nature combine like an after-school special with Captain Planet to reinforce how miserable we all feel when we’re young. This is another reason why humans are dipshits sometimes. Because we don’t have a handle on our own feelings at that age, we couldn’t care less about other people’s feelings. So we belittle and berate until those people are broken and banished to the corners of the gym, just biding their time until graduation. Hopefully they make it that far. But bullying has reached an all-time hateful high these days. There are swarms of disturbed children just waiting to pounce on any and every weakness. They are giving into the baser side of malice, set for destruction and a craving for flesh. They wouldn’t know what to do with compassion if it were sticking in their craws. These physical reverberations ricochet across the years, doing damage no one can believe, all because someone dared to dress like a dick or because their family was poor and had to shop at Walmart.
There are savages among us who feel no empathy, and you got the obscene knack and bags to try to suggest to me we should give a fuck about what fucking clothes J-Lo is wearing? How about you take a deep breath, hold it, then plunge your face into your own crotch at a violent speed and angle in the hopes you eventually fuck your own face off? Can you do that for me? You forgot to do that today.
By “you” I don’t mean anyone reading this book. Remember, we’re talking about the Faceless They—the shit heels just off camera who are busy doing the most injustice. No, not you—you are my peeps! We’re all good. Those other fuckholes can go eat their young for all I care. See?! Fashion makes me P-I-S-T PISSED! I want to smash shit against bricks or walls orcoconuts—COCONUTS ARE HARD AND THEY HURT A LOT! Fuck, I’m on a tangent again. That’s what happens when you hate everything. But I don’t hate you—remember that. I’ll bring it up again later just in case.
Jerry Seinfeld did a bit that discussed when we would all end up in the one-design space suits of the future. I’m paraphrasing, but he said, “In every movie that is set in the future or in space, it appears we’re all wearing the same silver one-piece jumpsuits.” He never really gave an answer when he thought that would happen, but I’ve been thinking. Most of the Earth looks like a bunch of hard-ons in different clothing today. If we’re all going to look like tool bags anyway, maybe we should all start dressing the same. Is that too bold a Communist statement to make? It’s
in
the movies—and movies
never
lie—so why not just get to it? It would certainly alleviate some of my headaches. Your wardrobe budget would
plummet
. You’d be forced to remember people’s names because we’re all dressed alike. Maybe the differences that force us apart would become a nonissue, seeing as we’d all be in uniforms and there would be no assumptions about religion, class, or tax bracket.
But, of course, we’re only human.
All it would take is one friendship pin on the lapel of your space suit.
One person at work will notice it and ask about it. The next day that person will come back with two friendship pins on. Then four people will come in covered in them. Within a week the pins would become bracelets. Within a month Macy’s would be nut-deep in a Fall Friendship Sale. Paris would come up with a spring line for friendship chains that would tie people to each other. By year’s end the friendship pins and bracelets would be obsolete. In their stead would be love knots, grievance flowersfor collars, and malice tape that you would only wear at family reunions. Then the real revolution would begin. First we’d roll up the sleeves on our silver unitards. Then we’d tight-roll our already tight cuffs. Then we’d cut off the legs. Then we’d only cut off one arm (so stupid …). By the time two years had passed, people would be talking about why we were all in the same
There are savages among us who feel no empathy, and you got the obscene knack and bags to try to suggest to me we should give a fuck about what fucking clothes J-Lo is wearing? How about you take a deep breath, hold it, then plunge your face into your own crotch at a violent speed and angle in the hopes you eventually fuck your own face off? Can you do that for me? You forgot to do that today.
By “you” I don’t mean anyone reading this book. Remember, we’re talking about the Faceless They—the shit heels just off camera who are busy doing the most injustice. No, not you—you are my peeps! We’re all good. Those other fuckholes can go eat their young for all I care. See?! Fashion makes me P-I-S-T PISSED! I want to smash shit against bricks or walls orcoconuts—COCONUTS ARE HARD AND THEY HURT A LOT! Fuck, I’m on a tangent again. That’s what happens when you hate everything. But I don’t hate you—remember that. I’ll bring it up again later just in case.
Jerry Seinfeld did a bit that discussed when we would all end up in the one-design space suits of the future. I’m paraphrasing, but he said, “In every movie that is set in the future or in space, it appears we’re all wearing the same silver one-piece jumpsuits.” He never really gave an answer when he thought that would happen, but I’ve been thinking. Most of the Earth looks like a bunch of hard-ons in different clothing today. If we’re all going to look like tool bags anyway, maybe we should all start dressing the same. Is that too bold a Communist statement to make? It’s
in
the movies—and movies
never
lie—so why not just get to it? It would certainly alleviate some of my headaches. Your wardrobe budget would
plummet
. You’d be forced to remember people’s names because we’re all dressed alike. Maybe the differences that force us apart would become a nonissue, seeing as we’d all be in uniforms and there would be no assumptions about religion, class, or tax bracket.
But, of course, we’re only human.
All it would take is one friendship pin on the lapel of your space suit.
One person at work will notice it and ask about it. The next day that person will come back with two friendship pins on. Then four people will come in covered in them. Within a week the pins would become bracelets. Within a month Macy’s would be nut-deep in a Fall Friendship Sale. Paris would come up with a spring line for friendship chains that would tie people to each other. By year’s end the friendship pins and bracelets would be obsolete. In their stead would be love knots, grievance flowersfor collars, and malice tape that you would only wear at family reunions. Then the real revolution would begin. First we’d roll up the sleeves on our silver unitards. Then we’d tight-roll our already tight cuffs. Then we’d cut off the legs. Then we’d only cut off one arm (so stupid …). By the time two years had passed, people would be talking about why we were all in the same
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