bring him back! we love him!
Holy crap! It's Wannabe
Either way, I no longer feel innovative. Thus, a lack of verbiage from me this issue. I'm programming, following my mind, hoping to create something I've never seen before. You'll enjoy it. I know you will.
Expect some crappy articles from me in the future - it's more important for me to reinvent the world than convince you to reinvent yours.
by Rown Garnbii
or: "What is Assholic?"
Recently, someone e-mailed me asking what "assholic" means. I realize now, that in my haste to verbally pummel those I detest and look down upon, I've entirely forgotten to mention what an assholic is.
Assholic: Taken from two words.
Ergo... Assholic: A bastard/whore addicted to being a fucking dickhead.
Now, generalizations and rudimentary definitions are fine for the Ivy League scholar, but nevertheless, I shall endeavor to specify.
Anyone can be an asshole. (Look, I'm doing it right now.) There is not a man, woman or child reading this column who has not stepped on someone's toes, cut someone off, or accidentally killed another person and failed to offer a sincere apology afterwards. We're people. It's in our nature, but there are those who, despite the rules of good form, continue on this path. They do things, sometimes purposely, sometimes absent - mindedly (I make no distinction), that annoy, bother and hurt those around them on a continual basis.
Why do they do this? Because they get off on it.
I don't care where you came from, how you were raised, whether your mother smacked you as a child while your daddy jacked off in the corner, there's no excuse for being a consistent and unwavering dick for the majority of your, and more importantly, my life.
There is a standard of how one should act in public. There is a standard of how one should act with their family and friends. And all this "be yourself" crap is bullshit. Being yourself is fine unless deep down you're really a jerk, like me. Therefore, around others it is your solemn duty to reel your attitude in.
I think I've made that about as clear as it's gonna get. Now that begs the question, why name the column Assholic? Well, if you haven't noticed, the only people I ever write about are assholes. The uber-religious, PeTA, the PTC, internet porn solicitors. These people make life harder to swallow on a daily basis. I'm not saying we, as a people, couldn't use the challenge, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't fight back.
I don't know how many people read this, and of those who do, I don't know how many of you actually listen, but to those who do, take heart. These people are the horsemen of the apocalypse. They are the death and the war and the plague of mankind, and left unchecked, they are the only ones capable of bringing it's downfall. And they will try. They are the only race on Earth to which every major problem can be rooted.
By now I'm sure I've got you all good 'n' incited to violence (yeah, right) but the problem with assholes is that they are masters of disguise. And, because they're the only race on earth who can't stand each other, they tend to disperse themselves in all known areas of the populous. Only occasionally do they form into larger visible factions like the previously mentioned PeTA or the Klan or the French. But in most cases they could be anywhere. Next door, at your place of business, in your schools, even in your own home!
Blatant assholes are easy to spot. They're flamboyant in their assholishness. They're loud, abrasive, and often easily avoidable. Dangerous, but avoidable. But there are several subsections that are far more proficient at the art of hiding in shadows, as the evil gamers say.
Over the next few columns (yup, another theme) I'm going to attempt to showcase these different subsects of assholes and tips on dealing with and/or avoiding them. As always, your comments and suggestions are welcome. (Though they will be read, criticized, scoffed at and cannibalized for usable parts by my crack team of nogoodniks... jealous?)
Lastly, your mission, if you chose to accept it. A site a friend of mine dug up and my new favorite site of the month. It tipped off a debate on whether it is real or a joke. In either case it's good for a laugh. What do you think?
The Game of Love
avoiding as a solution
by Amanda Bryant
It's my Senior year of High School and I'm overwhelmed by the cardboard personalities I'm surrounded by. Being the quiet type I sit and read alone. My books are of course "evil" books because they are too philosophically experimental and go against the norm. My peers give me odd looks because the title is "Being and Nothingness" which, of course, since it says "nothingness" means I'm immoral and depressed. Well at least that's what the "positive" and "optimistic" cheerleaders and teachers assigning Moby Dick proclaim. They call themselves optimistic because they ignore adversity. They don't possess the ability to embrace their pain and therefore conquer it. They avoid it and that's not a positive approach, though they assume it is and label people with my demeanor pessimistic because of my reflection on not just the good but the bad.
A true optimist enjoys depression as a raw human emotion because they're healthy enough to embrace it when it comes, grow stronger from it, feel alive from it, and then move on to embrace the next thing life brings. It's the weaker fake optimist who lives in false happiness and securities. The true optimist views experiences as a way to learn and grow. They're positive because they still feel that (no matter how painful) by letting it consume them they are invigorated and wouldn't take back ones tragedy, no matter how bad, from their life. I know I'm a true optimist.
It's beautiful to be human, even when you're depressed it's a strengthening thing. There have been times of dull happiness that I felt nonexistent, sometimes it takes states of depression to make one feel good, to feel alive. Because it's such a strong feeling coursing throughout your body and mind. The pain can be so intense, the tears so forceful, yet it feels good because the power we have to feel something that much reminds us that we're living. It makes us feel alive because we've become consumed by everything, so involved in our thought, our loneliness, our pain that we start to feel more real, more substance. It's very natural and very human to embrace these feelings and it's no wonder the greatest minds do so. That's how they've all learned so much. Human beings are the highest species not because of their big buildings or discoveries but because of their capacity to feel so intensely and to be so immersed in thought.
But "my kind" seems out there because we don't hide our pain. We wear our burden for all to see because that's the best way to conquer it and learn from it. Then we get all these nice psychiatric labels and seem to dance the line between insanity and intelligence. But it takes a struggle to reach any true life enjoyment and no one's ever too old or too young. Many have obtained great perception and intuition from hardships. I welcome more so I can be enlightened further. When you let your feelings good and bad consume you can truly appreciate that you are human. Just reflecting on a city street while walking down one, feeling the cool wind against your face, and little things like that can be a philosophical manifesto when you're living your life. Most people sadly are not living but observing, playing, or simply avoiding.
I'm only eighteen so people sigh or humor me when I proclaim myself a free thinker, philosopher, or writer. Our society is saddening sometimes but that very saddening society has motivated many to overcome the odds. It's sad that we create so many age barriers. People my age are supposed to have friends around my age and only talk to older persons within my family. My friends range from seven years old to seventy. Just the other day a student said to my art teacher "I bet I know more than you" and Mrs. Park responded "Well you probably know some things I don't but I am guarantee there's more things I know that you don't since I've learn more with age." That upset me - it's true someone older has had more time to learn things but not more chances. I've learned and lived more than people I know in their thirties. Wisdom can come from experiences and just because someone has lived longer doesn't mean they've had more experiences. Even if they have, it depends on what they were and what they've drawn from them. I've gained my wisdom through my endless struggles that began at early youth and have yet to end. I've been through more than most have my age and I know there are several who have been through more but it's what you make of your experiences that amounts to something. I've used everything I've been through to establish myself as an individual, strengthen my morals, gain knowledge, immersed myself in different perspectives, and so forth. I've also learned from other people's experiences through philosophical discussions, listening to others problems, observing other's behaviors, reading the writings of others, keeping up with current and past news, and overall being a friend. Wisdom doesn't come with age it comes when it's called upon!
Yet in this world it seems our type is dying out. We're seen as dark, negative, or freaks. But we're the ones creating artwork, music, poetry, books, and all the other things misused and misunderstood by those that label us. I read Morbus' writings and know he cares deeply about the human condition. We reflect on the negatives of society because we expect more, we realize everyone's potential. Our deep care is not seeds of negative thought it's optimism because we're facing it and looking for a better way.
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