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Who are we going to insult today? Nobody other than myself. I'm the dumbass here, I'm the alien, I'm the one who doesn't belong; I see it now. But let's go ahead and thank the parents, mine, for the fact that they still talk to me. I sure as fuck wouldn't. My parents are weathered veterans at difficult parenting. I was, and am still, a constant source of disappointment, disenchantment, and unthankfulness. If I say anything negative about my parents, then it is unintentional. (If you were married and 28, and all of your friends were getting divorced in some kind of massive movement--then you would probably get a divorce, too.)
So this Judging Amy little girl never shuts up. She asks questions about everything, and nobody stops her. This baffles me. Okay; I didn't read the book on being a kid--so I was a lousy one. My mother totally pampered me, so I was never lacking anything. But understand the point-premise of my life; I did NOT ask to be here. You want me to ask questions? Okay; why am I here? Is that a good enough question? I don't give a fuck about the sky being blue, bees pollenating flowers, or where babies come from. None of that shit concerns me in the slightest; still doesn't. And I don't want to discuss the religious or evolutionary manifest destinies of existence; I don't care why "man" is here; I want to know why "I" am here. To ask questions; that's what you want me to do? No. Sorry. If I need to know something, then there had better be somebody ready to explain what it is I need to know...
...Because people are fucking morons; running around like cockroaches, pretending that their little lives are all so important, never looking at the big picture, and rarely even the small one. Hmmm; you COULD say that regular stupid people INDUCE their own bad decisions, and then look for crap excuses to support their own behavior (they just do whatever they want, and then justify it later). I was in bed, right; 7 fucking years old, daddy comes to tuck in his disturbed son. I say 'Dad, can I tell you something?' 'Sure.' 'Reindeer don't fly; never have, never will; neither do sleds; no fat guy would fit down our chimney, and not all houses have chimneys. Santa Claus is a lie.' I will never forget the look on his face; it was frozen in time.
And I'm not looking at the big picture--I don't have to; I'm fucking 7 over here. This is my first conspiracy theory; 1972's version of the X-Files, bitch. These fucking people, these fucking "parents" of impressionable children are ALL perpetuating this idealistic lie of a generous fat guy. What the fuck is this shit? Ever woken up and seen who the tooth fairy really is? Yeah, that's pretty gosh darned disappointing, too. Fuck. Thanks! In a couple of years I will be 10, and talking to a counselor at skool about my attitude problem. It was the first time, of many hundreds, I would play like an alien--asking one person about matters of humanity; "Apparently you humans are having a problem of some kind that you want me to help with, right? I mean, because otherwise there is NO reason for me to be here; right? NO reason at all."
Where was I? Asking questions; inductive stupidity. Kids. Jeezus. Should we kill off the Stork and the Easter Bunny, too? Can you imagine the hate mail I'm going to get for this; I hate kids, I hate kid voices, I hate questions, I hate kids who ask questions--I'm totally fucked here. There is NO possible way out of this. Let's try the explanatory while we're 'winging it'. I didn't ask questions as a child. Questions imply an interest in something, concern, and I had no concern. I would take the facts, still do, and then DEDUCE a conclusion. Here's 2 working models of perpetual motion; how hard was that? Boom; hey look--I finished early, and didn't waste anybody's time by asking a bunch of stupid questions...But then, let's say you DO ask a question; somebody is going to expect you to pay attention to the explanation, AND learn from it. Parents just want to hear themselves talk; they don't quite seem to GRASP that kids want quick answers--not discussions. Easiest way to avoid this chaos? Don't ask questions. Keep it simple stupid. The only "discussion" I want to have is the one about whatever problem you dumbass humans want me to fix...Let's just say that a hypothetical dad has a short temper; dumbass kid asks dad a question + gets an explanation, then the kid does something wrong in DIRECT violation of dad's explanation; then dad gets to scream 'Didn't I just fucking tell you--blah blah blah!' Easiest way to avoid this chaos? Don't ask questions. Keep it simple stupid.
Folks ask me; 'Don't you want to make your parents proud, make good grades, get a good job, start a family of your own?' Um, in a word; no. Having children, and then waiting for them to make you proud would be another (inductive) example of a DUMBASS reason to breed. That's not why I'm here. Thank you, though. I am still the child here (dude, aren't you 40?); hey, 40, or 7, no matter at this stage. And I am STILL...NOT asking questions. Period. You want me to ask a question? Can I go to the bar now? Is that good; does that work for you? Can I go outside and smoke now? How's that; are you liking this theme? Wait...there was one question that has permeated most of my 40 years: 'Got any weed?'
Even at a very young age, I had to wonder why anybody would want to sit around and answer kids questions all day. What kind of simplistic joy is derived from watching brats realize things? I don't get it. I would never be a teacher, or work in daycare. Wouldn't it make you snap? I wouldn't last an hour...without medication and a smoking area. Can I go outside and eat some pills now? Can I borrow your lighter? Will you loan me some money? Hey; it was you who wanted me to ask questions, right?
Pissy, pissy, pissy; I should know better than to try to write when I don't have a plan. Perhaps I am due for a new challenge of some kind. So here ya go; if I get one of the cool jobs I'm trying for right now, I am going to do some background and ask questions. I will ask questions with the intent of getting better at my craft. Hell, I might even show interest--if it will make me some money. Being pissy and talking about how children annoy me doesn't pay very much. It's fun, and it does entertain me, but I'm getting poor.