We go way back, dear reader, so I don’t have to tell you that I really don’t give a shit about most things. But I’ve only recently discovered the truly impressive power of telling people that you don’t give a shit about their cause. It’s magical.
It was a couple of weeks ago, and I was coming out of some grocery store somewhere just pissed off. I don’t even remember why, exactly, but I was in a mood, which is more than enough to keep most normal people away. But not this one idiot, who was outside begging for money for some high school athletic program or some such. He launched into his tired spiel, and I waved him off without breaking stride: “I don’t give a shit.” The look on his face was priceless. More importantly, he instantly shut up. Which is, typically, the goal. It was so effective (and also oh so satisfying), I decided to deploy it automatically no matter who was asking for what. I’ve since told 3-4 people who have asked me for money or signatures on a petition that I don’t give a shit, whatever it was they were championing. Of course, I do actually care about some things in the world, and some of the causes I said I don’t give a shit about are actually good and noble causes. But the cause is not really what I’m commenting on. My comment is directed at the person who actually woke up that morning and decided that they would go out and stop strangers on the street in the middle of their already busy day (i.e., me) and hassle them for money or time for some nebulous third-party cause which is unlikely to be at all changed by my dollar or my signature. More darkly, though, is that I have, in the past, been polite to these people, as most people are. Even when declining to donate/sign, most people smile, and nicely say no. Some even apologize (for what I don’t know, but they do). And more often than not, the person begging for money or signatures will keep going with their nonsense, which nobody appreciates. A flippantly dismissive “I don’t give a shit,” shuts the whole game down right there and then. The best is when you’re walking with a group of people who may or may not know you particularly well, and you get approached as a group. The others in the group will absolutely not want to be seen a some cold, uncaring, heartless bastard, especially not in front of each other, so they’ll start to smile and stop and listen…and they will have absolutely no idea how to process your “I don’t give a shit,” as you walk on without them, leaving them there to have to play the nice game with some do-gooder who is allegedly collecting money for whatever cause. They might think you’re a horrible person. I’m sure they thing that of me. But guess what? Yep: I don’t give a shit about that either. Seriously…it’s a matter of time before you figure out that I’m a horrible person…I’m just doing you a favor by getting you to that conclusion sooner rather than later.

N.P.: “Freaks Me Out (Blue Stahli Remix) – Collide

As promised…whiskey, wings, and writing today. And all three went pretty well and yielded good results. The writing certainly would have gone better if it had been raining today. But no…no rain in Anhedonia at all during February. March isn’t looking very promising either. I kind of hate this wretched desert.

N.P.: “Jim Jones” – SKYND

It’s always amazing how much better my mood is after I’ve gotten a decent amount of sleep. I pretty much Rockette-kicked my way to the shower this morning. Didn’t get much writing done today, but it was nonetheless productive. Which means that now I need to go write. So go write I shall. Have a good night, dear reader.

N.P.: “Crash and Burn” – Overseer

Can’t believe it’s been 15 years. Things have been far too quiet since you’ve been gone.
The silence will be broken soon.

N.P.: “Lawyers, Guns, and Money” – Warren Zevon

What’s crackin’, attractive reader. Got some work done on the slasher novel today…still no slashing. But I’ve been going on two hours of sleep today, so I have to be brief here and get my ass to bed.

N.P.: “Platz Eins – Video Version” – Lindemann

I declined to participate in a government round table on bullying for the second time this year. I have the solution to bullying, but these people do not want to hear it. They think they do, but they really don’t.
When I was in Seattle, some hippy idiots had set up a table outside the grocery store soliciting money to stop bullying. I got into it with them. I’ve run into a few such wrong-headed people in California, and I’ve shared my opinion with them. Stopping bullying requires no money. And any solution you seek that requires money will not work, and will thus be a total waste of time. The only solution effective solution to bullying…the one thing that will stop bullying permanently is overwhelming, egregiously disproportionate violent response.
I was bullied during 4th grade by a kid in my class who was about a foot taller than me. I told my parents. There were meetings with my teacher. The bully in question was talked to by the administration. In 5th grade, the bully and I were placed in separate classes. Still the bullying continued. Additional talks were had. Yet still, the bullying continued. Having done everything “the legal way” up to that point, my dad finally took me aside (away from my mom), and told me that obviously the Powers That Be were impotent, and that I was going to have to end this myself. The only specific instruction he gave me was this: “The next time he messes with you, punch him as hard as you can in the throat. Then do whatever comes naturally.” Which, in hindsight, was probably rather dangerous advice to give me. But I took it. So the following week, when the bully (I do actually remember his name) started messing with me, I did something I’d never done before: I ran. Since bullies tend to be rather dim intellectually and overblown egotistically, he mistook my “flight” for fear, which he was eager to exploit. I ran into a full sized wooden playhouse (it was basically a two-room Tuff Shed) on one end of the playground. Expecting to find me cowering in the corner, the bully was rather shocked to find me standing there with a punch already thrown directly to his throat. He dropped, clutching his throat, instantly panicking at no longer being able to breathe. I knew that that was enough to end my bullying problem, but I felt a responsibility to ensure that this idiot would never again even think about bullying anyone, so I did “what came naturally.” Then I calmly returned to class. About 15 minutes later, there was commotion in my classroom as other students got up to watch two staff members help carry that kid to the office where the nurse was. I stayed in my seat, and never said a word. And no one, no teacher or staff member, ever asked me about it.
I learned a lot about the world and about myself that day. One very clear lesson I learned was to not waste time being tolerant…that is beneficial to no one.
I’ve been in exactly two physical fights as an adult. They both started with someone else throwing a punch at me (being bullies), and they both ended with the puncher limping/crawling into some public place (a liquor store and a coffee shop) and pleading for someone to call the cops to save them. And in both instances I pulled them out of said public place and continued their education. It was an important lesson they were learning, and I had to be certain that they would remember.
Anyway, I just don’t think the hippies organizing the government round table are ready for my solution, so I hope they stop asking.

N.P.: “Violent Mood Swings Iwo Jesus” – Stabbing Westward

The weather (or lack thereof) is starting to get to me. Everything is just so maddeningly static. Are you familiar with the doldrums, dear reader, in it’s original nautical definition? Of course you are, dear reader…sorry, sometimes I forget to whom I’m talking. Anyway, that is what this feels like…but I feel it physically, and even more psychologically. Just like a sailing ship stuck on windless waters, so am I just sitting here, helpless to move in any direction until conditions in the atmosphere change. It’s like living on the set of “The Fall of the House of Usher.” Or a Beckett play.
Anyway, I’m going to try to power through and get a couple of pages down, uncooperative universe be damned.

N.P.: “Please Mr. Gravedigger” – David Bowie

A weird day followed closely by a weird night. Not good weird or bad weird…just kinda weird. I did see a meteor tonight, which was simply bitchin’. It appeared when it entered the atmosphere and then seemed to hang there. I looked directly at it for several seconds before it suddenly broke up and disappeared. Also, I was going 92 mph.
Anyway, I’m gonna see if I can knock out a few profound truths in these goddamn books, and then maybe sleep.

N.P.: “Love Like Blood” – Dool

Well, today was rather a domestic day. No idea how normal people do that every day. Just dreadful. There were both whiskey and wings, though, which ended up being a day-saver.

N.P.: “The Devil (Didn’t Make Me Do It)” – Twin Temple