Just Another Victim

I promised myself that I'd never go back on my word. I promised myself that I'd never involve my personal life in this blog. I'm going to keep that promise. In the meantime, however, I'm going to make a defiantly overdramatic stand against the people who do. I've never been one to understand the mindset of our times. It seems that promotion of constant complaining is everywhere I turn. Everyone's entirely overwhelmed by the pain of the knives in their backs. That comes as a complete shock to me, to be honest. One would think that the pain of having your manhood amputated would decisively surpass that of being 'stabbed in the back'. I suppose I'm wrong. Obviously I'm wrong. I've never been so ashamed to wake each day and get slapped in the face by someone else’s problems. Sure, call me insensitive, call me selfish, call me whatever, but until I'm faced with a problem that's actually...a problem...then I just don't care. Here's the deal. The entire world assumes that the worst days of their lives are a gazillion times tougher than everyone else’s. I'd like to call upon a precedent to further my point. A while back I wrote on the subject of pride and perspective (and the inherent lack of both). It's entirely relevant to generate the topic again, because, as I see it, it's more than necessary. There's something amazingly wrong when a man's biggest problem is that no one else cares about his problem. In translation, he gripes because no one listens to him gripe. Overly sensitive people aren't attractive. Overly dramatic people are just annoying. And here I live, in one annoyingly ugly world. I guess I'm being a hypocrite, but I'm scoring myself some points just for admitting to it. I'm complaining about other people's complaining, but hopefully my intonations speak for themselves. My intention isn't to whine and moan and hope that people listen. In fact, it's the exact opposite. I would hope to assume that I'll have some impact on the way people think. By pointing out just how trivial they really are, I might accomplish something - although my hopes aren't high.

I've come to believe, perhaps through experience, that there's a zenith to every situation. Certain situations, especially those relating to poor whining babies in a death match with the world, have a common pinnacle. That pinnacle, my friends, is the creation of drama with the intent of solving every problem. Here's my issue (yes, my issue) with this. Sure, it's honorable to want to plant flowers in everyone's garden and sing them songs and make everyone feel lovely and nice, but solving problems with one giant swoop and expecting it to work is completely idiotic. To further this, simply planning to solve problems that aren't even problems just makes things worse. Don't even try to deny it. If people would pause for a moment, stop acting like little girls, and realize that the problem they have would be a desirable situation for someone much worse off, then I think we'd stand a chance at sanity. Until then, the going won't be so easy. If something isn't broken, then please don't fix it. The last thing anyone needs is meddling, and though the intentions are good, the results just suck. It's truth, folks. Here's what I propose: social isolationism. It worked globally for America for a while, so why not try it out. Rather than expecting everyone to get involved in everyone else’s lives, let's try minding our own business. If we worry about ourselves, we could actually do something right. It might be a lofty concept, but I'm standing by it.

I'm often asked when one can tell things have just gone too far. Ok, so I'm not often asked that, I've actually never been asked that, but I do often think about it. In case you were wondering, here's how I'd answer the question. Things have gone too far when someone's social isolationism aggravates someone who isn't or shouldn’t be involved in any way, shape, or form in the dealings of someone else’s life. Sometimes this can involve groups of people I like to call "big whiny losers", or the singular form, "big whiny loser". These losers live by a philosophy, a code of conduct, that requires of them but one thing - to spread useless information about useless things to people who don't give a damn. Friends, that's their biggest mistake. They automatically assume that people care. However, the unfortunate thing is that when a group of losers gets together, it's one big session of positive affirmation - plain old reinforcement of an already bad ideology. Wonderful. There's no escaping it.

So here I am today, spreading the gospel of isolationism for the sake of the free world. Stand up, people with logic, people with common sense! Join hands and fight back the oppressive forces of big, whining, complaining losers who hate their miserable lives but wouldn't know a problem if it dropped a stinking load of poop in their granny panties. These people need to be contained for the sake of sanity near and far, for the sake of you, and at least for the sake of me. Trust me, there's nothing scarier than a man who acts like a PMS-ing woman. It's just not natural. But, I suppose, in the end we're all just victims of the same trivial problems. However, if that were true, what the hell would I write about?

Oh wait, I must have forgotten:

When the world hates your guts, you always have something to say.