Thursday, February 5, 2009

Let's Hate!

Say it again! With feeling this time!


It is four-forty four and I've been up since one. The melatonin didn't work -- my head was too crowded to allow me to sleep. I've got a bitch of a day ahead of me. Had an ugly fight with the missus yesterday and while my points were right I was still wrong. I've been displaying dick behavior and I'm sick of me.

But you know what? It's time to put the pedal to the metal. Fuck it; I am a dick. The words 'fuck you and everything you stand for' are perpetually cradled on my lips. My feelings about humanity? If it swarms, exterminate. Telling me not to hate is like telling any given musical performer not to dress like a dildo. It's not the only thing they have going for them but where would they be without it?

Stand back, everyone! It's hating time!

I hate stupidity. I've known stupid people that I've been fond of but I've known hermit crabs and guppies I've been fond of in pretty much the same way. Fucking a stupid person is the lowest imaginable form of bestiality and should be punished by death.

I hate people who don't walk right. I know I've bitched about drivers and cyclists before -- well, I hate pedestrians too. I hate groups of people who block the entire sidewalk and don't even flinch as they force you into the gutter. I hate people who walk on the left side of the sidewalk. I hate people who walk against the light. I hate people who walk slowly. I hate people who are in my way!

I hate a lot of Obama's staffing decisions. I know he's doing this for reasons I am not privy to; still, the difference between intelligently working the political game so as to maximize personal effectiveness and whoring yourself out to the shits who put the country in the crapper is a thin one at times.

I hate seafood for the same reason I hate bebop -- my inability to take pleasure in it makes me feel defective.

That goes double for dancing and flirting.

I hate stars and celebrities and heroes. If your face has been in People or Us, why not die in horrible twisting agony? If you need help, just ask.

I hate our dog Roxxie. Her bark hurts and is incessant and my failure to love her the way she loves me fills me with guilt. Also, she's been known to shit in the bed.

I hate guys named Mark. What is it with them? Is it just me or is every goddamned Mark on the planet a trembling puckered asshole in bad need of a wipe? (I did know a Marc who was cool, though.)

I hate people who park across two spaces. What was that phrase I used earlier? Fuck you and everything you stand for -- that was it.

I hate rudeness and discourtesy of any kind. If it were punished by instant death -- maybe a forklift could be involved, maybe some cinder blocks -- the world would be a better place.

Speaking of instant death, I don't know what I hate more; the death penalty or the fact that I'm not allowed to execute at will.

I hate people I don't know. I keep trying to explain this to the missus -- warfare is the only acceptable form of communication with those who are not of the tribe. Any other interaction diminishes one's soul.

That 'we're fighting for your freedom of speech so shut up' line you get from the occasional military dude? I hate it.

I hate parents who feel that they are oh! special bunnies just because they've decided that the perfect pet is a poorly-trained bald chimp, and that this decision entitles them to control the behavior of others. Kids are frequently swell -- but we don't fucking need any more of them, do we? And it's not like we're taking proper care of the ones we've got.

Mothers who love babies so much that they have one after another of the goddamn things get an extra helping of hate with a side order of disgust.

And now that I remember that injudicious fucking is where crowds come from I hate parents even more. Tell you what -- when the world population drops under ten million we can renegotiate.

Of course this particular flavor of hate spills over onto purebred cats and dogs. The part where I said we've already got enough humans? Dogs and cats fit into that as well. When the shelters are empty and you just can't find a dog anywhere then I gues you can start breeding again. Until then, cut it out.

I hate religion. It's got the worst possible combination of characteristics -- it's booooooring and yet it induces people to kill. (And I fucking well regard Marxism as a religion so don't hand me any killer atheist bullshit -- Marxists buy into all kinds of Easter Bunny stuff like the withering away of the state. When you believe in magic, religion is the box in which you are placed. You dipshit.) Worst of all, I hate the smugly religious, the bumper sticker religious -- God said it, I believe it, That settles it. In case of Rapture this car will have no driver. (What a beautiful expression of the teachings of Christ.) Fucking drag those idiots out of their cars and put a fucking bullet in their fucking brains and let them enjoy the afterlife they so look forward to.

Even worse, I hate the fear and unhappiness religion generates in those I love. Ever see someone in tears because they think you've going to hell? There's no graceful way to handle that one.

I hate the smell of cooking liver. Of canned fish. Of cologne.

I hate cute girls. I hate all guys.

I really, really, really hate the kind of guys that cute girls like. The fact that I'm not allowed to change the shape of their faces in order to benefit my own standing is a constant source of bewilderment.

I hate sex. I hate living in this constant stew of frustrated desire. I hate the fact that the lure of breeding is such a motivating factor in my psychology -- that if I didn't feel the need to impress the ladies, particularly the missus, I could comfortably drink myself to death instead of trying in vain to be a halfway-decent human being.

Plus, as I said before, crowds are essentially a venereal disease.

Interestingly, I hate Paris Hilton even though she isn't a cute girl. Hey, if I don't break it up every once in a while I get bored. And it's not so much Paris Hilton I hate as much as the fact that I know who she is.

Any movie with Whoopie Goldberg in it. Robin Williams, too, unless he plays a psycho killer.

Of course I hate every person in congress and on the boards of directors of all major corporations. Let them grow like onions, with their heads in the ground. I mean, have you ever heard these people talk? Jesus!

I hate current standards of feminine beauty -- sinews and silicon do nothing for me. Movies would be a hell of a lot more entertaining if the person who told Christina Ricci to lose weight had been smothered by a housecat in his or her crib.

I hate Tom Bombadil.

I hate comic book continuity -- why can't you just pick up a fucking copy of the X-Men and read an X-Men story? Why do you need fucking maps that show you which order to read the thirty fucking comics that contain this month's episode of the latest over-arcing big event storyline? I gave up on mainstream comics for more than a decade after running across the Merry Marvel Mutant Massacre Map and realizing that I was reading snuff porn for twelve-year olds.

If you understood that, I would like to ask you not to read fucking comics while standing in front of the fucking shelves, thusly blocking the way of paying fucking customers like myself. I hate that.

On the other hand, don't fucking move me out of your way while I'm shopping. I'm gonna be moving on my own in a matter of seconds so fucking wait your fucking turn.

I hate crap that hangs down. Ceiling lamps, trees over sidewalks, that sharp metal edge at the top of the back door of the bus -- the world is not entirely populated by Smurfs and I am fucking sick of head wounds.

I hate not having enough curse words. English can be so limiting.

I hate bad prose, neighbor music, eating out and getting food I could have cooked better myself, the tiny hair that's been trapped in the corner of my mouth for the last month or so, art cars, piercings and tattoos, the words 'nigger' and 'cunt' (which latter, interestingly enough, comes from an attempt to describe people who drive Volvos), modifiers, people who oppose eating horses (when a species is simutaneously unpleasant, loved by girls, and tasty it belongs on my plate), unsustainable agricultural practices, the Fanta Girls, the very idea of clubbing, shag carpet, I said stupid already but it never hurts to be absolutely clear, most of my personality traits including hatefulness, not having access to an accurate skeletal diagram of Deinochierus, the kind of towns that you drive through and sense that there's nothing good to read anywhere, people who walk right at you and expect you to move, barking dogs at night, fucking cats likewise, the limits of human perception, unrequested hallucinations -- especially the one where I smell dogshit two to four hours before I have a dramatic episode, my growing caution in the use of butter and bacon fat, any attempt to control my behavior, not being able to conveniently fix the lives of those I love, having to be the one to do all the fucking mercy killing of animals, the passing of the Skeleteens sodas, being a creepy gross old guy, and being disappointed by the beloved canned meats of my childhood. (There is a word for this emotion in German.)

Mostly, though, I hate insomnia.

4 comments:

Allison Landa said...

Sean, I don't feel bad laughing at (many) parts of this. I know that was at least partially your intent.

Thank you for totally and completely making my morning. I'm linking to this so others can share in the utter and complete fury.

Well done, my friend. See you tonight.

Sean Craven said...

Hate is the new black and the other white meat. It's what's for breakfast.

Zach said...

I hate the fact that, once you get married, you have to convince the missus to have sex. I put a LOT more effort into getting laid now than I did before I got married, which seems like the reverse of what should be true. I also hate religion. I was the "victim" of an attempted faith healing.

I'll have to blog about it sometime. It was a trip.

Sean Craven said...

Oh, dude. Ohhhh, dude.

The ugly fight I mentioned at the top? That's what it was about. So I'm feeling your hate.