💾 Archived View for clemat.is › saccophore › library › ezines › textfiles › ezines › ANADA › anada06… captured on 2021-12-03 at 14:04:38.
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*****###****###***********************************************###**#**##****
## ## ### I S S U E # 0 6 4 0 5 - 2 3 - 0 0 ### ####
### # ### #######
#### ### "How Do I Hate You? Let Me Count the Ways" ###
####### by Phairgirl
####
Every other day, I hear people whining about how they hate people.
I'm thoroughly convinced it's the trendy thing to do, to be all angsty and
black and goth and pitiful and whiny and horrid. Ugh.
Let's get this straight: I hate people. I've said it more times than
I can ever possibly count. I don't have a FEAR of people, which is usually
what most people mean when they say they hate people; nay, I just wish them
all dead and that they wouldn't talk to me. It would make me smile.
Examine this, shall we not:
I absolutely, positively cannot handle people talking to me like I'm
an idiot. I hate to break this to anyone who cares, but I'M NOT FUCKING
STUPID. I don't have a college degree, and I'm not super book smart or up
on all the latest whoodilly antics of President So-And-So and his mass
killings of the Pumdillyupkins in the Wangdangadoodle Desert. It's not that
I don't care, I just don't watch much television or read many newspapers
or generally involve myself in the outside world (WHY? GUESS) and so I may
not be able to follow that conversation. This, however, does not make me
retarded. I have encountered many, MANY people who are thoroughly capable
of educating others in a non-condescending manner and not acting high and
mighty while doing it. A note to the world: follow that lead.
I also cannot handle being subordinated by people who have no power.
Case in point, my job, where the sales representatives on the other end of
the phone are no higher on the totem pole than I am, but feel the need to
tell me when it's alright for me to do my job. Motherfucker. DIE. And I
don't have the power to write them up for this, so I just hope that they get
caught one of these days. In the meantime, I grumble. Wheee.
I am also afflicted by a horrible paradox: I can't stand it when
people don't take me seriously. However, I spend most of my life being
perpetually cyncial and sarcastic and brash. I don't know, I think I just
wish I had the power to somehow force people to know the difference. For a
rudimentary primer, I suppose I only have this to offer: If I say something
and it offends you, I'm generally not being serious. If I sound as though
I'm thoroughly analyzing a point and trying not to rip you a new asshole,
it's possible I'm being quite serious. Note that neither of these really
mean a lot to me in the long run, as they're both quite emotionless and
mostly just me trying to be witty.
And speaking of emotionless, I really hate that people thing for some
reason that I'm nice and caring. I don't know, I mean, I have few close
friends, and that's completely different. However, I get to a point where
I get sick of people wallowing in their own depression and angst instead of
trying to do something with their lives that I lose all compassion and
revert to being a cynical bitch again. Go ahead and call me a hypocrite on
this one, I'm thoroughly aware of it.
I've used the word "thorough" four times already.
Did I mention semantics? Oh man, you know, for as much as I hate
people, I hate them most when they act like a goddamn computer/dictionary/
encyclopedia. GOD FORBID that my debating skills aren't perfect, or that
my logic is flawed or that in the midst of my rant I can't pinpoint my rage
into a coherent thought. I spend half of my life with people saying "But
you said THIS, and that's not quite THIS [worded slightly differently]."
Jesus Christ, thank you for treating me like my IQ is 12 and showing me
the correct way to fold my toilet paper as I attempt to wipe my ass. Fuck
off and die. DIE.
I could really turn this file into a piss and moan fest here, which
is almost inherently anyway, except that there's not much I'm really trying
to accomplish here except to possibly influence the world to keep me sane.
Not that I believe that will work, since knowing people, they all suck and
tomorrow I'm going to wake up and some bitch at the record store is going to
talk to me like I'm retarded because she says an album is import-only but I
know it isn't. And those assholes on the phone at work will never get
caught, and people will continue to take everything I say the wrong way and
everyone I know will keep whining about their miserable lives.
Oh, I have such an awful life, nobody understands me, nobody treats
me with respect, I live in a shithole town, blah. Please, be the sack of
shit that you are and do me the honors of ridding me of this world. Hah.
You won't. One more reason that I hate you.
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# (c)2000 aNAda e'zine aNAda064 .*. by Phairgirl #
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