I Heard Them Say That The Meek Shall Reign On Earth...

“The thing is - fear can't hurt you any more than a dream.”

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Anyhoo, it’s odd that shit’s opening up again, eh? One of the weirdest aspects of it is that it seems like a good percentage of the population is justifiably wigged the fuck out by the idea of a bunch of people crowding into a spot, thereby undoing any potential good that the quarantine process has yielded so far...apparently the curve is somewhat flattening in New York? Is that right? Let me google it real quick.

Hold on.

Okay, I read half of a snarky article by Dave Eggers, and then I looked at another article that said that smokers are less likely to be affected by COVID 19, which seems...wrong? But I guess I don’t actually know. I’m not a doctor, but that shit just seems very wrong to me on an intuitive level. Anyway, then I read an article that says that YES, the curve in NY is flattening but only in wealthier zones. So in Manhattan shit’s getting better, but in the Bronx, not so much. 

This makes sense, since God hates the poor and has never stopped proving that every single day for thousands and thousands of years, but it doesn’t really make me feel any better about the notion that places like Georgia and Missouri and Texas are just deciding that they’re bored of the virus so fuck it, it’s over now. 

I have to reiterate this point again: I’m not a doctor, but I don’t think that’s how viruses work. I don’t think they care if you’re bored or if you’re scared or you don’t believe in them or anything. Apparently they only care if you’re poor. But I’m digressing to a dangerous degree. Where was I? 

Oh, right. Some people are wigging the fuck out. I’m sure by now most of us have watched a sitcom or seen a commercial for that upcoming game show called Ultimate Tag or Extreme Tag or whatever and just cringed. “THAT’S TOO FUCKING CLOSE, YO!” you’ve probably yelled at your screen, or at least thought. It’s weird, but the idea of (not) being close to people has kind of become a weird Pavlovian trigger for a lot of people, even through the distancing portals of time and television. But on the other hand, there’s a huge swath of the country that thinks this whole thing is a joke, a hoax, overblown, stupid, not worth worrying about, etc.

In a way, it’s kind of a dream come true. If this virus had any sort of soul, it would just kill one half of us and the other half could laugh and laugh at how stupid the other ones were and we’d be out of this ideological sectarian cold war that we’re currently embroiled in, but alas, though I’m no doctor, I don’t think viruses work like that either. Maybe I’m wrong. Who knows?

I saw a Tweet today from a guy claiming to be a marine (although he seems maybe kinda like a blowhard dipshit that pretends to be a marine on social media...which... weird thing to do) and here’s the tweet:

Um...I don’t know how we got into a situation where being cautious about your health became the kind of thing that strangers yell at you in public about, but here we are. If nothing else, marine, (if you are, in fact a marine), why the FUCK are you walking down the left side of the aisle at Wal Mart? Quarantine or not, virus or not, aren’t you supposed to be an AMERICAN, man? Isn’t that what all those flags in your twitter name imply?

Do you know why we drive on the right side here in America? BECAUSE THE BRITISH DROVE ON THE LEFT AND FUCK THEM IS WHY (it’s actually a little  more complicated than this and it also involves the Teamsters and Henry Ford,  but whatever. I doubt he’s reading this).

I’m not even gonna get into your lack of mask, your wanton destruction of main street USA by deciding to shop at a store that puts profit margins ahead of everything else (here’s a link about how great Wal Mart is for the red-blooded American economy), the yelling and cursing at strangers, the anger management issues that are just dripping out of this tweet, or the obvious lack of military discipline that said outburst implies, but you can’t even have the good old fashioned American decency to walk down the right side of the aisle at Wal Mart??? You should be ashamed. Fucking disgusting. I expect that kind of thing from a fucking simpering, drunken confused draft dodging Englishman or Guyanese, but not you, marine.  

So, ummmmm….yeah. The world is changing and splintering and breaking and the smoke is starting to waft through the cracks in the crust and it’s  making it a little hard to see clearly. Maybe this marine dude is right, maybe we’re all being spineless fucks. All I know is that it seems like there’s a lot of dead people and sad doctors out there and I feel like hanging out in close quarters in public spaces (even ones as important as Supercuts and Chili’s and whatever else these weirdos are so desperate to get back to) has kinda gone out of style a little, no? Or, at least maybe it should? Just for a while?

Oh shit. Okay. Whew. I was worried that this was gonna be a lot of bullshit prattling on about viruses, but here we done stumbled into something good. Let’s talk about some other stuff that either has gone or should go out of fashion.

Enjoy. Up first:

Mom Fucking Jokes

It’s come to my attention recently that I haven’t made any “I fucked your mom” jokes in a while, which, in a way is funny, since there was a time in my life (albeit long, long ago) when this was sort of the main vein of humor that my immediate circle of friends traded in. I haven’t made any jokes like this in a great while for a few reasons, but I think the main one is that I’m just too old for them. Now, that’s not to say that I’ve become more mature, or that the notion of me making a well crafted “hey slingnuts, I sure do love banging your mom” type comment would really surprise too many people.

No, I’m too old for these kinds of jokes because at my age, the odds of the mom in question being dead are getting higher than the odds of them being alive and I just don’t want to do that stupid dance where I make a dumb joke and then someone goes “my mom’s dead,” and I say “ah, I’m sorry,” and they smile and then I go, “wait, so she’s not dead?” and they say “Nah, she is but it’s cool. I get it,” and then I feel like a total dick and the whole thing is awkward. It’s not as awkward as ACTUALLY fucking someone’s mom and then telling them about it, of course, but it’s still weird. 

I’m probably not gonna win father of the year anytime soon or anything, but I try to keep it somewhat cool with my kids. Seems to me though, if you really hated your own children or stepchildren, a well placed “yeah, I fuck your mom” could do some serious permanent damage. But what do I know? Anyway, this one’s getting weird. Let’s move on to:

The Actual Temperature 

So, you wake up in the morning. You check the weather on your phone, or you turn on the TV and the weatherman tells you it’s 40 degrees. “Ah, 40 degrees. I’m familiar with that temperature,” you may think. But then, they tell you that the ‘real feel’ with the wind chill is 16 degrees. Oh, word? So the first number is just some sort of “if you drop a feather and an anvil in a vacuum they’ll fall at the same rate” bullshit theoretical thing that has no bearing whatsoever on what I’m about to experience out in the elements, while the second number is the one that represents how the atmosphere actually feels to my body? Huh. Wild. Hey, I got a wacky idea, how about you lead with that second fucking number, man? 

I sincerely cannot imagine a situation in which I’d prefer to have the “actual temperature” reported to me. It means literally less than nothing. If it feels like it’s 65 degrees, it’s fucking 65 degrees. I don’t care if there’s some lab with dew filled beakers and balloons on the ends of weather vane style pinwheels and bubbling cauldrons and shit where they’ve somehow removed the human being element from the weather and determined that “well actually, it’s 79 degrees.” HOW? WHY? And most importantly Who fuuuuuuucking cares? I know I just fucked with about 50 percent of the population for not believing in science, but shit like this makes me understand why they don’t. I mean, news doesn’t get much more fake than getting told it’s one temperature and then feeling that it’s another one with your own skin and then being told “no. What we told you actually is the real temperature. We’re right. You just don’t understand.” Fucking nerds. Do I need to bring a hat that covers my ears or not? Sheesh.

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Urban Legends

Since we’re talking misinformation and so on, I’d be remiss not to bring up the original bad boys of the genre, the urban legend. I’m not talking about bullshit like how the old lady at the end of the street may actually be a witch or something, because shit, man, you never know. She might be. I’m talking about the waaaay dumber ones, like, for example, the notion that there are perverts out there putting razorblades and drugs and shit in Halloween candy, for example. 

How in the blazes did this get any credence anywhere ever? There may be a razorblade in an apple? Yo, a razorblade is like an inch and a half long by half an inch wide, and in order to insert it into an apple you’d need to break the skin and the whole thing would be pretty obvious and if you bite into that shit anyway, you maybe kinda deserve to have no tongue. Sorry. 

And that’s just for starters. First of all, the big crime here is giving out fucking apples on halloween. Second, that’s not how creepy perverts work. Nobody just wantonly puts needles into caramel and then (presumably) beats off to the idea of some kid getting a cut up mouth several miles away in the comfort of their home. If that’s your shit, you’re gonna want to see it go down. If you want to see a kid eat stickpins and you’re a maniac, you’re gonna drive by the playground, toss the kid of your choice into your van, chain ‘em to the radiator and feed em stickpins or whatever it is you feel like you’ve gotta do  so you can watch them suffer, right?  

As far as I can tell, there is simply no upside in the twisted sado-pervert community to filling up candy with barbs. It just doesn’t happen. If you don’t believe me, you should google it. In fact, it has never ever once happened ever. The only times anything like that has ever been reported is when someone’s OD’d and the family is looking to avoid the embarrassment or criminal repercussions of said OD, and those cases have all been solved pretty easily, as, ya know, it’s pretty hard to stuff an 8 ball worth of coke into a tootsie pop and then accidentally OD on it. But that also brings me to another point:

Namely, who the FUCK would be just giving away drugs like that? To kids? Kids aren’t gonna enjoy those expensive ass drugs, man. It makes no sense. I’m no forensic mindhunter or anything but it seems to me that if you know how to get drugs on the black market, you probably don’t make a habit of secretly and wantonly giving those drugs away.

What, pray tell, is the upside to that? It doesn’t happen, and yet every year cops have to do this thing where they bust out an x ray machine in some park so a bunch of worried ass nerd parents can rest assured that the dumbest, most improbably stupid crime isn’t occuring in little Traxxxon’s candy bag. Meanwhile, all the cops are in the park and some gang of dudes is cavalierly breaking into houses, fucking old ladies and stealing their pearls (I assume).

On a slightly different, but related topic, I went to school with a girl who was once masturbating with a hotdog and it got stuck in her pussy and she had to go to the doctor to get it removed. Oh shit! She went to your high school too? What are the fucking odds? That’s crazy!

This urban legend strain is KINDA different, because there’s little doubt in my mind that something like this has probably actually happened to someone (though if I had to guess I’d suspect the person with the hotdog in them was male and probably out of high school), and also this is something that kids hear and then just believe because it’s so salacious. And I get it. Hell, I believed it myself at the time. I still remember the girl’s name who theoretically did this at my school, and I feel guilty as hell just considering that I still equate this obviously untrue tale of woe with her person. I don’t know for sure, but I’d guess this one persists to this day, and that my son now goes to school with a similarly filled-with-the-legend-of-the-hotdogs person. 

Now, full disclosure, if it weren’t for the fact that this is gross character assassination and there’s probably no one who needs that kinda shit less than pubescent girls, I’d maybe think there was a germ of something funny involved. Ah! Don’t leave! Where are you going! Stop! Let me explain:

You know how the Green Lantern isn’t a guy, it’s a job? Like, you get the ring and you become the Green Lantern for your part of the universe or whatever (which, it’s kinda like being a cop. You chase bad people, maintain order, wear rings, get stupid barbed wire tattoos, no one worth a shit respects you etc). It’s not like being Spider Man, who’s a guy. It’s like being the editor of the Daily Bugle. It’s a job. When this one is gone, another must take his place. You get what I’m driving at here.

There is something funny about an eternal chain of people saddled with an hilariously unbelievable weird sex story in literally every school in all of America, at all times, for the last 100 years. That’s so mind-bendingly weird that there’s something kind of cool about it. I cannot stress enough that I don’t like this actual thing: I don’t like the hotdog story, I don’t like the involvement of the doctor. I don’t like that it targets young women and really not so subtly shames everyone involved for daring to try to enjoy any sort of sexual pleasure. I don’t like any of that one bit. But I guess what I’m saying is all that stuff is like the real feel of this urban legend. In a shocking twist, it turns out I’m into the actual temperature of this particular urban legend. The one that ignores the human component completely.

See how fucking stupid that is? Stay inside. Be good to each other. Subscribe to this if you somehow, against all odds, enjoyed this. I’ll be back later in the week, so stay with me, and until then, be cool.

Peace, y’all.