Register Monday | June 18 | 2018

(Im)polite Society

Remember when you were a kid, and one of your parents would tell you, “Don’t worry, you’ll understand someday?” Of course, this usually followed some event completely outside the realm of your understanding. Like your dog just died. Or your best friend had to move away. Or your favorite teacher just got fired. It usually came after your parent had exhausted every dark alley of explanation they could find, not managing to fool the intractable logic that only a kid possess. They’d sigh, exasperated, and they’d say “Don’t worry, you’ll understand ”

And what they meant by that was, Don’t worry, it’ll suck ass for no apparent reason for you, too. And you’ll just have to deal with it, because this shit can make absolutely no sense; leave you, at times, absolutely nowhere. Some days, some moments, at some point, you’re just going to be beaten, badly. And you won’t even know you were playing. You’ll be beaten like you stole something from someone who saw you do it and whooped your ass for it. And it sucks.

I don’t really buy into that philosophy, and by that I mean the whole, “you’ll understand someday” slogan. That seems like such a victimized philosophy. “You’ll understand,” or rather, “Don’t worry, child, you’ll grow to accept your own powerlessness and vulnerability. You’ll see that bad things happen to good people, and it’s even worse when that good person is you.”

But it is true. Sometimes the day is a wash from the moment your alarm goes off. Like today. It’s just one of those days, piss and spit and shit.

One you’d rather not read the front page of the newspaper, or lose faith. It’s advisable to not interact with people, because it’s one of those days I find everyone stupid and insufferable. One of those days I could roll my eyes, turn any argument against itself, tick down to zero at the slightest inconvenience. Like someone coming to a sudden halt in front of me on the sidewalk.

I’d love to fire everyone. No real reason, no burden of proof needed. “Jarret, I had a quick question about this story, do you have a second?” “Fuck off, no, you’re fired, get out.” Or a day where you hold on to not say the things that could get you fired.

Do you want to know what the greatest all purpose comeback of all time is? It works for anything, under any circumstances, with any inflection, and offers the other person absolutely zero retort options.

Blow me. It’s the greatest comeback ever, fits any snap or perceived offense. And, if you’re really pissed off, it can halt any and all further conversation in 0.6 seconds flat. Try it out today. Say it jovially to a friend, or with a hint of malice to someone who just sauntered over a line.

Some days you really should be able to pick some slightly annoying person on the street and just pop them. They say random violence doesn’t solve anything, but they’re wrong. It doesn’t solve a thing for the majority who witness the act, or for the person who’s now on the ground with a bloody nose. But it can be an all purpose cure all for the pent up.

Do you want to know the biggest reason I think politics is a sham? Rhetorical question, I’m telling you anyway. Because at some point when someone has been rattling away at your character, assaulting your name, twisting your words, impinging your name, demeaning everything you stand for and any contribution you might try to make, because after a prolonged period, if politics were really real, you’d snap. Because you could reasonably only hear someone shit on you so many times before you take them out back and lay into them. And here’s the thing, were Bush to take Kerry behind the barn for a once over, were Kerry to cheap shot Bush at the start of the first debate, break his nose, in a reasonable society no one would blame either one. With the total tonnage of sewage they’ve spewed at each other, unless we all understood with a wink and a nod that this was all, somehow, a bullshit act that’s part of a game they take seriously, but maybe not personally, it’s hard to not see how they don’t just step down one level in discourse. That’d be an amazing way to settle this election. 12 rounds.

You’d at least expect one of them to get a question from a reporter repeating a particularly biting barb from the other candidate and have one of them say, “What’s my response? Tell him I said to shut the fuck up, that’s my response.”

You just look around once in a while and think, I can’t reasonably want to bring a kid into this, can I? 

Every now and then, not often, but not infrequently either, my motto for the day is “Fuck Everyone.” That simple. Fuck Everyone. It’s an Eminem day.

And today’s one of them. And I have no explanation for it. It just started out that way.