There are thousands — perhaps millions — of ways to piss me off, and the few examples that I’ve provided here in the past are just a miniscule representation of everything that does. I have no patience for stupidity, bigotry, homophobia, racism, sexism, ageism, and a whole host of other “isms” that I won’t even begin to list here. (And please, don’t ask me if I can tolerate “j-ism”, because just by mentioning it here, I already beat you to the hilarity punch [which is spiked, by the way].)
I touched on this in an entry several months ago (yes, I am again referring you to one of my pre-Movable Type entries, in case you haven’t done yourself the grand favor of reading through my archives) in “Fuckin’ Jewboy” (which I also linked to on June 14). And as I stated there, and now here, and everywhere, I don’t give a fuck, flying or otherwise, what you are or who you are or why or how or when you are. All I care about is if you’re a good person or not, “deep down” where it really counts. Are you kind to animals? Are you considerate of other people? Do you treat the planet as if it were a precious, live entity rather than an enormous, overflowing ashtray? Have you brushed your teeth?
I like to “poke fun” at other people’s stupidity (and even my own) as much as anyone else. In fact, I may enjoy it more than most people do. But what I do not enjoy, and what I will not tolerate, is when the target of ridicule or censure is someone who cannot help his situation. For instance, I will never make fun of “little people” or join in the raucous laughter that is sure to result from a hilarious night of “midget bowling”. If someone’s “defect” is something that he can change (such as mossy green teeth or ragged, bitten cuticles), then of course he’s fair game.
However, if you really want to piss me off, all you have to do is one simple thing. Tell me that LIFE SUCKS. And then go kill yourself. Or at least run away from me, really fast, because you won’t want me to kick you in the place where your balls should be.
I’ve found that the people who say “life sucks” are usually whining about something they can change. “I’m fat.” “No one likes me.” “I don’t have any friends.” Please. One of the dearest people in my life is someone who, years ago, was a drag-down, falling-in-the-street alcoholic. He swilled vodka for breakfast, with a side dish of cigarettes. But did he whine about his situation and drown in a puddle of his own tears? No. One morning he woke up, basically said, “This shit’s gotta stop,” and swore off the bullshit. Went “cold turkey”. And hasn’t had a drop to drink or a cigarette since. That was at least 15 years ago. What’s more, he did it on his own, without the prodding of anyone but himself and without a “support group”. He is truly a remarkable man.
This morning, I saw another remarkable man on TV named Mark. Mark’s face was ravaged two years ago by a viral infection and fungus that essentially left him without a face from the upper lip to just above his eyebrows. There is a hole in his head — a literal hole in his head — where his face should be. His face looks like an apple with a huge bite taken out of its center. Surgeons gouged out his eyes and nose, all the way back to the lining of his brain, so he would have a chance to live. In addition, he suffered several mini-strokes. But not once, he said, did he ever want to die. So he could live with his incredibly devoted wife, his two sons, and his granddaughter. As he said, “I had to survive, and I was going to survive.”
Now, I ordinarily loathe “inspirational” stories, and regard most of it as maudlin manipulation. Sappy sentimentality. I can’t stand being told that I should stop dwelling on my own stupid problems just because someone else has bigger, worse problems than mine. But I have to say that this guy, and his wife, Nancy, set an example that everyone would be well-advised to follow.
The next time someone whines that “Life sucks”, I’m going to take my fist and shove it in that person’s face so he can be reminded that there is someone out there who could be whining that his life sucks but instead is choosing to not just survive, but to live. And not just live — but love and laugh as well.
So if you want to piss me off, tell me life sucks. Tell me you can’t change your lot. Wallow in self-pity.
And then run like hell. Because I’m really fast.