Tuesday, January 5, 2010

The Story So Far

When my hungover mind scans my recently added memories, it can’t remember a night where I haven’t drank. Is this the first sign that I have a problem?

Or a high score I should attempt to achieve?

There is lot’s to forget, in a world where a group calling themselves “teabaggers” wants to be taken seriously. That’s right: they are named after dropping your nuts in someone’s mouth, and they march on Washington with their pictures of our first black president as a witch doctor and say, “TAKE US SERIOUSLY!”



And on and on and on.

They have a few leaders, these self-deprecatingly named douche-mongers: one is a winking hockey mom from Alaska who simultaneously thought prayer was the best defense for our nation, claimed she read every newspaper in the world and was almost elected vice president.

The other is a crying Mormon from a fake news station (but not an entertaining fake news station like The Onion) who complains that an oligarchy is happening and can’t even spell the word. He finds communism and socialism in everything, even things built by Rockefeller, who was, if you weren’t aware, one of the gods of Capitalism.

Nowadays all our gods are fake. The God god turned out to be bust. Our greatest prophet, the one who paved the way and voiced our frustration, was Tyler Durden. He is a literary character who is imaginary even in his own book. The leader of Generation Why is probably Jon Stewart, a funny man who reports fake news which is more factual than real news.

God is dead, and his kryptonite was apathy. Also: never existing.

So the nutjobs are in full force and inbetween my rare bouts of working and writing, I comment on a local newspaper’s ( not my own ) comment board. The right wing loonies and left wing goofballs continually chuck links at eachother, and most of them refuse to admit any wrongdoing on their own side.

I attempt to act as a monkey wrench in their arguments, except for one dude, who continually uses phrase like Obamao. Every time he makes a long vitriolic diatribe ( I hate both of those words so much, they are used by morons to sound intelligent and they fail ) I just pretend like he wrote queen lyrics.

It keeps my sanity a little more intact.

Not much else as far as energy is spent on that front anymore. Meghan and I left our lame lives in Missouri to travel to a strange and distant land. Like reverse superman we gave up our powers to land near a dying star.

Barreling in through the mountains like Hannibal on elephants, except our ride was a silver 2001 Honda, our Scipio was a shattering Gen-Y sense of self-deprecation and we had absolutely no plan, my girlfriend and I arrived in Vancouver with no jobs, no friends and no source of income.

Perception is everything. I mean, there is definitely an objective world out there, that stays the same, and a rock for me is a rock for you and no matter who we are, if we jump off a building and plummet a hundred stories we will die. But how we filter the world, those objective facts and scientific theorems, those mathematic equations that got us to the moon . . . that is what truly makes us individuals.

My filter is dirty.

So is everyone elses. So at least it’s a level playing field.