Thursday, September 28, 2006

Hate: Hypocritical Jesus Freaks

I could certainly have made this entry a general hatred of hypocrites. It bugs the tar out of me when people say one thing and do another, although I probably wouldn't be opposed to a hypocritical racist now that I think about it. I'm also not a big fan of politics and general ass-kissing and most of the folks involved in both activities are hypocrites in my opinion. They'd just as soon stab you in the ass as kiss it.

So my hang-up with Jesus Freaks (or Bible Thumpers, if you prefer) is that it's pretty easy to be a hypocrite when you're holding yourself up so high (and/or mighty). In western Michigan where I live, there are boatloads of Jesus Freaks. I got no problem with that. If you dig your savior or god, you go right ahead and dig him/her. I don't care if it's the same one that I dig - you're entitled - thanks to that good old US constitution which covers the bases pretty well. I think both John Lennon and Rodney King had it right and I generally have a live-and-let-live approach to life. Like I said in my People Watching post, I dig watching people in their natural habitat and I generally find people highly interesting albeit irritating.

So, because of the copious amounts of Jesus Freaks in little old Grand Haven, MI, there are just that many more hypocrites. Again, it all comes back to holding yourself to a standard that really only one guy could maintain. He is my savior of choice and I dig the stuff he did - especially that whole nailed to the cross thing. That's hardcore. So lots of other people dig JC too and they try to follow his lead on being a good citizen. Cool. Good. Go for it. But, before you go spouting off about what he did and what you do, you better be squeaky clean, my brother.

Here's an example for you: I used to work with a guy who was a big fan the Son of God and did the whole bible study thing at lunch and the WWJD bracelets and the whole bit. He could rattle off bible passages like I do with lines from Fast Times at Ridgemont High. The problem with this dude is that anytime we went on some company sponsored event he was all about taking advantage of expense reports. He packed a PB&J sandwich that his dutiful wife made at home when we were at the office but when we had to go somewhere he would start off with a salad and soup, then move into a big steak for the entree, followed by dessert and a drink or two. What would Jesus do? I don't know, but I don't think he would screw the company out of $50 for lunch! Believe me, I'm not hung up on letting the company hook you up every once in a while but that's ME! I'm not the one trying to come off as a super-duper virtuous citizen here. I am what I am and sometimes that ain't too pretty. I'm SUPPOSED to hose the company, he isn't!

So this is not a rant on religion. I'd prefer that you didn't blow up me or any of my friends and family with a roadside bomb in the name of religion but if that's what you believe, that's what you believe. Not my style, but whatever. Something tells me that I'm not going to change your mind, even though we Christians are supposed to do some of that. For that matter, I dare say that any Christian who is intolerant of fill-in-the-blank is a hypocrite. (Being intolerant of stupid people doesn't count.) This IS a rant on making sure you are really as upstanding as you say you are.

Sorry for such a heavy topic today, gentle reader. It was prompted by somebody that is normally reciting chapters and verses but one day this week was cussing and swearing like Artie Lange on a roll with Crazy Alice. I'm no religious scholar (not really a scholar of any kind, actually) so I'm not going to get into a religious/philosophy discussion here. I'll just offer a little bit of free advice: JC had some pretty big sandals to fill so you'd better be up to the challenge, especially that deal about casting stones.

To the untrained eye, it would appear as though I, too, am throwing stones. Well, you're right, and I'm getting ready to chuck a big rock right at your melon, you darn hypocritical Jesus Freak!

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Hate: Public Bathrooms


So I'm dinking around on Youtube a few days after I wrote this post and I see the video on the other end of this link. Unbelievable! Apparently, someone out there is just as twisted as I am but I feel completely vindicated in my feelings about public bathrooms!

So I'm in O'hare airport and I get a certain rumbling down below that lets me know that there's no way in H-E-Double Hockey Sticks that I'm going to be able to make it until I fly to Boston, secure my luggage, secure a rental car, drive to my hotel and settle in to the privacy of my own little sanctuary to do my business. It must be done. I must actually drop a deuce in a public bathroom. Oh, I've done it before, mind you. But my therapist says it's done irreparable harm that, despite an enormous boat payment that I could help cover with weekly appointments, is simply untreatable. I won't bore you with the details of the transaction in the loo but it was highlighted by an overflow next to me. Oh, the humanity!

My biggest beef with public bathrooms is that they aren't my own. At home, I rarely pee on the wall and flushing is not just a courtesy, it's a given. I also have a nice selection of magazines to read that I might not otherwise have time to review. Soap for the hands afterwards? Of course! Would you prefer to smell like lilacs or roses? Two-ply and plenty of it. It is an unhurried event as long as the kids aren't causing each other to bleed and, I dare say, quite relaxing.

Not so in the world of I'll-just-rest-my-cigarette-on-the-edge-of-the-urinal-while-I-pee. If it's "go" time, man, I hold the world record. Get in, release, wash up and get the heck out! I'm not really a fan of people in general, and I really don't like people in the same Porcelain Prison while I'm doing my thing! No time for the May 1983 issue of Popular Mechanics, thank you very little, I've got business to take care of. And, apparently, half of the Western Hemisphere has taken care of their business right where I'm standing.

Bathroom-ing is not something to be shared with someone else. As much as I don't get the whole deal with women going to the bathroom in pairs, it's just not cool for guys to do it at all. Conversations are not meant to be held in such environs. Talking with someone is best done eye-to-eye not eye-to-urinal-handle-dripping-with-condensation. And yet, I really don't want to look you in the eye and chat while I'm taking a leak so it's best that no talking occurs. If there is a burning topic of conversation (i.e. something related to free stuff or beer or chicks or something) the only legal place for that discussion is while washing one's hands and/or yelling over the hand dryer. Otherwise, keep your eyes straight ahead and we'll all be OK. Also, please do not call me on your cell phone while you are in there. If I hear an echo or grunting or what sounds like a babbling brook, I'm hanging up on you.

I'll admit that there are two exceptions to my hatred for public bathrooms. The first is grafitti. I dig grafitti and there's no better place to read a humorous debate over someone's ex-girlfriend's special skills than a men's room stall. What else are you going to do in there? There's no Us Weekly so you may as well write a poem that has the word "Nantucket" in it.

The other exception, surprisingly, is the port-a-potty. I know you are probably thinking that, if I can't stand a somewhat civilized bathroom in Ohare airport, how could I possibly dig a port-a-potty? The key here is the privacy. Is there anything more cocoon-like than a port-a-potty? Slide the little plastic handle in place so the poor leg-crossing bastards outside know that you're in there and the world is your oyster! No chance of an overlfow here - just drop it in! Want to use the entire roll of TP? Go right ahead - nothing to clog up here! Assuming no one tips it over while you're indisposed, you're good to go and you can let your troubles just fall away! When you're done, you can slide the little lever thing back with confidence and stride outside with nary a care in the world. You're probably also thinking that the facility in the actual airplane is quite cocoon-like also so why couldn't I just use that one? Yeah, and monkeys might fly out of my butt, too.

So there you have it. You can invite me over to your house any time because there ain't no way I'm going to cross the threshold into your water closet and cause undue gross-ness (whether solid, liquid or gas). Public bathrooms are also what's keeping me out of prison and the armed forces. I would have knocked over countless liquor stores by now if I could have had my own facility with a lock in my cell. Now that I think about it, though, my general fear of being shot PLUS the whole shared bathroom thing is what's keeping me from signing up to join the army. You know how we all can sleep better because certain people are on duty in the military? Well, you can sleep better knowing that I'm NOT on duty....

Also, on a related note, it's best not to come to my house at about 6:15pm as I might be unavialable for a few minutes...