DARKEST DAWNS, ODDLY-GROWTHED SPECIMENS!
It is with great plesiosaur that I give you a survival tool for the coming cold weeks, ‘CAUSE IT’S PLAYLIST TIME!!
I don’t terribly care for the socially-established norm of “letting dicks be dicks” as you’ve probably read a time or two before in my pieces, but my aggressiveness toward the issue really does extend to the willingness to engage in verbal medieval siege-ry with absolutely anyone who wants to say shit like “Lone individuals never make a difference in the grand scheme of things”, or white guys who say shit like “I don’t, like, sympathize with the Charlottesville protesters, but I GET where they are coming from, I mean, I’m one of those guys”.
WHEN DID NAZISM BECOME EVEN SLIGHTLY ACCEPTABLE?
IN WHAT WAR DID THE WORLD LOSE TO GERMANY?
HOW THE HELL DO THEY THINK THEY WOULD SURVIVE IN COMBAT IF THEIR UNIFORM IS BIKE HELMETS AND WHITE POLO SHIRTS?
That “white guy says shit like” example I used there; Not one month ago in my very place of employment. This girthy tall dwarf of bitch walks in with eyes like milk saucers, only breathing through his mouth (with gusto, as ya do), managed to sputter out some “aouhgasoru”-esque word in response to my “How’s it going, man?”. He then spent the better part of an hour mistaking every band that came on for Slayer, headbanging his dandruff all over my display cases, leave big greasy goof-muppet hand prints on literally EVERYTHING.
Sidebar, homies. After working in this industry for a while, you can tell if someone is heavy user almost 99% of the time before they barely get in the door. It’s written in the lines on their face, the discoloration of their skin, and probably the simplest tell, what THEY think they look like. Apparently looking like you had to literally sell the shirt off your back to afford the man-purse daintily strung across your shoulder is hot this fall. Anyways back to my XXL Chuck Norris story, where he has no karate skills and is short.
As Jabba the Rutt rounded the back end of the shop he overhead my coworker and I discussing some political issues, drifting from the continuation of the Charlottesville protests, to the likelihood of impeachment for Trump, and even touched upon the likely event that in the next 5 years someone is going to get their nuke on. Some archaic gear in Stinkerbell’s walnut of a brain felt the need to be a part of said conversation, and not only did he choose the introductory sentence of, “Can you really blame them?”. Needless to say, neither my guy or I were really ready to instantaneously pounce on “2 Extra Sides of Fries” in case he was going to follow up his statement with any of the few following actions that would have made it “okay”:
- A sarcastic “They’re so oppressed!”
- “This isn’t a Nazi safe-space?”
- “Because I sure can!”
Suffice it to say that Nacho Library did NOT choose any of the aforementioned options, and instead chose possibly THE FUCKIN’ WORST FOLLOW-UP SENTENCE OF ALL TIME: (hmu Kanye West if you wanna contest dis)
“I’m not a racist, but it’s just obvious that through genetics and heritage that we are simply superior as a people,” he said as he unabashedly shoved excess stomach into his sweatpants, “and why should I be targeted just for the colour of my skin?”
Couldn’t do it. Couldn’t hold it in. I cocked my head back and bellowed like a king hearing that my enemy would rather surrender than be slaughtered.
Bear – “Where ya from, bud? As in before your family came to Canada.”
The creature which I’m pretty sure was made of discarded John Goodman DVD’s – “My grandparents both came over from Scotland right at the beginning of the Second World War”.
Bear, again – “Then they were spared from the onslaught of almost THIRTY German bombing runs that blanketed North Scotland during The Blitz. By marginalizing torch-carrying psychos to an acceptable group just because they are white, you continue to be a detriment to the continuation of our species.”
The creature, now resembling and exuding an odor not dissimilar to actual poop – “These guys aren’t German’s though.”
All I could do is give him the look I reserve for people directly before we need to throw ‘bows. It is a combination of “Did I just see you kick a kitten?”, and “That’s my bread and butter you’re fucking with”. Fortunately for Albus DumbandPoor, we exchanged very few more words before he went on his marry, blind, racist way.
AND SO UNTO YOU READERS I SAY THIS:
Don’t let people just get away with shit. Opinions are one thing, but we all grew up with at least some integral idea of right and wrong, didn’t we? We know it would be better to save a live baby in a fire than a viable embryo. Your friends could be hurting themselves and you won’t say anything? You looked at your phone HOW MANY TIMES during dinner with your family? Again, my opinion is only implicit to me, but I just think there are some things that should be social “law”. All it takes is holding ourselves to accountable for who we interact with, beyond that, hope that the people outside your reach have someone just like you to do the same for them. Be good neighbors, be good friends, be good people, and for god sake, don’t let being a Neo-Nazi be acceptable. Give them a fresh hell to worry about.