Sticks and Stones – August 25, 2022

graphix: spwilcen

Lexiphobes: don’t read the notes and you’ll survive the stress at less than 400 words.

Observation

We don’t like it when someone “calls us a name.”  Especially when they are spot-on.  For some reason peculiar to the human animal¹ we don’t mind someone jabbing at us with a slur that is so far off base it’s obvious² to everyone else.

But³ call any of us a “socialist” or a “Democrat” or a “conservative” when in fact we are a socialist, liberal, or Democrat, we go ballistic.

The reason is that we are aware of who we are, and we don’t like it. We especially don’t like it that it’s pointed-out to us, be that in public, or in the intimacy of a closed group of “friends” with disparaging overtones.  Get this, it’s even worse, when our “accuser” delivers the blow deadpan.

Sure, those of you who at this point are already clueless crave examples.  I’ll accommodate.

Call me “intolerant” and I bristle.  Recently finding myself rigid regarding the attitudes and habits of most⁴ other people, I embarked on a personal crusade to “right” myself, correct my obviously disgusting attitudes. Yes, Virginia, to become tolerant.

Call me “male chauvinist” and I’ll be more than mildly perplexed.  Not angry, just confused.  I do not go out of my way to hinder the stronger gender, factually, quite the opposite.  I do appear [and am] chauvinist when females and self-serving non-female feminists go overboard. Don’t give me the old bullshit⁵ about “been wrong so long, the only way to deliver justice is to over-correct in favor of the downtrodden.”  Won’t fly.⁶

Call me a Luddite, I’ll simply chuckle to myself.  Considering the source, I’ll rule you something of an ignorant fool.  Ignorant? Yes, because you assume old codgers like me never bled on the edge.  I’ve done my share of technological bleeding. Stories abound, but you’d not understand, computers as common in your life as automatic toaster-ovens (computer-chip embedded or IoT controlled), you’d disbelieve and intolerantly consider me a prevaricator. Unless, that is, your social media IA overlords declared me a liar, when, but of course, you’d know for certain.

I can give many more personal for-instances. We’ll not continue.  We must be considerate of lexiphobes, who by this time are already pushing the cursor to close this page.

I am singly comfortable though, and for me that is fortunate, being a misanthrope.

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¹ Apologies to animal animals like dogs, cats, horses, squirrels, and sewer rats. All of whom serve some meaningful, albeit at times evil ways. There is no single word for a creature less than animal, viciously and cruelly base in its motivations. Humans.

² Or as far as we’re concerned, should be obvious, except to bone-headed nitwits and malicious dorks.

³ Just for example.  An exhaustive list would be ludicrous and include characteristics some consider laudable.

⁴ “Most” is not exaggeration. Attempts to rectify my flaws to some extent worked, but rewards were paltry. Each allowance I made was greeted with apparent increases in the lunacy, greed, and/or stupidity of those I worked to accept as they were.  Giving up attempts to rectify my flaws, I’m better for it, granting that the dipstick monitoring my bile levels returned to normal and realizing that people are quite simply, stupid, greedy, and insane requires less energy than trying to make sense of their actions or positions.  It is phenomenally easier to relax as a misanthrope than it is to labor to become tolerant of idiots et.al.

⁵ Not only regarding feminist claims and causes. Include here skin-color apologists, more-federal-governmentists, states-rightists, sexually-confused its, poor people, chronic welfare recipients, animal-rights loonies, glomal-warning deniers, C-level corporate crooks, and (sigh) need I go on?

⁶ Okee. My complaint that it’s time to stop abusing the tax-paying middle class is not over-correcting. I’m suggesting it’s someone else’s turn to suffer for the benefit of “unfortunates.” Who? Hollywood. Sports mega primadonnas. Politicians. Corporate criminals. Illegals and chronic welfare slugs. However, if Sleepy Creepy were to offer me $10,000.00 to “make up” for the suffering I’ve endured as a taxpayer for 60 years, why, I’d consider it my patriotic duty to accept, and while accepting, to complain it’s not $100,000.00.