I won’t keep you long this week. In fact, I’ll cut right to the chase. A whole heaping lot of the time, the world is pretty rotten, isn’t it? I know. Hardly breaking news, huh… but sometimes it’s too damn easy to notice, is all.
Everywhere you look (try it with me now, or else make a note of it for later), we must unfortunately share this silly planet with scumbags and dopes. Other people.
And, no, I’m not even talking about the sick-inducing few who put animals in microwaves, or who hang around in bushes lusting after children – the sadists and rapists, the megalomaniacs and the misfit malcontents.
I’m only looking here at the more mundane middle of our shabby little world – the bit of it we actually live in, from one day to the next. (The margins may well be unimaginably worse, but thankfully, for most us, they’re as distant as the moon.)
This world, our world, the one we’re in right now, is full of dicks. It just is, isn’t it? People who are selfish, venal, vacuous, greedy, grabbing, mean, dull, droning, calculating, deceitful, lazy, layabout, no-good, rancid, bilious and rotten. Rotten to the stinking core. ‘Above-it-all.’ Self-obsessed. Utterly incapable of putting others’ first.
Well, I don’t know about you, but I can’t fucking stand ’em. They make me want to sigh – and sighing ain’t a whole lot of fun. And they make me spit, and shout, and scream – and throw my hands up at the dumb, vagabond unfairness of it all.
Deadbeats scrambling ‘ahead’ – not ever caring over whose backs they clamber. Pinheads putting others down – because these others are black, or gay, or disabled, or female, or one of this-and-that and you-know-what (it’s all so grimly predictable). And crushing bores, who spend all the wretched lives complaining – that nothing’s ever good enough, and that not one solitary thing under the sun is ever worth a single moment’s effort.
Like I said, everywhere you look: scumbags and dopes. Their every utterance a cancerous emission. And their every footfall a stamp of shit – on the same unlucky earth the rest of us have no choice but to tread.
…The squeaky wheel gets the grease… Everybody knows the fight was fixed, the poor stay poor and the rich get rich… And, hey, sometimes the buggers do get you down…
And the only comeback you have is to try to be a mensch.
A mensch, in a world full of dicks.
(Join me again next week, in a hopefully more fruitful search for a sunnier disposition.)