Trip Points

I got issues. Funny, eh? Three words that set the tone. Some things are instant piss-me-off-no-matter-what-the-current-mood issues.

Broadcasting political votes. I was on some web site off the Blog Carnivals site. The post was something – forget now. But a few posts down he writes that he just voted in the local city council elections, and then proceeds to name for whom he voted. A friend of mine said once, when asked for whom he voted in a recent presidential election, “One of the beautiful things about America is that not only can we vote for our leaders, but we don’t have to tell anyone for whom we voted.” I thought the statement was elegant.

I think that people that broadcast their votes are idiots. Talk about issues all you want. Make your position on abortion or baby seals or rain forests known all you want. But to consider that some politician, who by definition sells their soul to the highest bidder, is actually an answer is incredibly naïve. They are as complex and contradictory and evolving as any other person. You work on a campaign and have sold your soul, too, then your opinion doesn’t matter.

Vote if you want to, but shut-up about it.

Stupid people that don’t know they are stupid. I cannot fathom these people. The layer that always comes with it – and it is this portion that trips me – is the arrogance. We all have limitations, physical or intellectual or spiritual or whatever. The trick in life is to know your limitations. I cannot deconstruct music. I can’t choose clothes that go together without picturing those garanimal tags. I can figure out a lot of stuff just in my mind, such as numbers, some physics, law. Other things I can conceptualize but cannot execute well until I do it and screw up – the second time is always better with household repairs, car repairs, etc. I get there; it’s just a matter of being patient with myself.

So then you get people who are convinced of their intellectual superiority. They have the world by the balls. Then they do something stupid, and other people are materially changed through their arrogance which is followed by lies. Then you talk to them to try to understand, and they sputter, and lie more. Then the arrogance comes into full bloom like a rancid flower next to a thick green pond. Then the fake supplication. Then the continued fake supplication – and words mean nothing, only actions. So watch carefully, and you see the continued stupidity. And what pisses me off (yes, I am referring to a very specific situation in my life right now) is the continued collateral damage of which the person is too stupid to see. Telling them is pointless. I work incredibly hard not to turn full barrel and leave behind a charred hole. Humorously, the cranially vacant one thinks I already have. It is to laugh ruefully.

Liars. I detest liars on every level. I never forgive (that’s not a problem, is it?) and always filter every subsequent transaction for decades through those putrid waters. Ironically, I act spitefully, lying, too. I dwell in the brackish waters. I never trust again. Never. If you lie to me, then they are no longer any rules. Yes, the foundational lie needs to be fundamental. But once that floor has been compromised, the hole created is as if a claw-foot tub dropped through it from an upper floor, followed by my specious carpentry skills. The hole is, at best, repaired with a jumble of boards, overlapping haphazardly with darkness appearing through the many gaps. One cannot walk past the hole without consciously avoiding the space or tripping over a jutted-out board; to walk on those same boards is folly for now and evermore. I gather information slowly and patiently for years if necessary. I suspect the worst in every transaction, particularly when older paths are tread again. It is, perhaps, a deep character flaw in me. It is, equally, something I will never devote even a micron of effort to resolve. Never lie to me. I will never forgive you. Not in the ensuing hours, days, or decades. Until the day I die, I will never believe you, and will always assume the very worst in you. Always and, as they say, in all ways. The seed of distrust spawns a seed of hate. Regardless of subsequent interactions, those seeds are cherished and nurtured by me. Always and in all ways. It will never change, and I will gladly die a lonely and miserable death to maintain my own variant of arrogance. It requires no effort on my part – that’s the humorous aspect. It simply is as it is, like a drawing with a crooked line: drawings are not changed, merely observed; I am not the artist, just the patron; the artist’s portfolio will always contain that drawing, whether they claim it to be destroyed or not – it was within them at one time, and will always reside as a part of their talent set. Always and in all ways.

Loudmouth anything. Guess what? Illegal aliens are here illegally. They have violated the law the same as a thief. People die in wars. When folks join the military, they do so knowing and accepting the risks in return for remuneration – be it cash in hand, educational benefits, or lifelong healthcare. They are in a war theatre because they offered to go there and were trained to be there. You support the military – as long as they are not doing what they are trained to do? An abortion is either murder or the cessation of the autonomous subdivision of a mass of cells. I have my opinions; you are encouraged to have yours. Mine are informed to the level that is comfortable for me; I hope yours are the same. Mine are not printed on a sign that is carried in public, nor screamed at passersby, nor is my body interfering with the stream of commerce to get my point heard. I do not need your sign, voice, or body telling what your opinion is. I just don’t care. I bailed on news reporting because all they cover are idiots like you. It may be just my concentric world, but I have observed a direct and negative-slope relationship between your {ahem} “forceful” presence and your intelligence. Just – shut – up, and keep your face out of my face, your body off the bridge I am crossing (unless you’re a jumper), and your poor grammar to your home-bound scribblings. Don’t even get me started on actors and actresses that have a proclivity to memorize words written by someone else and to delivery those words with a proper range of affect provided someone is off-camera telling them what to do and, based upon the sharing of copyright royalties, think that somehow they possess opinions worthy of educating the masses. The only reason that they are not complete assholes is because there are obviously a few missing pieces. And this includes rock musicians, too. You made your money in music. We never paid you to tell us what you thought. So now that you don’t need our money any more doesn’t give you the right to use the stage we paid for to voice your opinion. Get out the guitar and perform, monkey boy – the rest is of no interest and just makes you look stupid.

Liars. Did I mention liars? Lemme check … oh yes, I did. Well, double it.

Sportcasters. How many times can they misapply the word “brilliant”? Look, pal, these athletes practice a lot. What they do on the field is muscle memory, with the rare exception of some quarterbacks and pitchers – but even they are mostly muscles remembering previous motions. It is all trained auto-pilot. Brilliant? Ever hear them talk? You associate “brilliance” with that? They make rap stars sound like accountants. I love sports, so I ordinarily mute the telecast and listen to music or silence. The overwhelming majority of athletes would be in prison if they didn’t meet the “physical freak” criteria. Most retired guys sell insurance or cars. Brilliant? C’mon. Just shut up and call the plays as they happen. And the very worst thing these clowns do is point out “celebrities” in the audience. Just frigging shoot me.

The list can go on … gonna bail for now. Probably to be continued …