- Centrist: adj. the act of claiming to not care about identity politics in order to feed one’s own already narcissistic self-value.
- Communism: adj. crippled by Progress (see Progress).
- Conservative: adj. a desire to recapture an imaginary Golden Age, and cease caring.
- Corporation: adj. the benchmark of personhood for Conservatives; n. the Great Satan of Liberals.
- Economics: v. the act of attempting to predict the future, through a broken crystal ball.
- Elections: n. the greatest theater production money can buy.
- Family Values: absolute control of the person (see Person), and her/his genitalia.
- Fascism: v. the act of feigning fear.
- Free-market: n. the omniscient, omnibenevolent, omnipotent God of Libertarianism (see Libertarianism).
- Independent Voter: n. a disgruntled Conservative/Liberal; n. a committed Moderate (see Moderate).
- Labo(u)r: n. an archaic animal of antiquity that invokes nostalgia in Liberals (see Liberal), and disdain in Conservatives (see Conservative).
- Liberal: v. a state of perpetual inability to cease seeing faults everywhere in society.
- Libertarianism: n. the completely rational belief that faceless, easily corruptible conglomerates are more honest and trustworthy than faceless, easily corruptible governments.
- Middle-class: n. a mythical being with no clear definition; adj. a rhetorical token point.
- Moderate: n. white bread.
- Person: adj. act of being valued by your monetary and/or societal contribution; n. a corporation (see Corporation).
- Politics: adj. the art of self-interest.
- Progress: v. the infantilization of humanity; adj. hope for change with no plan to act.
- Religion: adj. a source of false humility for the socially powerful, and a source of false power for the socially humiliated.
- Socialism: n. the elder brother of Communism (see Communism); adj. being beyond redemption.
- The People: n. a device that creates the impression of human compassion.
- Voting: v. a dramatic tragedy.
Sane: “How are you feeling?”
Sane: “Good. Sleep well?”
Sane: “Excellent. Do you know who and where you are.”
Sane: “Who are you? Where are you?”
Insane: “I’m a patient at a psychiatric facility for the mentally disturbed.”
Sane: “Do you know why you’re here?”
Insane: “If I was to take a wild guess, I’d assume it’s because you think I’m mentally disturbed.”
Sane: “Do you disagree?”
Insane: “I wasn’t aware I had a vote in the matter.”
Sane: “Why do you think you’re here?”
Insane: “Because you think I’m dangerous.”
Sane: “Dangerous in what way?”
Insane: “Don’t know. I’m not the one who thinks this, you are.”
Sane: “If you had to, how would you prefer to describe yourself then?”
Insane: “Everything. Everything that matters.”
Sane: “Everything? Like secret plots and conspiracies, things of that nature?”
Insane: “Amongst other things.”
Sane: “I see. What about other people? Are they as aware as you are?”
Insane: “No, it doesn’t look like they are. I suppose if you all were, you wouldn’t have put me in here.”
Sane: “Makes sense. Can you tell me any specific things or details you are aware of which others aren’t?”
Insane: “No, I can’t. You’re already convinced I’m crazy and everything I say will just further validate this belief.”
Sane: “And you don’t think that you’re crazy?”
Insane: “As a matter of fact, I don’t.”
Sane: “Why not?”
Insane: “I can’t prove a negative. Tell me why you think I’m crazy and I’ll tell you why you’re wrong.”
Sane: “Okay. You admit to being aware of things that other people aren’t, correct?”
Sane: “And you are convinced that this awareness gives you insights to details that go by unnoticed to the rest of us?”
Sane: “And, since only you can notice these details, your testimony is the only source you have to validate any of it, since (by your own admission) the rest of us lack the awareness to attest to anything that you’re saying. Correct?”
Insane: “You’re making it sound a bit more simplistic than I would. But sure, that’s essentially right.”
Sane: “So, what does it tell you when you have a piece of information that only you have the awareness to notice, whose validity cannot be deduced by anyone else’s perception but your own? Would you agree that, given all this, you ought to exercise a bit of caution about how much trust you can place in this awareness of yours, and the validity of these various plots and conspiracies it’s helped you uncover? Perhaps consider the alternative that all you think is so right and real, is possibly just the result of possessing a very confused mental state?”
(In)sane: “Perhaps. But, by that same token, how can I be sure that, what you perceive to be a healthy state of mind, isn’t simply a failure on your part to connect all the relevant dots?”
Excerpt from The Insomniac Manifesto, available for free here.
I spend a lot of time with teenagers. Wait, that sounds possibly incriminating. What I mean is, I spent a lot of time watching teenagers…Damn it! That sounds much worse. Okay, my time spent volunteering as a tutor with struggling middle school students places me in a position from wherein I can observe the day-to-day behavior of a large group of teenagers better than most adults. (Yeah, that sounds sufficiently neutral and creepy-free).
And in my time with the up-and-coming minds of tomorrow, I have noticed that a lot of teens easily buy into a lot of fabrications we adults tell them to ease their pubescent angst; with some lies being more innocent than others.
Lie: Acne clears up on its own with time.
- HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!…No, just no. Now, if you have like one or two zits on your face all throughout your adolescents, then sure, it’ll probably clear up. But if you have a face with a noticeable amount of acne, getting some Neutrogena products now would be a wise investment for the future.
Lie: Bullies will get what’s coming to them once they enter the real world.
- Although it would make us all feel great to know how the asshole who used to tease us relentlessly in gym class is doomed to spent a lifetime performing degrading tasks in low-paying jobs, the truth is that in a lot of situations today’s bullies end up being tomorrow’s corporate leaders. The reason being that the job sector often equates aggressive personalities with competence, so there is a reasonable chance that the sort of guy who used to bully you, will be the sort of guy who will be your boss one day (which goes to explain why so many of our employers come across as such douchebags all the time).
Lie: To achieve, you just need to believe.
- Believe what, exactly? That you have the talent to make it in your chosen interests? Sure, I can see that as an important factor, but it’s hardly ever the definitive ingredient to get you to your goal. More than believing in yourself, you will need to know people. Without proper connections you won’t go far in what ever it is you’re aiming to do. But with the need to acquire connections, also comes the need to flatter said important connections. In short, you have to be a bit of a kiss-ass politician, ready to adjust your views and positions to endear your possible contributors to your side. Which also refutes another popular fib claiming that a person “must always stay true to her/himself”, with the missing qualifier being: except if you want to climb as high as possible on that social ladder).
Lie: Wisdom comes with age.
- Absolutely. But so does senility, dementia, and an over-hyped feeling of self-righteousness. Yes, I know a great deal of elderly people who are brilliant, knowledgeable, and insightful. But by all accounts I have been given, they appear to have possessed all of those positive qualities as much in their 30s, as they do in their 60s, and 70s. On the flip side, I have also known (as I’m sure all of you reading have, too) quite a lot of elderly people who were racist, ignorant, and hysterically paranoid about the world. And, yes, I imagine they were all these things in their youths as well, but age hasn’t made them any wiser, it just seems to have amplified all of their bad personality quirks. The simple truth is that organs decay with time; your brain being an organ, will eventually start decaying, taking your mind with it. Age, by definition, is not a remedy to this dilemma.
I’m sure there are plenty of more examples of lies we tell teenagers out there (and if you have any good ones I would be more that happy to read them), but I think that I made my point. And to any teenagers reading this, let me just say–in the spirit of honestly–that we adults lie to ourselves when we say that the reason we deceive you is to ease the social pressures you’re going through. The greater reason is that we lie as a means of getting you to shut up about your problems (because shit if we know how you’re supposed to solve any of them). But to make it up to you, hear is a picture of a cute koala bear.
Ever since The Walking Dead has made zombies a marketable cash cow for a new generation of consumers, there have been many commentators (some more serious than others) talking about all the possible “what-if” scenarios, if (in purview of some hypothetical reality) zombies were actually to rise from their graves to feed on our delicious human flesh. It’s a thought I, too, had many years ago when I first saw Night of the Living Dead as a kid, and since then my worry on possible zombie apocalypses has remained unchanged; in that, if it were to happen, I see no personal reason to worry about it at all. Allow me to explain this in blog digestible form, by composing a short list of three reasons why a zombie outbreak gives me no viable concern.
1. Zombies are slow and extremely stupid. Even as an easily fooled youngster who was prone to believing that the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were a real thing living somewhere in the sewers of New York City (let’s be honest, it would be the less surprising find, compared to what is probably really crawling around down there), I still could not believe the premise of any zombie movie where these slow-moving, completely brain-dead things take over the world; dragging one foot at a time, as we sprint ahead at full speed. I think I could probably lightly skip my way passed a traditional zombie movie monster (at a relatively casual pace), and still be so far ahead of it that I could take a brief nap on a tree branch, wake-up refreshed, and continue on thereafter without losing an inch of my head start.
I don’t understand how these things could manage to outmaneuver anybody, they’re joints barely bend for crying out loud. If you don’t have the speed or flexibility to get passed a zombie, you probably got other (far more pressing) health issues you should be more worried about than a zombie attack. Another thing, since these things are really, really, really stupid, and we have a whole functioning arsenal of fleets stocked with weapons strong enough to wipe out all of civilization several times over, why on earth couldn’t we figure out a way to lure them into a giant hole somewhere [the Grand Canyon would work just fine], seal it off, and take them out from there in one big swoop? Or, at the very least, why can’t we put up a large array of treadmills all around the outskirts of the country, so that those dumb things can just walk in place as we take them out from above.
Which brings me to my second reason for not fearing a zombie outbreak.
2. I live in the South. Some people are under the impression that Jesus is Lord in the American South, but those people are a little misinformed. For many Southerners, Samuel Colt is the true messiah by which we are all made equal around here, and the 2nd Amendment is the Divine scripture through which His will be done on earth (can I get a hallelujah, brothers and sisters?). In the South, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear if we really did have more bullets then there are actual people in all of North America, not to mention, a helluva lot of trigger-happy folks itching for some (un)life target practice. If zombies start scavenging around the United States, I don’t see them getting very far past the Mason-Dixon line. Which means that, even though I don’t personally own a gun, and wouldn’t be good at firing one if I did [poor eyesight and all], I’ll still be the safest SOB in the country on account of all the brave yokels ready to face the swarm of slow-moving dead guys. And, if we’re being honest, many of them will probably take out a good number of zombies before they even realize that they were in fact shooting at zombies–‘cuz, son, trespassin’ is a mortal sin ’round these here woods. That goes for the living and the dead.
3. What’s the worst that can happen, really? Let’s say I’m bitten by a zombie, and I become a zombie, then what? Nothing, because I’ll lack the cognitive capabilities to even so much as give a shit about my new undead state. It’s not like I’m going to be bummed out about it, contemplating the depressing existence I’m now forced to endure for the remainder of time. I’m a freaking zombie! I won’t (I can’t) care. I won’t care about anything except getting a bite of some of that savory, mouthwatering, “save-the-taters-and-just-pass-the-gravy,” delicious human flesh. I’ll tell you what else I’m not going to care about: bills, mortgage payments, debts, my income, that stupid “check engine” light that keeps coming on in my car [no matter how much I check that stupid engine and find nothing there]. Because I’m a zombie, I’ll have no cares; so what’s there to worry about even in the worst case scenario of a zombie apocalypse? Come to think of it, it kind of sounds rather relaxing.
With werewolves, on the other hand, there is no point in even contemplating the outcome. Because I’ll be one of the first people those quick and agile motherfuckers eat and digest.
“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.”
“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?”
“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.”
“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.”
“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.”
Three years ago, I finally got around to seeing a movie called Prometheus, because I was tired of every-freaking-person I know constantly telling how, “This movie will blow your mind, man. If you don’t see it, and you don’t like, you’re officially too stupid to function.” Well, I saw it, and I guess I’m “officially too stupid to function.” I found the movie to be visually appealing, and the acting was much better than I expected it would be. But, overall, I didn’t think much of it. Yes, I got all the “nuanced” intricacies about the frailty of human existence and the endless search to find meaning in life, etc., etc., etc (so please spare me the 2000 word email, philosophizing to me about how I must not have truly “gotten” the plot because I don’t love the movie as much as you do). When I saw the movie everyone from my old college roommate to my own mother bombarded me with why I’m wrong not to appreciate the stupendous beauty of it all. All of this is strange to me because when it comes to movies I’m a firm believer that brilliance is in the eyes of the individual viewer. You and I can watch the same movie, and leave the theater with completely different perceptions about what we just saw; neither one of us is wrong and neither one of us is right about whether or not we personally connect with a film–it either hits us intellectually and/or emotionally, or it doesn’t. Thus, I’m more than willing to agree to disagree with anyone whose opinion differs with mine on this Prometheus movie, or any other movie I may have enjoyed/disliked in the past. However, I’ve noticed that a lot of people simply cannot let it go if someone doesn’t enjoy their favorite film as much as they do; therefore, they must convince you about how awesome their favorites are, or shun/ridicule you for your inability to appreciate the “great nuances” of the mindful plot they are so keen on.
This post isn’t going to be a review on Prometheus. Instead I want to briefly list and discuss four movies that most people I have met are willing to get in fistfights about if I so much as dare to share my lack of enthusiasm for them. If you are a semi-regular movie watcher you have probably heard of these films, and if I say something that offends you, remember that this is just my take on the matter, and not meant to be an absolute verdict on anything. Ready? Okay, let’s start in reverse:
4. Napoleon Dynamite (2004): The fan following this movie developed early on in its release amazing me to no end. It was quoted everywhere, by everyone. People had “Vote for Pedro” shirts within weeks of its first showing; not to mention, the dance scene was reenacted by more random people in my acquaintance than I’m willing to admit. Personally, the movie bored me. I know it was meant to be quirky, and kind of dopey, and I can definitely understand how this adds to the charm for those who enjoyed it. But it bored me. In the end, I left the theater convinced that Napoleon wasn’t socially ostracized by his peers because he was nerdy, but because he was kind of an asshole. And I find it hard to sympathize with a protagonist whose well-being I don’t give a shit about.
3. From Duck Till Dawn (1996): Oh. My. Gawd!–People love this movie. At least, people who have lived/interacted somewhere within my general vicinity. I don’t know if it’s because Quentin Tarantino and George Clooney are in it, or because Robert Rodriquez has somewhat of a cult following amongst movie fans, but everyone has been preaching to me about the brilliance of this movie since the 7th grade. Like I said before, I get it. It’s witty in many places, and the action scenes are original for its time (especially the scene with the crotch-gun). Also, the fact that it’s supposed to be a bit corny didn’t elude me either. Yet, there is a point at which corny because silly, which in turn because stupid. Three-quarters of the time the human survivors were stuck in that bar (after the initial vampire attack/brawl), I found myself thinking, “WTF is the point of this scene right here?” [Like the part where, after being attacked by a horde of vampires, and finding themselves having to fight an entourage of newly made vampires, and being possibly surrounded by another innumerable horde of vampires outside, the character Frost starts reciting an overly dramatic war story from the Vietnam War that the other characters just can’t help but calmly listen to, becoming oblivious to the dangers of their surroundings. If I was there I would have slapped that guy’s face in the middle of his story and stated, “There are fucking vampires around us. I don’t give a shit about what you did in motherfucking Vietnam. Now, grab something sturdy and help me board up the windows & doors, jerk.” But that’s just me.]
2. Scarface (1983): Arguably one of Al Pacino’s most memorable roles, the criticism this movie usually gets stems from its excessive depiction of violence, drugs, and profane language (which is, ironically, also the primary reason why so many people enjoy the film). I couldn’t care less about any of that, and would personally never discount a movie just because it made use of some colorful material. My problems with the movie is the pacing, the sloppy editing, and the beyond belief feats performed by the characters in what is supposed to be an otherwise reality-based movie (I mean, come on, how much cocaine can Tony Montana snort without passing out? How many bullets can he take without at least tipping over?). Nevertheless, I found myself in an awkward spot when this movie comes up in casual company, because I do see value in it. I enjoy watching Al Pacino be Al Pacino, but with a Cuban accent. But I have to be honest that it isn’t as great to me as it probably is to you. A simple statement that’s usually more than enough to arouse the content of any suburban gangsta within earshot.
1. Deliverance (1972): This movie is ranked as one of the top achievements in American cinema. In 2008, it was even selected for preservation by the American Film Registry for being “culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant.” My indifference to this movie has been suggested as the ultimate proof of my ineptitude in casting any opinion on movies whatsoever (possibly a worthwhile thing for the readers of this post to consider when evaluating my opinion here). Let me first start off by saying, no, I am not offended by this movie because of its depiction of Southerners. I am unimpressed by this movie because it nearly bored me to death when everybody promised it would be, “the most horrifically thrilling film in existence.” I wasn’t. In fact, I found it to be pretty tame–allow me to explain, before you condemn my philistine judgment. When I first saw this movie I was about nine years old, and I fell asleep before the character Drew died on the canoe (belated spoiler alert). Years later, I decided to give it another shot, convinced that my initial apathy was caused by my prepubescent brain being unable to fully appreciate all the subtle “nuances” (there is that word again. I just hate that word so much) of the plot. Yeah, well, I was left bored again. Only this time I couldn’t blame youth or anything else. Although I could appreciate the aesthetic beauty of the setting, I’m someone who cannot be swayed into liking a movie because it has pretty trees or a mesmerizing lake in the scenery; the plot and the characters matter to me. The problem here is that for this movie, they didn’t. The movie was slow, but not in a way that focused my attention further into the details of the plot. The dialogue didn’t make me ponder anything deep, despite the annoyingly constant attempt by the script to throw armchair philosophy at me ad nauseum. The characters weren’t as engaging as I would have liked. Moreover, nothing [absolutely nothing] in the movie caused even the slightest bit of terror or unease or disturbance within me. And yes, I’m aware there is a suggested male-male rape scene; no, it didn’t even cause me to flinch in horror for a second (by than I guess I was too comatose from boredom to care). For 109 minutes, I was just bored. I’m willing to accept that the problem is with me, and not the film, but I cannot pretend to have liked something I didn’t. If you disagree, then we disagree.
I should mention that the above movies are not, in my opinion, the worst movies ever made. They are simply a list of movies I didn’t like and appreciate as much as most people I’ve met in my life have. Trust me, if I was to make a list of movies I genuinely hated, these four wouldn’t even crack the top 10 (except maybe for From Dusk Till Dawn, that scene with the Vietnam Vet really pissed me off).
If you’re a woman, there is a decent chance that you have at least one completely platonic male friend, whom you use to probe as much information out off about the inner workings of the masculine psyche. If you’re a guy, chances are that at least one of your platonic female friends has tried to probe you for information on how men think, or how men react to different things concerning their interactions with women. For socially outgoing people, with a wide network of friends, the development of this dynamic is almost unavoidable. So much so, that even for us men who are essentially borderline asocial hermits, we will (by some unexplainable means or another) know at least one woman in our small group of contacts who fits the description above.
I, too, have one such female friend. We don’t actually talk much, but every once in a while I will receive an email, linking me to an article or story (usually authored by some perplexed young/youngish woman), trying to piece together the various factors that make up the heterosexual male mind. And she always does this with the addendum of wanting my “honest thoughts” on the matter. What I’ve learned from these exchanges is that there is apparently an entire market niche of educated, financially stable women, writing magazine articles and books trying to dissect how we men think as a gender (always in relation to our interactions with women), usually with the conclusion reached being (IMO) something between “too obvious to need be stated” and “there is no fucking way that any guy would react that way, ever. ” [I’m sure there must also be a market niche of books and magazines for men to better understand the female mind, but being an insensitive, unemotional male, I simply couldn’t be bothered to look into it, goddammit!]
Anyway, so my friend sends me an email titled “Things That Turn Men Off,” eager to hear my thoughts on the listed items. I figure why keep such important information private, and that women are really reading these things to better understand the male mind, maybe they’d prefer to hear an unfiltered version of what an average guy has to say on the topic (Yes, in this scenario I qualify as the average guy, so I don’t want to hear any lip ’bout it).
The “turn offs” listed below are supposedly collected statements from men about what turned them off most about women (I should note that only the first two are listed in their respective order as they appear in the original list, the rest are my rankings by hilarity).
1. “A women should always keep the bathroom door closed when she’s on the toilet. I think it’s really disgusting to watch a woman on the toilet. And don’t leave feminine pads and stuff around for the guy to look at, either.”
I’m already confused. Is there some sort of trend or epidemic happening amongst women that compels them to take a crap with the bathroom door open? I assume so, otherwise why on earth is this listed as the number one turn off? That issue aside, the second part of the statement is just plain silly. Look dude, pads and tampons aren’t going to kill you. Yes, they’ve been in her vagina. But so have you. They haven’t touched anything you haven’t, is my point here. And since your first-hand encounter wasn’t enough to turn you off, I don’t see how inanimate items could, especially if they still haven’t even been taken out of the packaging yet. Stop being such a wuss about the whole thing, is what I’m essentially trying to say.
2. “Jealousy is always a major turn off. One time, my girl and I were out for a walk, then a long-haired blond walked past us. She immediately accused me of staring at the blond. Even though it turned out to be a guy.”
Yes, but were you staring or not? (You’re avoiding the question, sir.) Jealousy is annoying when it starts to feel like you’re being constantly put on trial over trivial things. However, seeing our girlfriends get a bit jealous every once in a while (because we’re such hot studs that other girls can’t help but check us out), can also be a huge ego-boost. [I assume plenty of women feel similarly about seeing their partners get just a bit jealous every now and then over their desirability to other men.] So, I guess, the only part I would take issue with here is the absolutist usage of “always,” when there are obvious exceptions to be raised.
3. “I don’t like women who don’t have a job. Or bad credit. Or a crazy ex-boyfriend. I like a women who is responsible.”
In what way does this stream of non sequiturs constitute one solid turn-off? As to the points raised, let me ask you this Mr. Responsibility: what if the women can’t find a job on account of the poor economic trends that have been prevalent for the last decade, and as a means of increasing her employability she took out student loans in order to afford college, which incidentally put her in dept and hurt her credit score to the point that she was forced to remain in a bad relationship in lieu of her dire financial situation–and she is now picking up the pieces of her life and trying to move forward only to be slighted at every turn by people who dismiss her worth as a human being due to her past life grievances? Why, in that context, you just look like an judgmentally shallow prick, don’t you? I’m sorry, but I cannot accept the notion that most men (or people, in general) wouldn’t exercise a bit more nuanced thinking in this situation.
4. “I don’t like being humiliated in public. If I said something wrong, you should tell me in private.”
But then how will you learn not to say stupid shit in public? For instance, if you said something absurdly ridiculous, you’re not just embarrassing yourself, you are potentially embarrassing everybody who associates with you–especially the person that’s sleeping with you. Don’t say stupid things, and you won’t get called out on it. Or make a habit of reserving your intellectual gaffes to private conversations. [That goes for you too, ladies. Don’t demand a guy to go along with a bullshit position you’ve taken if it’s demonstratively silly. Accept the ridicule and move on.]
5. “My fear is that after marriage a women will cut off all her hair, gain weight, and stop putting out.”
That’s not a turn-off, it’s a preemptive marriage-phobia, easily cured through a dedication to lifelong bachelorhood. People age, things change (physically and by order of priorities); you will age, you will change (physically and by order of priorities). The only way to avoid having to go through this while being legally bound to another person, is to simply refuse to take the matrimonial plunge altogether. It’s the 21st Century, no one will question your manhood for it (well, no one but your parents…and all your married friends. But they’re all just jealous of the fact that you still get to be a free gazelle, lazily grazing on the fields as much as your heart desires. Yup, that’s what it is).
6. “I don’t like it when the furniture keeps getting rearranged…”
I don’t even need to read the rest of it, because I finally found something I’m 100% in agreement with. If it’s my shit, located in my home (which we don’t share), then please be so kind as to not mess with it. I don’t care what it is, it ain’t yours to move in any way, shape, or form. You want to give home decorating tips for my house, start paying my bills and we’ll talk; until then, mind your own damn business about my property. [Are my past experiences leaking through on this one too much?]
There were more turn-offs listed (a total of 15!), but since many of them seem to be bringing up the same points over and over, I might as well end on a statement I actually agreed with. I did get something out of this list though. We men are petty, we fear change, and sometimes have commitment issues; I get that. But that’s no need to beat us over the head with it by compiling a whole list showcasing it. In fact, doing that is kind of a turn off.