We love rights. I love rights. Rights are wonderful. They let me do the stuff I like to do, like say what I want, look how I want, love who I want, and be who I want to be. They're pretty great. I mean, really. They are. Aren't they? Do you know what the best thing about them is? It's that no one can infringe on your rights with impunity. Pretty cool, yeah?
Yeah, I thought so. But what are rights? People misuse the word quite a bit. It has turned into a word that doesn't mean anything, but still carries the weight of something that does. We packed this word to the brim so full of bullshit that we think that it still has substance the way we use it.
Nowadays, whenever we seem to want something we don't have, we automatically shout "I HAVE THE RIGHT TO --" No. No, you don't have the right to that.
Let's look at a few.
"I have the right to be treated with respect."
Oh? Do you? Well, uh...let's take a gander at the handy-dandy Constitution (That is assuming that you live in the United States). Hmmm...perfect union...tranquility...voting...nope. Can't find right. I guess the publishers just didn't think that it'd be as interesting of a read with it in there. Or it's because you actually don't have the right to that, and were never meant to have that right. Why? Because the constitution does grant people the right to free speech, and that includes calling you a whole gang of disrespectful things. I'll fill you in on a tiny secret. Other people's rights are more important than your feelings, you prick.
"I have the --" No you don't. I'll just stop you right there because you don't. Otherwise you wouldn't be shouting it out loud.
Then there's rights you don't have that you probably should. The right to decide what you do to your own body? Yeah, sounds good to me. But no. Not everyone has this right. Still, though. People shout at the top of their lungs that we "have the right" to do these things. Well, you don't and that's exactly the sort of thinking that will get you nowhere.
This sort of phrasing makes the argument sound completely different.
It all begins with understanding where your rights really do come from. Where is that? do they come out your ass (cheap shot, I know)? No. Do you get them from Santa? Do you find rights on the shelves at the fine retailers near you? No, you don't. You know this perfectly well, that's why you protest your government for your rights. But when it comes down to it, it's important to know your place as a citizen.
Let's say there's a raven, and it sees that Edgar Allen Poe is eating a really tasty bowl of bread crumbs.
Let's see how this would turn out.
Once upon a midnight dreary,
as I sit there weak and weary
eating a bowl of these bitchin' bread crumbs,
suddenly there came a tapping
as of someone gently rapping.
Rapping at my chamber door.
Tis the wind and nothing more.
Then the tapping got louder and the raven knocked on the door with his beak because Edgar was too lazy and moody to notice the first time.
Quoth the raven, "Give me your bread crumbs."
Quoth Edgar "No, they are not your breadcrumbs."
Quoth the raven, "I have a right to eat these breadcrumbs."
Quoth Edgar, "Uh, no. You don't."
Quoth the raven, "Look, it's a human/bird right!"
Quoth Edgar, "Oh? Really?"
Quoth the raven, "Yeah. Really."
Quoth Edgar, "Well, where does it say that you have the right to eat my breadcrumbs?"
Quoth the raven, "Look, it doesn't say it anywhere, but it's just common sense."
Now, I'm going to stop there out of curtesy to you. But the point remains that no matter how you feel about the raven getting some breadcrumbs, it still doesn't have the right, because without a government you do not have rights. That's actually one of the few things a government is theoretically good for. Without laws, there are no rights, because that's what rights are. They are laws that state that do not only state that you have the right to do something, or not to do something if you do not want to, for that matter, but also that no one has the right to deny you of that right, as it is fundamental to your dignity as a human being and an individual.
It becomes this ugly battle when you insult the hand that feeds you, which is not something you want to ever do. Remember, just because you want rights, it doesn't necessarily mean that you have them. Keep that in mind. Live by that. Know what you have and know what you don't. That's the right way.
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
Laughing your way to the top
I'll fill you in on a little secret. You can never win a fight by fighting back. You can only hope to win by dancing. Say it's the bottom of the ninth, the quarterback, Enrique Iglesias throws the puck down the table and he's about to score the winning basket of insults. What can you do? Can you mount a successful counterassault? Can you fire at him with your best insults? Can you find words so strong that he will crumble at the very sound of those words? Probably not. And if you are the type of person who would let this tomfoolery go on for more than the first exchange, you will probably crumble underneath the weight of your offender's assaults. So you can't outflank him. You can't out-offend him. So what can you do? You can outwit the guy.
Play the game. You can't win if you don't play. And honestly, half the game is knowing that it's a game. The rest will come naturally. Let me give you a shining example.
To set the scene, a young Jewish lad is on a bus from New York to Washington, D.C. passing through New Jersey. The bus stops in the middle of the Garden State at an obligatory gas station to let the patrons use the bathroom or buy some snacks.
So the young man approaches the counter with a bottle of water and a smile, knowing that he is about to replenish his body with the elixir of life. As he puts the soon-to-be-his bottle on the counter to begin the transaction, the proprietor gives him a smug look and says, "Don't Jew me out on those last few cents, ya kike!"
PAUSE AND REFLECT
What are this boy's options. Let's lay them out:
A. Be upset and cry
B. Be upset but hold in his emotions
C. Respond with wit and maintain composure.
For shits and giggles, let's try and play out each scenario.
SCENARIO A:
The young man gets offended and shows the shopkeep that he has won. He has subsequently lost the respect of all the people around him (He probably would care if he got so upset) and then the business owner would feel free to do so to other people.
SCENARIO B:
The young man would just smile, pay for his merchandise and walk away to the bus, only to have it torture him for the rest of the day. The shopkeep gains no satisfaction, but neither does the young man.
SCENARIO C:
The young man registers the insult and quickly replies with "I't all there. You can count it if you'd like, or do you need a calculator?" At this point, for a brief moment, time would simply pause for the not-so-gentlemanly gentleman behind the counter. He would need to regroup, as his assault was not equipped for retaliation. It's like the Winter War when the Russians invaded Finland. They didn't know what hit them. They did not anticipate the White Death's envolvement and that is why they lost. So our young hero retaliates with a real Simo Häyhä (Consult Wikipedia) of a comeback.
I think that it is fair to say that option C is the best one. Why?
Confusion on the part of the store owner [√]
Satisfaction [√]
Greater self confidence [√]
A totally bitchin' story to tell your buddies [√]
FINAL ANALYSIS:
Our young hero played the game, and beat the game by turning the tables. That's all you have to do. You don't fight fire with fire. You fight fire with water. That probably sounded much more insightful in my head than it does on here.
Play the game. You can't win if you don't play. And honestly, half the game is knowing that it's a game. The rest will come naturally. Let me give you a shining example.
To set the scene, a young Jewish lad is on a bus from New York to Washington, D.C. passing through New Jersey. The bus stops in the middle of the Garden State at an obligatory gas station to let the patrons use the bathroom or buy some snacks.
So the young man approaches the counter with a bottle of water and a smile, knowing that he is about to replenish his body with the elixir of life. As he puts the soon-to-be-his bottle on the counter to begin the transaction, the proprietor gives him a smug look and says, "Don't Jew me out on those last few cents, ya kike!"
PAUSE AND REFLECT
What are this boy's options. Let's lay them out:
A. Be upset and cry
B. Be upset but hold in his emotions
C. Respond with wit and maintain composure.
For shits and giggles, let's try and play out each scenario.
SCENARIO A:
The young man gets offended and shows the shopkeep that he has won. He has subsequently lost the respect of all the people around him (He probably would care if he got so upset) and then the business owner would feel free to do so to other people.
SCENARIO B:
The young man would just smile, pay for his merchandise and walk away to the bus, only to have it torture him for the rest of the day. The shopkeep gains no satisfaction, but neither does the young man.
SCENARIO C:
The young man registers the insult and quickly replies with "I't all there. You can count it if you'd like, or do you need a calculator?" At this point, for a brief moment, time would simply pause for the not-so-gentlemanly gentleman behind the counter. He would need to regroup, as his assault was not equipped for retaliation. It's like the Winter War when the Russians invaded Finland. They didn't know what hit them. They did not anticipate the White Death's envolvement and that is why they lost. So our young hero retaliates with a real Simo Häyhä (Consult Wikipedia) of a comeback.
I think that it is fair to say that option C is the best one. Why?
Confusion on the part of the store owner [√]
Satisfaction [√]
Greater self confidence [√]
A totally bitchin' story to tell your buddies [√]
FINAL ANALYSIS:
Our young hero played the game, and beat the game by turning the tables. That's all you have to do. You don't fight fire with fire. You fight fire with water. That probably sounded much more insightful in my head than it does on here.
Monday, October 28, 2013
Karl Pilkington is a child in a good way.
If you know who he is, then this blog post is for you. If you don't, then you may want to consider not reading this, as you may be more than a trifle confused.
So, he's a moron. Right? I mean, a complete dimwit. He's got nothing in that orange-shaped head of his except sufficient neurons to make him steal valuable air. Right? He's...well, you get the picture. Uh...no. Wrong.
He's...okay. He's not intelligent, but he is wise in a childish way. Before I go on, though, I'd like to point out that there is nothing wrong with being wise in a childish way. It's a very pragmatic school of thought. We listen to him talk and he isn't the brightest bulb but he understands how things work. He understands the framework of our world and society and he understands how things would work and he understands how things interact. He just doesn't know what things are in play.
I spoke to a child. She asked me why seat belts are the law. She's seven, mind you. Anyway, she asked me why seat belts are the law, and I told her that it's because the government wants people to be safe. "Okay, but...uh...I mean, why can't a person make a choice for themselves? I thought laws are to make it so that you're not allowed to do things to other people. Isn't that what laws are for? Why make laws that make you not allowed to do stuff that doesn't hurt anyone else?" Again I say, seven years old. That really struck me. She's seven years old and has that sort of insight. It's a brilliant thing. Really, it is. It's just as good of an idea, but she is naive about laws being made that have the soul purpose of making the state money, designed to make it look like it's to protect the people. But I don't really think that's a fair thing to expect a seven year old to know, as wise as she may be.
It's the same thing with Karl. He is a child. He retained all of the pragmatism that is usually made obsolete by learning how things actually are. That's not to say that it's bad to learn how things really are. It's just that we really need to rethink what laws and traditions we keep around just because they have always been there.
Also, it's important to remember that he's got an image to maintain. Look at Paris Hilton. She's brilliant. She gets into trouble, yeah, and she plays the part of the "dumb blond" very well. But think about all the money she's getting from it. Even Charlie Sheen was able to make money off of his House Arrest sentence. He's not as dumb as Ricky and Steve make him out to be. In short, to think that Karl is really as dim as he is made out to be is to think that reality shows are not scripted. But you know, he can't be bothered.
So, he's a moron. Right? I mean, a complete dimwit. He's got nothing in that orange-shaped head of his except sufficient neurons to make him steal valuable air. Right? He's...well, you get the picture. Uh...no. Wrong.
He's...okay. He's not intelligent, but he is wise in a childish way. Before I go on, though, I'd like to point out that there is nothing wrong with being wise in a childish way. It's a very pragmatic school of thought. We listen to him talk and he isn't the brightest bulb but he understands how things work. He understands the framework of our world and society and he understands how things would work and he understands how things interact. He just doesn't know what things are in play.
I spoke to a child. She asked me why seat belts are the law. She's seven, mind you. Anyway, she asked me why seat belts are the law, and I told her that it's because the government wants people to be safe. "Okay, but...uh...I mean, why can't a person make a choice for themselves? I thought laws are to make it so that you're not allowed to do things to other people. Isn't that what laws are for? Why make laws that make you not allowed to do stuff that doesn't hurt anyone else?" Again I say, seven years old. That really struck me. She's seven years old and has that sort of insight. It's a brilliant thing. Really, it is. It's just as good of an idea, but she is naive about laws being made that have the soul purpose of making the state money, designed to make it look like it's to protect the people. But I don't really think that's a fair thing to expect a seven year old to know, as wise as she may be.
It's the same thing with Karl. He is a child. He retained all of the pragmatism that is usually made obsolete by learning how things actually are. That's not to say that it's bad to learn how things really are. It's just that we really need to rethink what laws and traditions we keep around just because they have always been there.
Also, it's important to remember that he's got an image to maintain. Look at Paris Hilton. She's brilliant. She gets into trouble, yeah, and she plays the part of the "dumb blond" very well. But think about all the money she's getting from it. Even Charlie Sheen was able to make money off of his House Arrest sentence. He's not as dumb as Ricky and Steve make him out to be. In short, to think that Karl is really as dim as he is made out to be is to think that reality shows are not scripted. But you know, he can't be bothered.
Sunday, October 27, 2013
This is just weird, man
So yeah, it's taken me a while to make a proper "first" post. I tried several times to post this, but it has all gone to bust. So here is my fourth attempt. Let's hope it works.
This is not to say that I have just recently come to terms with being strange. This is to say that in a relativistic sense, I am not strange at all.
Granted, my life is strange, and yeah, my experiences molded me into the person that I am today. That's no secret. But all in all, I'm no stranger than anyone else, really. Everyone's a freak in their own right, and that's not such a bad thing. But I am not here to talk about what people should think about the freakery of their fellow freaks. I just want to let everyone know that there are freaks among you and you are in no way alone. Even that prick who lives two doors down and only ever talks about stock market trends and his worry that the invisible hand may some day fail (which could, in truth, be considered strange in certain circles) is a closeted freak. Rest assured that the old lady who (to your knowledge) does nothing but sit at home and knit has a past that could be comparable, if not to Mic Jagger's, then to your present.
I tell my friends stories about my other friends. I regale them with tales of my libertarian pagan pansexual polyamorous panromantic vegan friend whose mother hails from Africa but is as white as Andy Warhol. I tell my friends the stories of my buddy who volunteered at an orphanage and had the children perform "It's a Hard Knock Life" for the person in charge. I entertain companions with accounts of my friend who rides elephants for a hobby "because fuck you, that's why."
All of them say "Wow, your friends are really strange." They always did, and up until recently I answered "Yes, aren't they great?" Now, that's not exactly a bad or disrespectful answer, but it wasn't entirely accurate.
Recently, I started answering "No, they're just honest." I guess that's why I love them so much. I keep a pretty eclectic group of friends. From the European violin player to the Dutch Countess to the American everything else, they fill my life with joy and the confidence to be who I am today...or something mushy like that.
This is not to say that I have just recently come to terms with being strange. This is to say that in a relativistic sense, I am not strange at all.
Granted, my life is strange, and yeah, my experiences molded me into the person that I am today. That's no secret. But all in all, I'm no stranger than anyone else, really. Everyone's a freak in their own right, and that's not such a bad thing. But I am not here to talk about what people should think about the freakery of their fellow freaks. I just want to let everyone know that there are freaks among you and you are in no way alone. Even that prick who lives two doors down and only ever talks about stock market trends and his worry that the invisible hand may some day fail (which could, in truth, be considered strange in certain circles) is a closeted freak. Rest assured that the old lady who (to your knowledge) does nothing but sit at home and knit has a past that could be comparable, if not to Mic Jagger's, then to your present.
I tell my friends stories about my other friends. I regale them with tales of my libertarian pagan pansexual polyamorous panromantic vegan friend whose mother hails from Africa but is as white as Andy Warhol. I tell my friends the stories of my buddy who volunteered at an orphanage and had the children perform "It's a Hard Knock Life" for the person in charge. I entertain companions with accounts of my friend who rides elephants for a hobby "because fuck you, that's why."
All of them say "Wow, your friends are really strange." They always did, and up until recently I answered "Yes, aren't they great?" Now, that's not exactly a bad or disrespectful answer, but it wasn't entirely accurate.
Recently, I started answering "No, they're just honest." I guess that's why I love them so much. I keep a pretty eclectic group of friends. From the European violin player to the Dutch Countess to the American everything else, they fill my life with joy and the confidence to be who I am today...or something mushy like that.
Friday, October 25, 2013
This is my first entry. It is the best entry. Oh and Diana. Hello.
Hi guys. I just wanted to let you all know that I am starting a blög. What is the difference between a blog and a blög, you may ask? Well, a blög is much better. This will be a blög about all the things that I love and hold dear and think are interesting and think are funny and run-on sentences (obviously.) Just wanted to let you know that. Anyway. Have a good day...or a bad day, depending on what you deserve.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)