Number Seventeen

– Things That Piss Me Off –

Greetings from the Heretic Ranch! I am the Cowboy Heretic and I will be your docent as we trek through the corridors of mirth and mayhem, the objective and the subjective, the profound and the pointless.

It was my intention this month to write a column worthy of the arriving Autumn, a lighthearted allegory, something one or two steps removed from my typical Heretic’s musings about the metaphysics of existence. As Lady Fortuna would have it, I succeeded quite well in straying from the ethereal but not in the way originally intended. The results of my efforts are to be found in that which follows, a coarse and singularly inelegant polemic quite distant from anything that could be accurately described as “lighthearted.” Normally, fair reader, I might beg your indulgence for such an unbecoming and uncharacteristic exhibition of personal rancor but, the point is, I really don’t give a frak.

Which leads me to the first thing that pisses me off. To those dimwitted denizens of the world’s soft white underbelly who feel that they have some Goddess-given right to never be offended, I say, blow it out your oh-so-hypersensitive bunghole! You have no such right, real or imagined, constitutional or otherwise. In the first place, the greater portion of what you find offensive is likely due to your own erroneous perception and perspective. Squealing like a piglet at the slightest affront to one’s tender sensibilities serves only to distract when something of actual significance requires attention. Think the boy who cried “wolf.” If another’s thoughtless, heartless, malicious, careless, needless, or humorous (even) methods and/or means of expression aren’t libelous or slanderous to you directly and don’t violate your REAL rights to your life, liberty, or property, then man-up, for cryin’ out loud! If you be female and subject to bouts of such abject nincompoopery, all the more shame on you! I was taught that the “fairer” sex was always, in reality, the stronger of the two. Lead by example, sisters!

It pisses me off that, because a minority of knuckle-dragging goons stuck in the 12th century see fit to impose a dysmorphic Dark Ages view of their preferred religion on the rest of the world by means of the bullet and the bomb, I am required to run a veritable gauntlet of idiocy just to gain access to the passenger cabin of even the tiniest commercial airliner. I am now expected to remove my cowboy hat and take off my boots, empty my pockets of any potentially questionable items, take my laptop out of its carry case, then place everything not attached to my person in separate bins to pass though an x-ray and sniffer machine before I am ordered to march stocking-footed through the upright metal detector that inevitably sounds a loud klaxon at my passing. Should I make it through the TSA gendarmes without being flagged for further (and even more invasive) probing, I can pull on my boots and collect my things while being treated to the sight of an 85 year old wheelchair-bound grandmother from Sheboygan or perhaps a diaper-clad infant in his mother’s arms being subjected to intense scrutiny because we “don’t want to be accused of profiling.” A security mindset that focuses on searching for weapons instead of identifying potential terrorists is an insane and impotent policy created by bureaucratic minds capable of thinking no deeper than zero-tolerance polices and voluminous regulations.

While I’m at it, I’m pissed off that, in a nation founded on individualism and the desire to succeed or fail on one’s own merits, I look around me and see government encroaching into all areas of my life and expanding each and every day. Privacy is fast becoming a relic of some bygone era. Rather than promoting greater liberty and personal responsibility, the Republi-crats see fit to tax beyond reason, spend without prudence, and consider only that which is necessary to maintain their death-grip on power until the next election cycle. And the sheep willingly return these cads and thieves to their ivory towers and petition their feudal masters to take care of their every need. The only thing the mandarins ask in return for granting an illusion of security is a willingness to part with just a little more freedom. It should be remembered that freedom willingly abdicated is freedom lost in perpetuity. Fiction becomes fact, dreams transmogrify into nightmares. Good lord, I’m seeing 1984, Animal Farm, Brave New World, and Atlas Shrugged all coming to life in front of my eyes…

Paying $55 dollars to fill up the gas tank which not that many years ago cost a scant $15 to fill REALLY pisses me off, especially since the amount of money I earn has increased at nowhere near the same rate during the same time frame. I am equally enraged with the monoliths in Detroit that squawk about their inability to create truly energy efficient vehicles at affordable prices. “It can’t be done,” they say, yet a 40 year old seventh grade dropout living and working in Wichita, Kansas can (and does) modify Hummers (frakkin’ HUMMERS!) to get 60 MILES TO THE GALLON! (This is not some unverifiable urban legend I am repeating here. Check out THIS LINK or do a Google search on “Johnathan Goodwin” to learn more.)

Enough, enough! I find it disheartening that I could with no effort continue my meandering tirade with an unabated fervor and no dearth of subjects about which to grouse. My spirit is taxed and my will bruised. Somebody fetch me an Italian cappuccino before I kvetch again…

Flying Red Horse

Published in: on September 19, 2010 at 1:56 pm  Leave a Comment  

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