An ode to humanity By Jake Westrum
Have you ever gotten up in the morning just feeling horrible? That’s how I feel right now. Except it’s 10:00 at night! What could possibly put me in this mood, you ask? First of all, my shit heel neighbors are screaming and slamming doors, effectively turning the entire dorm building into a fucking war zone! And this isn’t just today. This is every day. This is the hell that is my life.
Hey-hey hey! Come back here! I’m not alone in this. I see it everywhere, every day. Stupid assholes ordering pizzas at 1am, partying ‘til 3am. Christ, you’d think these people could at least pretend to be human beings. But no, as soon as they’re away from their parents, life is just one big loud drunken party. Of course, I’m not in on this. My reasons are very simple. Higher beings evolve! Yes, that basic statement that all people cling to is rarely applied.
You see these stupid pricks everywhere. And it’s not like anything in the world provides any clarity. I mean, most people can see the most profound life-altering experience, and the only thought in their primate head is something akin to “what’s on WCW tonight?” It’s always been like this. Anyone who tells you that people are getting stupider are even dumber for having told you this. We’re getting dumber on average? Come on! People have done everything from worshipping crocodiles to burning people at the stake for witchcraft, and people have the nerve to say we’re worse off!? Of course, we’re not better off either. Christ, go to any web page and find some Christian bullshit, and all you see is how we’re all going to hell for our sins, and how every swear word is equal to being sodomized with a pitchfork once when we die and go to hell. It’s not like we’ve ever been more or less tolerant. You know what? Fuck you! if there is a god, I can’t imagine him being such a fucking asshole. And if he is, I don’t want to know him anyway.
And speaking of being more tolerant, there is a line here, people! I mean, sure, I don’t think that every one who believes something different from me is evil. But I’m not some lethargic jerk-off walking around chanting “I’m OK, you’re OK” like some sort of mantra. There is a point where I want to be allowed to say what I want. That point is at the get-go. I tell you what; you fuckers leave me alone, and I’ll let you do whatever stupid thing you want to do. All I ask is that you let me write, think, and say what I please. Jesus, last semester I sent an email to a professor. On that email I had a signature that was pretty violent. It was hilarious, but it was pretty bloody. This asshole has the nerve to talk to me about tolerance and being kind to one another. This fucking gyrating penis can go fuck himself ‘til he turns blue for all I care; I’m not going to alter what I find funny just for the sake of offending someone else. I seem to remember one of the basic points of living in this hole of a country is that we can say what we want without fear. Of course, our country is only slightly better than the rest of the world. It’s like being in Arkansas and having to choose between getting fucked in the ass or having to suck the redneck’s dick after he’s kidnapped you off of some dirt country road.
That reminds me, what’s up with our schools anyway? It’s like some sort of fascist regime of yes-men everywhere we go now. I mean, I’m not really Captain-fuckin’-America or anything, but I do enjoy what few real rights I’m given. Shouldn’t we be taught that we can utilize these rights from an early age? You’d think so, wouldn’t you! But no. From day one of kindergarten we’re taught nothing but fear. Do what you’re told, or else. Don’t think about it, just do the homework you’re given. I thought learning was supposed to be fun, and I don’t much like being ordered around. Hell, if I were a student, I’d do what I damn well please and fuck the people who tell me I’m suspended if I don’t. Oh wait, I did. And I don’t regret it.
Of course, all of my complaints go right back to the stupidity of mankind. It’s like about 1% of the world is really as evolved and intelligent as the other 99% pride themselves on being. You have fucking Irish Catholics killing Irish Protestants. WHY!? You have fucking Christians boycotting Marilyn Manson concerts. WHY!? What the fuck is so wrong with people that they have to be so fucking concerned with how the rest of the world operates. I’m not saying the world is a fantastic place, but it’d certainly be a little better if people quit nitpicking about every little thing. That’s probably the most stupid and hypocritical thing to do. So the fuck what if some guy your kid knows smokes pot like a smokestack? So what if you’re some nut job born again Christian and your kids don’t give a shit. Just keep that shit to yourself.
It seems contradictory. Keep things to yourself, but feel free to say and do what you want. But they’re really not. Just stop forcing your bullshit onto me. Say and do what you want, but I don’t care. Goddamn, people are stupid. I just can’t fathom how bad people are. They’re just so critical; so presumptuous. Everyone just assumes the world revolves around them. Oh sure, they don’t say it. But they sure as fuck act like it. Then those same people get offended when someone else around them does the same thing!
I just feel like pissing on the world? Not just pissing on the world, but like laughing while I’m doing it? Things are not going well in the world. Actually, the world is fine. It’s the people who are not turning well. This is the way I feel every morning. That’s right, every day I wake up I want to butcher some stupid asshole human and bathe in their fucking blood! I hate mornings. That's why I usually sleep through it. It's like this completely disgusting and awful thing that is absolutely unnecessary---like finding a green chip all of a sudden in an otherwise perfectly good bag of Ruffles. In fact, there is only one thing in this whole fucking world that I hate more than the morning, and that's onions. And loud rap music. And my neighbors. I swear, if there is a hell I’m surely going there. I guarantee my punishment would be this eternal morning with this huge fucking alarm clock blaring rap music. And then I would have to get up and eat onions all day with my neighbors, who are so stupid that they would probably stare at a wall for days drinking grain alcohol until someone pulled their drunk asses away. One of them actually asked me to help him shave his back hair once. I'm sorry Ryan, I'd rather have the entire Love Boat sailed up my ass on a regular basis than touch your back hair you enormous wad of snot. Yes, I told him this. He came down the other day and told me that his new goal in life is to rob a bank because he was inspired by the movie "Wisdom." Demi Moore has inspired me to do many things in life, but robbing a bank has never been one of them. In fact, “Strip Tease” inspires me to do something every few days, but that’s another story…
Lately I've been working on this theory that seems to remedy all my problems once implemented--it's called violence. Guns, knives, an armored tank, large farm machinery, piano wire, a rusty bear trap, a random light socket, dental floss (preferably waxed), or even a dollar bill (that's George Washington if you're nasty) could do the trick. Hell, my teeth will work in a pinch. Oh, fuck this “in a pinch” bullshit. I’d be proud to display my sharpened canines for someone, just before I tear their fucking throat open. A great example of implementing my theory is to simply enter your neighborhood Taco John’s and say, "I'd like three soft taco's without the fingernails or pubic hair...oh, and add sour cream," and they say "Excuse me sir, but I don't appreciate the smart ass comment." And then you say, "Well I don't appreciate the hair growing out of the mole on the side of your face. And I most certainly don’t appreciate the fact that I went to high school with you and I saw the people you hang out with." And then they say, "OK mister, I've had just about enough of you." And that's where you pull out the gun. By the way, if you ever get Taco John’s, don't look on the inside. I had a friend once who opened up her seven layer burrito and I swear it looked like someone had just after-birthed in it. Speaking of afterbirth, I saw this show on HBO where they took human afterbirth and fried it up and ate it. I mean do you use a lot of ketchup? What about leftovers? Is that stuff re-heatable? I mean what kind of fucking fuck eats afterbirth? It made me sick. To this fucking day, turning to HBO gives me dry heaves. And why the hell does this girl (a.k.a. dyke of the universe) keep calling me? Why does she call me every other day and ask if I'm dating someone else? I could have a herd of sheep in my bed every night and it's none of your fucking business. And that's beside the fact that she looks like someone screwed an ass onto her neck and stapled a cheap wig to the top of it. About the only thing more sick than that is the food in our cafeteria. The other day they actually served Pinto Bean Loaf. Yes, Pinto...Bean...Loaf. I mean what does that look like? I don't know, that word "loaf" just makes me very afraid for some reason. And then there's three bean delight. Which word does not fit in that phrase--three, bean, or delight? I'm sorry, anything that has three beans in it is not a delight. Yesterday we had Breaded Perch. BREADED PERCH. Isn't Perch like something actual real fish eat? We don't have just chicken, we have chicken with the feet still on them. We have turkey that floats. We have gravy that becomes a lumpy green substance within minutes of exposure to the air. And they have these official sounding names for all the foods. For instance: Vermont Cheese Soup--as if the cheese soup from South Dakota would inspire laughter by everyone in the cafeteria. And out of everyone in the breathing world you would want to handle your food they have to choose people that look like extras from a prison rape movie. About the only thing that annoys me more is poetry. It's nothing personal--it's just poetry. It's this sick, twisted, perverted cult that wants to transform the world into a bunch of fairies and nymphs skipping from flower to flower in a bunch of rhyming couplets. It's all the real demon shit, you know. What do you think happened to Elvis? The poets got him. Where did the bullet from the grassy knoll come from. That's right, the poets. River Phoenix? Yep, he was getting too close to their L.A. based operation. It's called "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre"--that whole damn family used to be poets before they decided to chop up all those teenagers. They were just sitting there one day reading "In a Station at the Metro" and they said, "I know what it means!" It's all subliminal. They trick you into trying to find a deeper meaning and it ends up saying the same damn thing in your head no matter which poem you read: "Get a gun and kill your grandmother." Every poet who seems happy and gay is really evil; and they must be stopped. Every line has something Satanic in it. For instance: "Hail to thee, blithe spirit" if read backwards really says "Satan is the king of the world and he drives a big fucking Buick." The world is not a safe place for the normal people anymore. The people that like to watch re-runs of "Welcome Back Kotter," the people that eat dog biscuits on occasion, the people that get a strange sensation while watching those three chicks on "The Price is Right." I beg you, do not read or write happy poetry. It seems so innocent at first. You open a book, read a few lines, and BAM! you've just cut up the neighbors and are keeping them around the house in lots of little jars while drinking their piss out of the toilet. Of course, the bloody and mean sounding poetry doesn’t count. Stay away from any fucking guy who loves flowers!
It's a sick world we live in. Just look at the headlines--incest, child molestation, cattle mutilations, Michael Bolton, gangs, AIDS, serial killings, Colombian drug trafficking, Michael Bolton, stupid assholes in general, Michael Bolton. Did I mention Michael Bolton!? And what does our school do about any of it?--we have Hillary Clinton and a guy wearing a huge mask handing out Pop Tarts to everybody, while at the same time brainwashing us all into a crowd of mindless yes-men who pointless memorize meaningless items just for the hell of it. Tell me, have you ever used algebra? And how come I'm the only one I know who still checks the closet before I go to bed every night? Who knows when you'll randomly open the closet door and all of a sudden there's a mental patient with no face standing there with a hook for a hand just pissing everywhere? Or if under the bed one night there just happens to be an unusually large number of severed human heads just sitting there? Or if behind the suspicious looking bulge in the drapes there is a naked bleeding woman with a drill coming out of the end of the guitar she's playing? I have to say that I'm a firm believer in corn field circles and in alien abductions, especially in small towns in Iowa. I also believe in the Loch Ness Monster, Bigfoot, and Elvis. And that Jim Morrison is alive and living in a small town in Africa. I believe in Chinese food, southern accents, and that "Twin Peaks" was a damn fine TV show if I do say so my damn self. Why, you ask? Well, I don’t want to find that naked bleeding woman behind my drapes someday.
By the way, in case you were wondering, my US lit final was so astonishingly stupid that I was going to throw myself out of my window. I just stared at the test for an hour and a half and then fell on the ground and started flopping like a fish. And my T.A. in the class is one enormous walking penile implant, the worthless blue blooded Harvard bastard. The man should be run over by a large vehicle driven by Tina Turner if there's any justice at all in the world. And I still haven't found the air nozzle on the back of our teacher yet that blows that fucking worthless hippie up.
But I mean that in the best possible way of course. I'm really not a negative person at all. When I mention death or severe maiming for instance, I don't mean in in the negative way. If my Evolution teacher happened to be backed over eighty three times while innocently crossing an empty parking lot and the car for some reason was registered to my name, I wouldn't be so quick to focus on the negatives of the situation. In fact, I'm a very positive person. I usually try to concentrate on the positives in most situations, but I probably don't have to tell you that. I find it refreshing to spend my free time helping out at homeless shelters, rescuing a stranded kitten out of a tree, or accompanying a senior citizen across a busy intersection. On weekends I like to plant trees in the community. And when I'm not doing that I teach an adult literacy class in my spare time. My hobbies are bird watching, winding thread around an enormous spool, and skipping through fields with Wilford Brimley, while pressing daisies into homemade potpourri. I also like to ponder world problems while laying on a rock; such as: What's the deal with Bob Barker's hair? One day it's brown, the next it's white. Was Dillon really worth breaking up a good friendship like Brenda and Kelly's? Does the Coyote secretly like the Roadrunner, and if so will he send him a Hallmark card on his birthday? It's enough to make a man do something drastic. Like watch re-runs of “The Nanny”.
The world is so fucked up and ass-backwards I have to wonder if there is a God and he’s just up there on his fucking cloud laughing at how stupid these apes are. I’d be laughing. Make a bunch of monkeys just smart enough to question themselves, but too stupid to do anything about it, so they end up beating the hell out of each other the whole time. “In his image” my ass. It’s like the fucking south just up and grew to envelope the entire earth. Or even more bleak a prospect: the south is more a product of the planet than the planet is of the south. Now how’s that for a shocker.
You know how those shrinks always tell you to close your eyes and count to ten when you feel mad? It doesn’t work. Every time I hear that is a time I’d like to shove any shrink’s book up said shrink’s ass…sideways. It doesn’t work. Every time you calm down about something, something more ingratiating pops up. Now, I don’t mean the little shit. I complain a lot about the little shit. But only when it relates to the big shit pissing me off. What’s the point in spending time over the details when there’s so much in the big view to bitch about? I don’t mean I get homicidal every time someone cuts me off in traffic because they cut me off in traffic. Oh no. That would be petty. Rather, I have to wonder WHY THE FUCK THOSE PEOPLE SURVIVED INFANCY WITHOUT THEIR FUCKING PARENTS DROPPING THEM IN A BURLAP SACK AND THROWING THEM IN A FROZEN RIVER!!! Think about it. Even 100 years ago these stupid people wouldn’t be so goddamn abundant. But we’re keeping them alive! Everything from the warnings from the surgeon general about cigarettes to the little warning labels on dryers (do not use in water) is keeping these Grade A cock suckers from biting the big, after-birth filled enchilada early on.
Speaking of killing them all (I so love to say that), why not? I mean, when other animals get abundant we off them. Yet we have 6 billion semi retarded primates wandering the earth, and it’s somehow wrong? If you want, I can be humane. Stick their fucking foot in a bear trap, and while they sit there suffering I can end their misery.
You need reasons? I have one great fuckin’ reason for you. Popular music. Don’t people notice that every boy band before the Backstreet Boys drifted away without even a whimper within 3 years!? But no…these guys are somehow different. Just like the New Kids on the-fuckin’-Block were somehow “different” from the rest. Why is it “popular” anyway? I mean, who the fuck listens to it besides extremely stupid adults, and semi-retarded young girls? And who the fuck cares if Jennifer Lopez of Jennifer Love Hewitt can sing? Sorry girls, I make use of that precious mute button when I see you coming. Sadly, I would rather live in Mississippi than spend time listening to “popular” music.
I hate people who talk loud in theatres. I hate people who drive in the turn lane. I hate people who cut me off. I hate people who team up on the road and drive 60 in a 65mph zone side by side, thereby stopping me from passing them. I hate students. I hate adults. I hate people who think they “know philosophy”. I hate poetry afficiandos. And you know what I fucking hate most of all? I hate those fucking fucks who stop you on the fucking street and say “have you found god?” For fuck’s sake, I walk down the road for ten minutes from a class to my room, and I’m stopped by three of the mindless fucks! Herd behavior, that’s all it is. I get some asshole telling me that some book changed their life, and I’m supposed to give a rat’s fuck about it? You know what else is going to change your life? Me castrating you with a swift fucking kick to the groin! Let’s see you spread the “word of God” sounding like Michael fucking Jackson. And speaking of Michael Jackson, me using my aforesaid theory on remedying all my problems (violence) is similar to the king of pop being locked in wonderland ranch with nothing but three boy scouts and a dozen bottles of cold cream…allegedly. I swear, next time one of those assholes comes near me and says “can I spare a minute of your time” I’m just going to reply “sorry, I have to get back to my coven. We’re sacrificing a real human this time, and after that we’re all going to shower…together.”
I tell you, it's been a few days since i first put this down and i feel much better! even if i'm not making any sense, it's still nice to be able to scream and yell at will.
we must leave this insanity behind!
back to my top 100...and back to sanity