Dear Noble Assholes,

Assholes don’t bother me.  Assholes who pride themselves on being assholes (and advertise their “asshole-ishness” publicly) don’t bother me, either.  However, there is a certain type of asshole that exists that does tend to irk me just a bit.  I would call this type the noble asshole.

Noble, because this sort of assholes has actually convinced themselves that being an asshole is synonymous with having an honest dialogue, thereby framing their need to be vindictive and rude towards people into a public service for the greater good of humanity.  Moreover, the noble assholes believe that being assholes just means that they are braver than you, because (unlike you) they aren’t scared to speak plainly.  Ultimately, I think it’s this sense of self-aggrandizement that grinds my gears about the noble asshole.

Because, tell me honestly, what great feat of bravery are accomplished by harping on about something as personal as someone’s physical flaws?  Do we honestly think that ugly people don’t know that they’re ugly?  That short people don’t know that they’re short?  So what great service is accomplished by calling for people to have to be confronted with these sort of shortcomings in every conversation they have, be they relevant to the conversation or not?

Now, don’t misunderstand me.  I have no problem with anyone saying whatever the hell they want.  I really, really could not care less at how offensive something is (be it something said, published, or put on display), because within a free society the right to be offensive needs to be as protected as the right to be offended is.  And claiming offense cannot, and should never, serve as a tool to silence someone simply because you feel insulted by what s/he said or did.  What I am saying is that, in that same spirit, if you are being insulting don’t further insult our collective intelligence by pretending that you are doing anything else.

No, you’re not “just being honest”.  You’re going several steps beyond that, on account that anyone past the age of puberty, who isn’t on the extreme end of the autism spectrum, ought to have enough common sense (not to mention human decency) to know the difference between speaking honestly, and being an opinionated dick on matters where your opinion was never asked to begin with.

The most annoying part is that, while I went out of my way here to accommodate the noble asshole’s asshole-ish ways by openly stating her/his right to be as shamelessly insulting as s/he sees fit, this same type of asshole will always (and I do mean, always) cry foul the moment someone responds accordingly to the insults s/he so freely spouted out.  It’s a warped sense of logic, in which the noble assholes demand the right to insult you, but deny you the right to acknowledge the reality that they have in fact just insulted you.

And these are the self-proclaimed “truth-tellers” of our age?  The noble souls who can’t even grasp the basic physics of how exerting an action will result in an equal reaction.

Noble?  Truth-tellers?  There is a more fitting description for people who lack the ability to speak with others with the basic tone of civility, who lack the ability to have the foresight or maturity to understand the consequences or impact their conduct can have on others; we call such people children.  And if you behave like child, throw temper-tantrums like a child, and have the emotional maturity of a child, then I will presume that you wish for me to speak to you like a child.  Just like a spoiled, undisciplined child, who has no filter and spouts out the first thing that pops into her/his underdeveloped mind.

And make no mistake, if you are among the self-proclaimed noble assholes, I am not doing anything noble by writing all of this.  I am insulting you, and you should be insulted but it.

Sober Without a Cause: The Perils of Remaining Social, Sans Booze

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Are you enjoying the party?”

“Oh, yes.  Thanks for inviting me.”

“Sure.  I can see your glass is almost empty, do you want me to refill it for you?”

“Yeah, sure.  Thanks.”

“Cool.  What would you like?  Beer?  Wine?  Maybe some gin, if you’re feeling spirited?”

“[Laughs] No thanks.  Just some more ginger ale would be fine.”

“Ginger ale?  Are you sure?  We’ve got plenty of great wine to go around.”

“Well, the thing is, I don’t drink.”

“Really?”

“Yup.”

“Wow, don’t drink, huh?  To be honest, I’ve never been in this situation before.”

“Well, it’s not much of a situation.  It’s no big deal, really.”

“Is it like a religious thing?  Are you a Mormon, or something?”

“Um…I actually don’t…”

“Not that there is anything wrong with being Mormon, of course.”

“No, of course not.  But…”

“I’m completely respectful of all people, from all backgrounds, and I want you to feel welcome in my home to express yourself and your beliefs.”

“No, I’m sure you are.  I feel very welcome to express myself, but I’m not…”

“Great.  Now, I’ll go get your ginger ale, while you mingle with the other guest.  And don’t you let them banter you for your beliefs.”

“Yeah, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

 

“Hi there, haven’t met you yet.  How you doing?  Great party, right?”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“I see you don’t have a drink.  What happened?  The other guest clear the bar already?  [Laughs]”

“Funny, but actually, I don’t drink.”

“Ah, I see, say no more.  I myself have been down that road, the important thing is that you are taking the steps to recovery, and that’s something to be proud of.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Look, I know being a recovering alcoholic is hard.  But it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“No, don’t you worry a thing about it.  In fact, you’re better of for it.  You have tasted the highs and lows that come along with booze, and now that you’ve had your fill, you can happily move on to a life of sobriety.  And, hey, at least you’re not like one of those freaks who has never enjoyed the nectar of a good brandy, right?  Can you imagine how boring those guys end up?”

“I think I have a pretty good idea.”

“My friend, what we got is experience in the real world.  Tell me, what good do you think a life is free of feeling oneself hitting rock bottom, several times over.  It’s like never knowing what it’s like falling off your bike.  Or being picked on by the other kids.  Or…”

“Getting repeatedly drawn into awkward conversations.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Where people, who don’t know you, keep making unfounded generalizations about you, based on the one trivial piece of information that you passingly mentioned.  All because it might be something irrelevantly dissimilar to what they have come to expect.  I mean, why bother asking for clarification when you can just fill in the blanks on a whim.  Heck, let’s forgo conversation entirely, because what anybody really wants is a sounding board to echo back all of their preconceived notions about people.  Right?”

“Yeah, I guess.  To be honest, I’m kind of buzzed here.”

 

“There you are.  I got your ginger ale for you.”

“Thank you.”

“I wasn’t sure if there is any sort of special way, or ritual, you need your drink prepared.”

“Well, aren’t you considerate of other people’s thoughts.”

“Thanks.  Now, you’re also welcome to say a prayer if you like.  I promise not to judge.”

“Thanks, and thanks for the ale, but how about you just go fuck yourself now.  Bye.”