This is the best fucking thing ever.
This is the best fucking thing ever.
The commercial tries hard to make its point, the website it advertises tries even harder. The argument being made is noble, when you use the term “gay” to describe an adverse situation, or a foolish action or person, it is offensive to the LGBT community. Unless you have succeeded in avoiding contact with my entire generation, you have probably heard the phrase “that’s so gay” used.
When we were younger, we were chastised for using this term for a whole different reason: because the thought of young children knowing the concept of homosexuality scared adults at the time. Well, times have changed, and now it’s because using the term to describe derogatory situations is offensive to homosexuals.
The commercial has been aired a lot lately and although fortunately it does not seem to have reached the prominence of those anti-tobacco and marijuana commercials that worked so well, it’s no less gay.
I’m a socially liberal person; I’m in support of the LBGT political agenda, especially when it comes to gay marriage and DADT.
I believe that no government which provides benefits to heterosexual marriages – and legally recognizes them as such – has the right to deny those same benefits, and the corresponding legal recognition, to homosexual couples. It shouldn’t be a partisan matter, it’s simply one of empathetic rationality.
However, I refuse to ever stop using the word “gay” the way I have always used it, and I find it rather arrogant of the GLSEN organization to demand otherwise.
If you have been lucky enough to avoid this commercial, allow me to give a brief synopsis: Two evil obnoxious straight girls, Emma and Julia, are at work; Julia asks Emma if she is doing anything tonight, and Emma says she can’t because her parents told her she has to come home after work, to which Julia replies, “that’s so gay.” Luckily one of the wise customers is conveniently ready to teach these young ladies the error of their politically incorrect vernacular; she approaches and says, “That’s so Emma and Julia.” When Julia understandably inquires as to what the hell she’s getting at, she explains – in a display of superb comedic wit, I might add – that their names have become – somehow, unbeknownst to Emma and Julia – adjectives for dumb and stupid.
LOLZ!!!! GET IT?!?!
Well you shouldn’t. I didn’t. Probably had to do with the lack of sense that was made in this scripted social encounter. The producers must have been aware of the commercial’s analogous nonsense because they had to get a narrator to clarify it at the end by stating: “Imagine if who you are was used as an insult. When you say, “That’s so gay” do you realize what you say? Knock it off.”
First of all, I do not appreciate it when those below my level of intellect tell me what to do (which is why I hated high school so much), so the last bit of the commercial that orders me to “knock it off” is annoying at best. But had they at least come up with a better argument, perhaps one that made sense, it would have been more tolerable.
Their argument is so gay because it does’t make sense analogously. Emma and Julia are names, “gay” is a word. While words are versatile, and change meaning all the time, names are not; in fact, names do not even have real meaning in the same sense that words have meaning. Names do not describe – they identify.
Furthermore, while words have the ability to be used in many different lexical forms, names can only identify words from one lexical category (nouns). Therefore the commercial fails to convey its point because of the moronic nature of its analogy.
I realize that analyzing the syntax of the commercial’s language may seem like a desperate attempt to justify my usage of the word, but it is important that it be analyzed. When a person sets out to make an argument for or against something, a good indication of whether or not their argument has merit is how well they can convey the point that they are trying to make by using logic, as arguments rely on logic to be effective.
Obviously if your argument has no merit, it will be impossible to justify logically.
However, that won’t likely stop the person from trying anyway, and when they do they often attempt to formulate an analogy, in this instance, comparing the way in which one uses the word “gay” to describe a stupid or dumb situation with using the names of the girls to describe a stupid or dumb situation (which does not work because names cannot describe).
Analogies are, however, tools with which one strengthens an argument. An analogy that attempts to strengthen a logicless argument will always fail, just as this one did.
As was stated earlier, words have the ability to both change meaning and hold multiple meanings. This is why I will continue to use the word “gay” the way I always have and maintain a clean conscience. I doubt the “n-word” would be used so prolifically by the black community today if it still held the same meaning to them as it did to white slave owners in the 1700’s; the point being that even the most hurtful words have the ability to change meaning over time.
But what makes GLSEN’s demand even more preposterous is the fact that the word “gay” itself is a perfect example of the metamorphic tendencies of words’ meanings. I don’t even need to use any analogous or metaphoric examples to make my point.
But I will anyway.
For example, the statement “let’s go be gay together!” would have had a totally different implied meaning in the 1920’s than today. Even today the dictionary lists descriptions such as “happy,” “lively,” and “colorful” before “homosexual.” It’s not my fault that the gay community has chosen to align itself with these adjectives as well. Someone who is happy, lively, and colorful in character is not necessarily attracted to the same sex – but they are gay, at least according to the dictionary definition. But if I were to describe a person, place, or thing that is happy, lively, and colorful as gay (and I would) I’m sure GLSEN would have a problem with me.
When I use the term “gay” to describe something I perceive to be stupid or dumb (like this commercial), I’m not implying those things to be homosexual. At that point, the word has taken on a whole new meaning, and if you choose to be offended by the way I’m using it, you should probably stop being so gay. GLSEN’s inability to perceive the alternate slang meaning is a result of their desire to be offended by it.
If my friend buys a new bright pink and purple sweater, I will inevitably describe that sweater, and my friend, as gay. Does this mean that I’m accusing him of being attracted to male genitalia? No. Does it mean that I’m accusing his sweater of being attracted to other sweaters? No. It means that I don’t care for the sweater, and I know that his and my understanding of the word “gay” in the context of the situation will clearly convey my feelings towards it. Just because the word has evolved to mean stupid or dumb does not mean that I think homosexual people are inherently stupid or dumb, in the same way that I don’t think stupid or dumb things are inherently homosexual.
To answer the question posed at the end of the commercial: Yes, I do know what I’m saying when I say “that’s so gay”; just because you don’t doesn’t mean I need to stop using it.
Our nation’s attitude towards the legal concept of estate needs some serious adjustment.
In simpler terms, we need to re-think our entire philosophy regarding how life, property rights, and the state should operate in relation to each other.
To help frame this discussion, allow me to pose a question: What should happen to an individual’s wealth when they die?
Block out everything else. Block out history. Block out current policy. Block out your own current opinion.
Pretend we somehow made it all the way to 2011 without ever thinking about it, and all of a sudden someone asked that question. Everything else in the world is the same, except no one ever conceived of the concept of an estate, and when a person died, every ounce of their wealth was just buried with them. It doesn’t make any sense, but you get the point.
And all of a sudden, that question is posed to you.
Really though, under the assumption of the theoretical circumstances described above, consider that question and comment if you want to share your answer.
I certainly know what my answer is. It might shock/piss off certain people, but if it does, at least go on and read my reasoning.
But when a person dies, I believe that money should go to the state a.k.a. be acquisitioned by the United States government.
Oh my God! Never! That, sir, is wrong, injust, and immoral!
(Is what a conservative Republican would say).
They’re very good at calling something the opposite of what it is until everyone around them believes it just so they’ll shut the fuck up. (That’s been their strategy ever since their last one stopped working).
Of course, they wouldn’t elaborate on why it is any of those things. They would simply yell stuff like that every time I try to explain it until I give up and no one learns anything.
It’s an effective strategy, really. I’ve always been very forward with my belief that Republicans are masterful politicians.
(I just happen to believe that the U.S. needs masterful leaders, but I digress)
While conservatives will never be able to explain why the idea of an estate tax, let alone the acquisition of one’s estate by the state, is wrong or injust or immoral, I can explain right now why the absence of one is all three.
One of the problems with us as a nation at this juncture of our destiny is our inability to be grateful for our ability, granted to us by the state, to live the lives we please. We, the people, don’t see taxes the same way a tenant thinks about the rent they pay; although they are basically the same thing in practice.
A landlord is responsible for completing a number of tasks the tenant can’t bother with, such as obtaining property so the tenant can live there without owning it, and maintaining that property for the tenant. In return the tenant pays a monthly fee to the landlord.
If the landlord comes to the conclusion that his property is worth more than he’s been charging, or that he needs to charge more to make a profit, the tenant might be perturbed, but generally they aren’t going to think the landlord is “taking” money from them.
But when the government does the same thing on a greater level (obtain territory, maintain territory, defend territory, provide property, ensure public health, draft legislation, enact legislation, enforce legislation, judge real-life applications of legislation, etc…) for the people, and just happens to need some compensation from those whose behalf all these expensive tasks are being performed on, the same message reverberates from the people: Fuck you; raise my taxes, lose my vote.
Basically we’re all a bunch of spoiled fucks.
It isn’t entirely our fault, though. However, the only other culprit to blame is “society“, which never gets anyone anywhere. So, if you’re like my mom for instance, and you perceive my critical observations of the nation and government I owe my life to as a malicious personal insult… just don’t do that. It’s stupid, I don’t bitch about politics and shit in China or Russia or Germany because it’s not my job to bitch about them, it’s my job to bitch about my own nation’s politics and shit, and if you think that by me doing so I’m less patriotic than the overwhelming percentage of other people who don’t say or think shit, then you’re a fuckass – but it’s okay because I love you anyway because you’re actually reading my shit and hopefully the fact that I just called you a fuckass won’t impede your willingness to continue doing so.
Our current policy regarding what happens to a person’s wealth when they die is inspired by archaic logic which is a remnant of class systems from the past. Those unfortunate enough to be born into a family with no money occupy a class in society below those born into wealthy families.
Laws should facilitate the cultivation of a society where those with the most potential in any given respect, regardless of their socio-economic standings, are provided with what’s necessary to live up to that potential. That way, the society is limited only to the potential of the collection of it’s smartest members.
A society in which the rich and powerful grant favors for their children, and their friends’ children, and their children’s friends, and so forth, is a society which limits itself to the intellectual capacity of whomever was lucky enough to be born a leech on a cow. (I just made that up.)
So, going back to what I was talking about earlier, let’s think about estates from a pragmatic standpoint.
It is 2011. Currently, a person born in this country’s ability to live out their potential is dependent upon which socio-economic class their family is. That’s just a fact.
The money those lucky enough to be “entitled” to a large inheritance get wouldn’t even exist had the United States of America not provided an economy for their dead relative to participate in.
So why is a person’s child, or anyone else, entitled to the money they were only able to make because of the great nation in which they live? Why do we think it’s right that the child of a person who utilized the tools provided for them by the state to amass wealth is entitled to use that money any way they please? Conservatives, you’re telling me, considering the fact that without it no one could have an estate in the first place, that the state isn’t entitled to any of a dead person’s wealth?
Pragmatically, I’m not saying that a 100% estate tax is ever favorable, but if conservatives argue it should be abolished, the other extreme warrants a defense, as well. That’s how good policy is made.
I believe that when you’re born in this country, you’re given a gift that transcends worth; freedom. Remember that thing, conservatives? That thing that pretending to care about gets so many votes?
Freedom is something that only lasts from birth until death, and considering the United States of America is the entity that bestowed upon all of us this gift, it’s wholly un-American, un-patriotic, and just plain wrong to cling to your daddy’s inheritance like a bratty screaming child clinging to a box of cookies when told to share.
And those very bratty screaming [fat-fuck] children are the ones who end up with all the economic power. Because yeah, if you’re like me and you’re born into a middle-class family and you have all the means to obtain an education and whatnot, if you work very hard you can become extremely successful, but I’m still going to be in debt before I start my career.
Someone from a lower-class family must work even harder.
Those toward the higher end of the socio-economic spectrum still don’t have it super easy, but they’re pretty much set as long as they don’t totally fuck up and get like three DUI’s or something.
Someone from an incredibly wealthy family, on the other hand, doesn’t even have to do well in high school. They can literally get DUI’s on the first Thursday of every month just for fun. It doesn’t matter, because even if they totally fail in life, they can still get a position at their family’s company or whatever, and they still have that huge trust fund, and they still probably get lots of money from their parents when they die, unless they totally piss them off.
And then that idiot ends up running daddy’s company. But daddy’s company deals with a large sector of the United State’s financial economy. So with the guidance of those his father appointed to be around him, he manages to do alright running the company.
But then he dies, and his son starts running the company.
By now, the company has been run to the ground, the U.S. economy slides into a second great depression, and now everyone’s poor. Except, of course, for the people who caused it; gotta love them trust funds!
That is, of course, a dramatization. However, it’s also one of the factors I attribute to the 2008 global economic collapse. And it’s only going to happen over and over again, each time more severely than the last, until we realize that the way we’re doing things isn’t necessarily the right way.
All I’m saying is that in a political culture where cutting benefits for people in need is way easier to accomplish politically than raising taxes on dead people, I feel I need to say something.
Because I believe that’s wrong.
I believe it’s the result of centuries of political manipulation, and if we were truly doing things the American way to get out of this recession, we would be raising taxes on those making over $500,000 a year and substantially raise the estate tax before even thinking about depriving citizens of benefits they’re relying on to make it through the very recession that necessitated their use of them in the first place.
Unfortunately, Fox News has a slightly larger audience than I.
My inability to understand the motivations behind typical human actions often worries me.
Take conversating (not conversing) with strangers for instance. I have never understood what on God’s green fuck motivates a person to entertain a conversation with a total stranger.
I’m not talking about the online world either. I’m talking about just running into some schmo out in public and talking with them.
I saw this young lady outside of 7-Eleven the other day. When we pulled up, she was engaged in some form of discourse with a rather obese man.
It’s not just that he was obese, though; that’s not special. He was obese and carried with him the unmistakable “I gave up on life twelve years ago” swagger.
He had a belly that could easily double as a wildlife habitat.
His shirt bore the stains of this day’s serving of sweat and body grease, on top of the previous day’s layer of sweat and body grease, on top of the previous day’s layer of anguish and scorn.
His smirkish grin juxtaposed with his miserable appearance such that it loudly and proudly proclaimed, “I ONCE GOT AWAY WITH CHILD MOLESTATION!” He had a stare that might as well have come with the words “I would totally rape the shit out of you and your 2nd grader if I was strong enough” on his forehead.
Okay, that’s enough on him.
The young lady with whom he was conversating wasn’t exactly Kate Middleton, but she was certainly in a totally different realm of superficial outward physical aesthetic attractiveness.
But then again, she was hanging out in front of a 7-Eleven, so that’s probably an indication of something too.
Her wardrobe was rather ironic; a “Michigan State” hoodie over what could only have been an IHOP waitress uniform (or so I deduced from the presence of the IHOP across the street).
She carried with her more of a “I gave up on life three months ago” swagger; not totally hopeless.
The weirdest thing about her, though, was how genuinely engaged in conversation she was with Mr. Fatty Fat-Fat Face.
As my friend, who was driving, entered 7-Eleven, their discussion continued and I was able to make out what it was they were talking about.
Now, I didn’t think this was possible, but even upon hearing them discuss lottery tickets, I still don’t know what the fuck about lottery tickets there is to discuss. I just don’t understand what a conversation about lottery tickets would consist of, even having heard one. I don’t even think I can say 10 things about lottery tickets;
That’s it. I would have to consult Wikipedia for further info.
But that’s not even the part I’m having trouble processing. I don’t buy lottery tickets, maybe they’re a lot more interesting than I thought. My problem is that I just have no way of understanding what people hope to accomplish when engaging in social encounters such as these.
I mean, I talk to people I don’t know all the time in certain situations, like on my campus, on other college campuses, parties, bars and teh internets. But that’s more or less what all of those things are for; it’s more of the location that strikes me than anything.
This particular 7-Eleven sits off a very heavily trafficked 45mph highway near a bunch of restaurants and grocery, hardware, fast-food, and convenience stores. Their conversation literally took place in front of a “No Loitering” sign, not that I’m for listening to what signs say.
7-Eleven is an American establishment that has been enabling my addictions for as long as I can remember – starting with delicious Slurpees, through extreme Amp and Monster energy drinks, to delectably addicting Marlboro Lights, and of course, only the freshest Grape Dutchies to roll super-fat blunts with the weed I can almost always get from the [black and Latino] cashiers – so they will always occupy a very special place in my arrhythmic heart. However, when I go to 7-Eleven, I’m generally in and out. No one tries to talk to me, and I try to talk to no one. It’s pretty simple really.
I explained this whole little anomaly by just assuming she’s one of those really weird girls who’s just attracted to outwardly repulsively disgusting men.
The weirdness of our species ensures that there will always be someone for everyone.
Okay, the insect situation in my room has just gone from Guarded to Severe in about the last 45 minutes.
Their varieties have grown by significant numbers, and are often exotic in nature, and possibly deadly.
I spotted one of the most repulsive little ugly sneaky fucks earlier and managed to document the finding.
I told myself I most certainly was not to consume – in any way, shape, or form – marijuana or marijuana related products this morning before my 11:40am meeting with my advisor. I’m meeting with him in regards to my class schedule next semester.
Oh yeah, and the other part of the story is that I just smoked some weed.
And yes, it’s still before noon. Not that that really matters at this point.
The meeting is no problem, I’m totally fine with interacting with people while I’m high at this point.
I didn’t used to be, I used to hate it slash suck at it. Luckily, for like two years straight, I continuously forgot that I hated it slash sucked at it because, well, I was high every time I realized those things.
So every time before a class or something I had to do, I’d be like “I should get high before I go” and then some other layer of consciousness of mine would be like “Yeaaaa!!!”
And then I’d smoke. And then I’d be high.
And then I’d be about to walk into class or whatever and be like “Why the fuck did I smoke? Going to class high isn’t fun!! It fucking sucks!!!”
And I repeated actions quite similar to that roughly 200 times since Freshman year, so now it doesn’t bother me at all. I kind of like it. It’s challenging to pretend to not be high when you’re high. It’s fun to pretend you care about all these humanly things.
I always wonder in what ways it alters my social encounters. For instance, what would have happened differently in this meeting I’m about to go to if I wasn’t high? The outcome likely would have been the same either way, but what details in our conversation would be different?
I’ll never effing know. And that pisses me the eff off.
I love writing when I’m high.
Ugh, sometimes I hate college.
Today I woke up, stumbled to the sink in my room to brush my teeth, opened the medicine cabinet AND OUT CRAWLED A BIG-ASS MOTHA FUCKIN COCKROACH!
I must say, however, it’s a fantastic way to get your blood pumpin’ in the morning.
Especially if you’re like me and insects of all sorts freak you the fuck out.
Do you people get what they are? Insects, especially cockroaches, are basically fucking aliens, except the planet they evolved on was Earth during a totally separate time period as us. Earth was so different when they evolved, it might as well have been an alien planet. They are not suited for our comfortable lifestyle.
Anyways, back to the issue at hand. It’s like the fourth time I’ve encountered a cockroach within a single minute of waking up, just a few days prior I opened my door and a little bastard ran in right past my feet. I did what any self-respecting man would do: I danced up and down on my tipi-toes like some old western douchebag was shootin at my feet… and yelped.
So, I’m not sure if I keep seeing the same little bastard or if there’s a bunch of little bastards. But this I do know: They’re smart little bastards and are aware of when I sleep and when I wake, because I never see them except for in the morning when I wake up, then they run away to some little hiding place and I never see them again.
They’re plotting our downfall from within the confines of our very own homes. And we’re just sitting by, clueless to the impending take-over of the human race by our insectual rivals.
I must implore you all take necessary measures to ensure that your house is rid of all these evil cockroach fiends, so that our society may be free once more from the threat of dictatorial insectual rule.
In the mean time, I’m gonna keep using them to help me wake up.
No longer will Delaware be the butt of the joke in marginally successful comedy movies.
However, their ill may now enjoy them more thoroughly.
Bloomberg Businessweek reports: A bill legalizing medical marijuana in Delaware received overwhelming support in the state Senate on Thursday.
This is the kind of news that catches my eye.
Those of you who are fellow WordPress bloggers are aware of the cool little feature of their site stats that lets you see what people searched to find your blog, or an article on your blog.
Well I started getting them about two weeks ago, but I wanted to share with you all what the number 1 term that directs traffic to this blog is:
You may remember a post of mine by the same name a short while back.
All the other ones are different ways of searching for getting away with smoking weed – in case anyone was wondering why I put so much time into those posts (can’t believe it actually worked).
Anyways, I just thought that was funny.
Ah, the library.
It’s been a while since I published my first post about specific problems with today’s youth. This one deals with what happens when I seek to escape the clusterfuck of noise coming from the dorm rooms surrounding mine.
I pack up my shit and begrudgingly go to the library.
But what happens when I get there? After I get settled in the computer lab and get ready to do my work?
Well usually I realize I forgot something I need and have to go all the way back to my room to get it.
But after that, what happens?
Some fucking clit-licker decides they can’t get their work done unless they blast Nicki Minaj’s album Pink Friday directly into their ear holes at a volume which allows for my ear holes to understand Nicki word for word when she articulates such tidbits of deep philosophical knowledge as,
I just pop up on these hoes on some pimple shit
And put an iron to your face you old wrinkled bitch
which is only a problem because when language such as that is directly juxtaposed against any Supreme Court case I’m likely trying to read by that point, it’s hard to remain passionate about American law knowing that it facilitates the very forms of expression that inhibit me from studying it.
But if it isn’t the clit-licker blasting Nicki Minaj, it’s the cum-guzzling bitches in the corner on Facebook talking loudly about everything other than academics. Not that talking loudly about academics would distract me any less, but at least it wouldn’t make them cum-guzzling bitches.
(To clarify, I’m not being misogynistic; two men can be cum-guzzling bitches too if they go into a school library and use Facebook as a means to facilitate their gossip).
Of course, although I complain, I know it could be worse. The following is a rave that took place in the library of James Madison University in 2009.
Now, ignoring the fact that I just happened to be in Harrisonburg, Virginia that weekend to see my friends at JMU, and I just happened to stay for the rave that Sunday night, the above video is a perfect example of what’s wrong with today’s youth.
Does anyone else suffer from problems such as this? If so, what do you do when some ass is being distracting in the Library? If not, what would you do?
I want to know because I find the way people interact with each other, especially in situations like this, to be interesting. I want to find how much the way people deal with difficult individuals differs from person to person.