver of said vehicle is starring directly at your car as you approach him/her and they have plenty of time to pull out onto the road before you get close...but they don't. They just sit and stare at you until you're 10 feet away and then frantically pull out in front of you causing you to curse their father's polluted semen and slam on your breaks so as to not kill everyone involved. Every time that happens to me, I want to throw a Molotov cocktail through their windshield.
We hear about fatal car accidents on an almost daily basis in the news so it baffles me as to why people are so willing to take a chance with their lives in this circumstances. We've all heard the cliché about how you're more likely to die in a car crash than you are a plane crash, but why is that logic only applied to instances where people are about to fly and never to driving? Why is the douche nozzle in the Volvo behind me riding my ass like I have control over the speed of the 2,000 people in front of me who are also NOT GOING ANYWHERE! He must be special or something.
Hipsters
Hipsterism, which is an actual fucking term, is the layup drill of common sense. It is the actual definition of the phrase "low-hanging fruit". Why, oh, why would anyone of sound reasoning latch on to this shit sandwich of a sub-culture (which is way too mainstream to be a sub-culture)? Every time I see someone with a sweatband on their head and wearing a "vintage" purple t-shirt, dark brown cargo shorts, tube socks, and Chuck Taylor's I want to cry bloody tears.
The thing that annoys me the most about hipsterism is the feigned exuberance for all things cheesy and bad. It's like they actually want you to hit them in the face with a flaming brick. Old Atari games? Check. Excruciatingly bad music? Check. Irony as life's condiment? Check. There is no authenticity, no purpose, and no common sense to this "sub-culture". These are the same people who were listening to Dave Matthews and wearing Birkenstocks a few years ago, but now they want you to believe they are way too cool to care.
In a "sub-culture" where the whole point is to avoid being defined by a label, why is it so easy to walk into a room and spot the three hipsters without so much as a second glance? Because this culture is bullshit. A bastardized amalgamation of awkward and fun turned into a too brutal to watch train wreck of forced ambivalence and manufactured coolness that looks almost as pointless as it actually is. Fuck off.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Oh, My God! You Don't Like Yellawolf?!
Try this little excercise: walk over to the person nearest you and ask them what kind of music they listen to. If they say something like "Oh, I listen to everything" or "I like a mix of different things" I want you to bow down and worship at the altar of my genius. One of those two responses is the answer you'll get from 90% (totally valid and heavily researched percentage by the way)of people when you ask that question. I'll even go so far as to say that 100% of those people are lying directly to your face. No one listens to "everything". Find me someone who has pop, rap, bluegrass, zydeco, acid jazz, Gregorian chant, blues, classical, afro-punk, funk,soul,techno, 70's rock,country, and shoegaze on their iPod and I'll show you a avocado made from oranges.
Most people like one or two types of music and a couple of additional artists that are mainstream forms of various musical styles. For instance if you love Christina Aguilera, Kanye West, and Linkin Park you like one type of music: pop. Just because those three artists present their pop in different formats doesn't change what it is. If you also happen to like Miranda Lambert, that doesn't make you a country music fan that makes you a Miranda Lambert fan.
Think about this: When did the term Indy rock become the definition of a musical sound and not music that was written, recorded, and distributed on a shoe-string budget by a tiny record label with no connection to the big music labels? Answer: the minute record execs discovered that some people will go out of their way to listen to obscure, poorly-played music just so they can feel unique. Speaking of unique, where did this idea come from that just because an artist doesn't sound like anyone else makes them exceptional musicians? I don't care if you're fusing afrobeat and delta blues with crust punk if it sounds like you're playing three styles of music poorly at the same time. Then there is Lady Gaga different or as I call it marketing different. Here is a woman who sounds EXACTLY like 80's Madonna with a splash of R&B, but somehow gets lauded as being the most original artist since the dawn of man because she wears odd outfits. But I digress...
Who cares, right? Why does it matter if someone is into one specific style of music or 36? It matters because it is indicative of the state of the American psyche. Everyone wants to fit in despite all of the stories we've been told of this country being the one place in the world where you're free to be an individual. No one is going to come to your home and arrest you for banging out to some Blut Aus Nord if you so choose, but the social consequences can be interesting. I often get curious glances when I tell someone that I listen to a lot of hip hop and also a lot of metal (death, black, sludge, and doom being my favorite styles). People often assume they can tell what kind of person I am solely by my musical choices. That is the very reason why everyone you meet tells you they listen to "everything"; they are afraid of being reduced to a single line definition of their existence (this happens a lot more with clothing, but that is a different post altogether).
There are people out there who do listen to a wide variety of music. Some people can go from Celine Dion to Aesop Rock to Brooks & Dunn to Agalloch and not think anything of it. I'm not one of those people and, most likely, neither are you. Our fear of being judged for saying anything out of the ordinary, even about something as trivial as music choices, goes further than most people would like to consider. The same mentality that got the American public to at one time support a war against a country with no connection to 9/11 (remember 2003? It wasn't that long ago...) in two terms as president likely comes frome the same place that makes you think people listen to Arcade Fire solely because they like the music.
Most people like one or two types of music and a couple of additional artists that are mainstream forms of various musical styles. For instance if you love Christina Aguilera, Kanye West, and Linkin Park you like one type of music: pop. Just because those three artists present their pop in different formats doesn't change what it is. If you also happen to like Miranda Lambert, that doesn't make you a country music fan that makes you a Miranda Lambert fan.
Think about this: When did the term Indy rock become the definition of a musical sound and not music that was written, recorded, and distributed on a shoe-string budget by a tiny record label with no connection to the big music labels? Answer: the minute record execs discovered that some people will go out of their way to listen to obscure, poorly-played music just so they can feel unique. Speaking of unique, where did this idea come from that just because an artist doesn't sound like anyone else makes them exceptional musicians? I don't care if you're fusing afrobeat and delta blues with crust punk if it sounds like you're playing three styles of music poorly at the same time. Then there is Lady Gaga different or as I call it marketing different. Here is a woman who sounds EXACTLY like 80's Madonna with a splash of R&B, but somehow gets lauded as being the most original artist since the dawn of man because she wears odd outfits. But I digress...
Who cares, right? Why does it matter if someone is into one specific style of music or 36? It matters because it is indicative of the state of the American psyche. Everyone wants to fit in despite all of the stories we've been told of this country being the one place in the world where you're free to be an individual. No one is going to come to your home and arrest you for banging out to some Blut Aus Nord if you so choose, but the social consequences can be interesting. I often get curious glances when I tell someone that I listen to a lot of hip hop and also a lot of metal (death, black, sludge, and doom being my favorite styles). People often assume they can tell what kind of person I am solely by my musical choices. That is the very reason why everyone you meet tells you they listen to "everything"; they are afraid of being reduced to a single line definition of their existence (this happens a lot more with clothing, but that is a different post altogether).
There are people out there who do listen to a wide variety of music. Some people can go from Celine Dion to Aesop Rock to Brooks & Dunn to Agalloch and not think anything of it. I'm not one of those people and, most likely, neither are you. Our fear of being judged for saying anything out of the ordinary, even about something as trivial as music choices, goes further than most people would like to consider. The same mentality that got the American public to at one time support a war against a country with no connection to 9/11 (remember 2003? It wasn't that long ago...) in two terms as president likely comes frome the same place that makes you think people listen to Arcade Fire solely because they like the music.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Not Today Man, It's Monday
I don't have to go on a rant about how Monday mornings are the worst thing since Hitler's birth because you are probably living a Monday morning hell as we speak. I will talk about something that makes the worst day of the week exponentially worse: "The how was your weekend?" questions. I'm not just talking about that one specific question, but the long list of questions people around your cubicle concentration camp let slide out of there mouths with mindless abandon. A guy knows you're a big Dodgers fan? Expect him to mention the Dodgers every time you see his slack-jawed face. That really annoying chick in Marketing? She's going to ask you how your wife/girlfriend/booty call is doing every time she sees you because she saw the two of you in a restaurant together 9 months ago. Everyone is going to put their most chipper, chatty foot forward on this lovely morning and it makes me want to slowly push them into traffic. You don't have to say anything...I know you agree with me.
Don't get me wrong, I don't look down on people for trying to be convivial with the other schmucks they have to stomach for at least 40 grueling hours a week when none of us really want to be here. I get that, I really do. What I don't get is the forced nature of these interactions. For instance, you know the guy who always seems to be walking out of the bathroom/kitchen/building whenever you're going in? How many times a day do the two of you have to pretend to genuinely enjoy awkward head nod hellos? Once? Every time you see him? What is the statute of limitations on disingenuous greetings? Even worse, Have you ever had someone actually respond to the how's it going?/How was your weekend? question by actually stopping to tell you how they are doing? JESUS H. GODDAMMED CHRIST! Are you shitting me? I actually have to stand here and here you ramble about your kid's ear infection while holding this "Aw, that is so sad face"? Shoot me...shoot me in the eye right now!!
Monday is the one day every week that people should be able to be as honest as they want to be. I don't mean the bullshit excuse people use to be assholes known as "brutal honesty", I'm talking about real honesty. The "I'm going to walk directly past you and not say hi because both of us are miserable and don't want to be here" honesty. We can chit chat about the weather, your favorite hot dog place, or the amazing cinematic efforts of the (shitty) movie you just saw on Friday...the only appropriate day of the week to be happy for no reason.
I know some people feel it makes them a good person to smile and say hello to everyone. I'm not one of those people. I think anyone who can give you the reasons as to why they think they are a good person is an assbag. Being a good person isn't some set of preordained actions that you have to master and acquire an appropriate score on; nowhere in the Bible/Koran/Torah/Penthouse magazine does it say fake smiles and manufactured politeness is the key to spiritual awakening and eternal salvation. There is nothing inherently bad about small talk, but it's Monday so please in the name of all that is holy leave me the fuck alone. Thanks and have a great day!
Don't get me wrong, I don't look down on people for trying to be convivial with the other schmucks they have to stomach for at least 40 grueling hours a week when none of us really want to be here. I get that, I really do. What I don't get is the forced nature of these interactions. For instance, you know the guy who always seems to be walking out of the bathroom/kitchen/building whenever you're going in? How many times a day do the two of you have to pretend to genuinely enjoy awkward head nod hellos? Once? Every time you see him? What is the statute of limitations on disingenuous greetings? Even worse, Have you ever had someone actually respond to the how's it going?/How was your weekend? question by actually stopping to tell you how they are doing? JESUS H. GODDAMMED CHRIST! Are you shitting me? I actually have to stand here and here you ramble about your kid's ear infection while holding this "Aw, that is so sad face"? Shoot me...shoot me in the eye right now!!
Monday is the one day every week that people should be able to be as honest as they want to be. I don't mean the bullshit excuse people use to be assholes known as "brutal honesty", I'm talking about real honesty. The "I'm going to walk directly past you and not say hi because both of us are miserable and don't want to be here" honesty. We can chit chat about the weather, your favorite hot dog place, or the amazing cinematic efforts of the (shitty) movie you just saw on Friday...the only appropriate day of the week to be happy for no reason.
I know some people feel it makes them a good person to smile and say hello to everyone. I'm not one of those people. I think anyone who can give you the reasons as to why they think they are a good person is an assbag. Being a good person isn't some set of preordained actions that you have to master and acquire an appropriate score on; nowhere in the Bible/Koran/Torah/Penthouse magazine does it say fake smiles and manufactured politeness is the key to spiritual awakening and eternal salvation. There is nothing inherently bad about small talk, but it's Monday so please in the name of all that is holy leave me the fuck alone. Thanks and have a great day!
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