Naw, fuck
that: the truth is, it doesn’t really matter who I am. Like you, I’m
just another one of precisely eleventy-billion, ugly, hairless monkeys with an
internet connection and an exaggerated sense of self importance.
I’m not rich
or famous, and I’m not here to sing you a song or write you a custom slash-fic.
I’m not sexy, I don’t have “noodz” and under absolutely no circumstances do I
want to “cyber” with you. Actually,
while we’re on the subject – I’m not a really a cat either, so you can keep
your cum-stained paws to yourself if that’s alright.
I’m not here
to save the spotted owl, tell you who to vote for or explain why you’re a
shitlord for ignoring the plight of oppressed tool and die makers from east
Buttfuckistan.
Finally, I’m
not here to sell you anything either – although, if some day you want to
subscribe to my channel because you think leaving a dangerous lunatic such as
myself in the public work force is a colossally, bad idea – well, nobody is
stopping you.
No, gentle
listener, I’m actually here just to talk. You see, I am possessed of a specific,
paradoxical type of mental defect where I can stand neither solitude, nor the
company of stupid people. I call this state “having two brain cells to rub
together” but you’re free to assume I’m just batshit insane.
Unfortunately, I
also have a job that requires me to maintain some form of decorum and therein
lies the problem. I spend all
day - virtually every day - pretending that I like other people for money, while
simultaneously growing more repulsed and alienated by the people I see around
me.
The world
hasn’t just become stupid; it’s embraced stupidity as some form of idyllic
state we should all aspire to, because, apparently dumb people are happy. Every moment, of every hour and every day of
your entire life, you (and I) have been encouraged to suppress our own
intellect and allow someone else to think for us.
I would love
to tell you that this is all part of some grand conspiracy theory – that would
certainly be more interesting wouldn’t it? Unfortunately, it’s rather difficult
to have a conspiracy when everything I’m talking about is right in the open.
You
see, it’s simply easier to control and profit from a stunned, infantilized
populace that’s been trained to crash from desire to desire without a second
thought for what it means to be human. While I hope to discuss the “reasons”
for all this at some later point in time, for now it is enough to say that my
money is on naked ambition and rampant self interest as opposed to a shadowy
cabal of wealthy elites who’ve been planning this since the dawn of time.
And of
course, we are also complicit because we tolerate this infantalization. We tolerate
it because our parents tolerated it. We tolerate it because not one single
person on this wretched mudball has ever known any different. We tolerate it
because we like TV shows, the Internet and Katy Perry music videos. We tolerate
it because every day the news reminds us that some poor dirt-farming bastard in
South Shitholeville has it much worse. We tolerate it because we don’t want to be
ostracized, for to question the ebb and flow of your shitty little life is the
ultimate sin when you’re surrounded by people pretending the impulse to consume
is synonymous with joy. Mostly though, we tolerate it because we’d like to be
left alone to attempt to wrangle some sense of happiness and worth out of our
brief existence.
Look, not one
person listening to this diatribe needs me to tell them that shit is pretty
fucked up right now. Turn on a television or use your internet connection for
something besides downloading cat pictures and graphic shit porn.
The whole
world is swinging towards violent extremism at a terrifying pace – there’s not
enough food, money or willpower on the planet to provide two cars, big screen
televisions and fucking Happy Meals to everyone and we all know it.
Nations
everywhere are using technology to monitor people in ways that would make the
fucking Stazi downright jealous. Our leaders
disguise wars as humanitarian actions and a complicit corporate media continues
to sell those lies for however long it takes them to finish killing everyone
who opposes their interests.
One of the
most powerful nations on earth has been revealed to be either a disgusting,
writhing mass of pedophiles or a pathetic, simpering nest of rats who lie to
protect pedophiles – just to avoid making a big fucking scene. Religious
zealotry is either making the mutherfucking comeback of all time or technology
is just making it too damn easy to smoke a fool for believing in the wrong
fortune-telling grifter. Police kill
people in the street for the most trivial of offenses and are declared innocent
of all crimes under the blanket of completely transparent lies – even when
video evidence says they’re guilty as fuck.
Hell, some
dipshit decided to make a 7th Fast and Furious movie for fuck’s sake
– you DO NOT need me to tell you that things are bad – you know it already.
No, giving a
shit costs – it costs you mentally and it costs you emotionally. If you decide
to get too uppity about giving a shit – especially in a public place - it’ll
cost you physically too. Therefore it’s simply much *easier* to play games, eat
garbage and argue passionately about nonsense - because to do otherwise would
be to court pain and suffering. We strike a bargain with the world and promise
not to mention how shitty things are if everyone just leaves us alone, in peace
with our entertainment, electronic trinkets and psychotropic pharmaceuticals.
“Just please, please, please – let me consume in peace” we beg.
Well, I’m not
going to leave you alone and I’m not going to let you consume in peace. I’m
going to keep talking and if you keep listening – I think you’re going to
discover that living a lie makes you angry. I think that deep down inside you
know that you are capable of being more than a hungry mouth, raging hormones
and a walking ATM machine.
Of course, I
could be wrong about you and as we’ve already established, I’m probably batshit
fucking crazy - so there’s a pretty good chance you’re only here to listen the
“oldfag” “sperg-out.” That’s fair enough, but I’m going to keep talking anyways
– because I find it therapeutic, because I own a decent headset and because
quite frankly I love the sound of my own voice. Stick around, and maybe we’ll
both learn something in the end…
You’ve been reading
to Everyone Is Wrong but Me and if you expect some kinda medal for making it to
the end of the article, you can go fuck yourself Charlie. Oh and subscribe to my channel, or I’ll send flying, cannibal monkeys to skullfuck your whole family.
Ciao.
No comments:
Post a Comment