Misanthropy: It Feels so Good
For those of you who just tuned in, I'm a misanthrope. That is, I basically hate the human race. I don't regard us as anything special. And the planet...nay, the universe...agrees with me. Secular and religious humanists alike can proclaim just how goshdarn special we are. But I remain skeptical. One day that big extinction level event will come and a dying humanity will come face to face with a truth to shatter all vanity: It was all for nothing. Being a species of glorified talking monkeys who can do long division and write bad poetry means jack shit when a sun goes supernova. Or a giant comet strikes a planet square in said planet's nutsack. Everything we've ever done will be annihilated at some point. Entropy is very real. Bow down before the Conqueror Worm, bitches.
Deep down, we know all of this. But what do humans do knowing that all they ultimately have is each other and even that is for a limited time only? History is rife with true accounts of human versus human and often the conflicts are over nothing more than stupid bullshit. Say or do the wrong thing at the wrong time in front of the wrong people and they and they will do everything in their power to shut you up...even though nothing anybody has said or ever will say matters when looked at through the lens of cosmic indifference. Too many people are a bunch of braindead recruits who want to make you drink the same brand of Kool-Aid they do, thinking that if enough people join the cause the cause, the cause itself is proven valid. Some people call me an asshole. I don't mind because I am and asshole...just like my critics. But unlike them, I'm an asshole on purpose. They are merely assholes in denial. And inferior breed of asshole more properly known as the douchebag, to be precise.
I used to tow the humanist line many years ago. First, religious humanism as a right wing Catholic and then secular humanism as a left-leaning atheist. I would go on about humanity's supposed virtues. How we could supposedly and collectively one day rise above our limitations. I had a ton of friends and associates. And you know what? Deep down I was fucking miserable because I was living what I subconsciously knew was a lie. My beliefs were false. Most of my friends were disappointing toxic morons who constantly tried to involve me in one silly drama after another. And nearly every female I got involved with turned out to be a narcissistic twat with all sorts of personality defects. Most of the people around me spouted a bunch of high-minded principles yet rarely lived up to them. And all the while, I gave and gave and gave of myself to these ungrateful assclowns. And then one day, I was listening to this song by Alice Cooper and had an epiphany: I didn't need most of these people around me. Hell, I didn't even like most of these people. This included my then girlfriend at the time, an alcoholic Mexican goth chick who I had talked down from no less than five threats of suicide during the course of our relationship. I went over to her apartment the following Friday night, fucked her brains out, got up, wiped my dick on her tacky bedroom curtains, and got dressed. As I left I told her, "I don't think we should see each other anymore." She started screaming, cursing, and sobbing at me as I went down the hall and down the stairs to my car. Bitch must have woke up the whole goddamn building with her caterwauling. This quickly alienated a bunch of our mutual friends, just as I had hoped. I spent the weekend pruning most of my other associates and then drinking with the few friends I actually wanted to keep.
I...felt...liberated! My few true friends and I had a get together at our favorite bar. They drank a toast in my honor and I in theirs.
And that's the thing. Becoming a misanthrope doesn't mean you have to totally isolate yourself from the human race and become some weird shut-in with only a bunch of cats for company. We misanthropes are simply more picky about who we associate with. As I recently told abomvubuso, I don't have a lot of friends in real life but the few I do have are fucking gold to me. I'd take a bullet for any of them because they've proven that they'd reciprocate.
And if you're some kind of humanist, you may be saying right now, "But what about those few friends of yours? And what about your wife and daughter? Don't they validate the human race?" To which I say fuck no, they don't validate the human race. They validate themselves only. I don't like my best friend Pete because he's a human being. I like him because he's Pete. I don't love xingfulife or my daughter Chrissy because they're human. I love them on an individual basis alone. Just because you grow a bed of roses doesn't mean the cow manure you used to fertilize them with doesn't stink. As my mafioso uncle Vittorio once told me, "Nathan, most people in this world are basically stupid. Fuck 'em. You don't need 'em. Buncha fags." I only wish I'd listened to him sooner.
So anyways, the aim of this entry wasn't to depress you. I was just sharing something. But in case I did, let me cheer you up with some comedy from the funniest misanthrope of all. A man by the name of George Carlin. Enjoy:
Deep down, we know all of this. But what do humans do knowing that all they ultimately have is each other and even that is for a limited time only? History is rife with true accounts of human versus human and often the conflicts are over nothing more than stupid bullshit. Say or do the wrong thing at the wrong time in front of the wrong people and they and they will do everything in their power to shut you up...even though nothing anybody has said or ever will say matters when looked at through the lens of cosmic indifference. Too many people are a bunch of braindead recruits who want to make you drink the same brand of Kool-Aid they do, thinking that if enough people join the cause the cause, the cause itself is proven valid. Some people call me an asshole. I don't mind because I am and asshole...just like my critics. But unlike them, I'm an asshole on purpose. They are merely assholes in denial. And inferior breed of asshole more properly known as the douchebag, to be precise.
I used to tow the humanist line many years ago. First, religious humanism as a right wing Catholic and then secular humanism as a left-leaning atheist. I would go on about humanity's supposed virtues. How we could supposedly and collectively one day rise above our limitations. I had a ton of friends and associates. And you know what? Deep down I was fucking miserable because I was living what I subconsciously knew was a lie. My beliefs were false. Most of my friends were disappointing toxic morons who constantly tried to involve me in one silly drama after another. And nearly every female I got involved with turned out to be a narcissistic twat with all sorts of personality defects. Most of the people around me spouted a bunch of high-minded principles yet rarely lived up to them. And all the while, I gave and gave and gave of myself to these ungrateful assclowns. And then one day, I was listening to this song by Alice Cooper and had an epiphany: I didn't need most of these people around me. Hell, I didn't even like most of these people. This included my then girlfriend at the time, an alcoholic Mexican goth chick who I had talked down from no less than five threats of suicide during the course of our relationship. I went over to her apartment the following Friday night, fucked her brains out, got up, wiped my dick on her tacky bedroom curtains, and got dressed. As I left I told her, "I don't think we should see each other anymore." She started screaming, cursing, and sobbing at me as I went down the hall and down the stairs to my car. Bitch must have woke up the whole goddamn building with her caterwauling. This quickly alienated a bunch of our mutual friends, just as I had hoped. I spent the weekend pruning most of my other associates and then drinking with the few friends I actually wanted to keep.
I...felt...liberated! My few true friends and I had a get together at our favorite bar. They drank a toast in my honor and I in theirs.
And that's the thing. Becoming a misanthrope doesn't mean you have to totally isolate yourself from the human race and become some weird shut-in with only a bunch of cats for company. We misanthropes are simply more picky about who we associate with. As I recently told abomvubuso, I don't have a lot of friends in real life but the few I do have are fucking gold to me. I'd take a bullet for any of them because they've proven that they'd reciprocate.
And if you're some kind of humanist, you may be saying right now, "But what about those few friends of yours? And what about your wife and daughter? Don't they validate the human race?" To which I say fuck no, they don't validate the human race. They validate themselves only. I don't like my best friend Pete because he's a human being. I like him because he's Pete. I don't love xingfulife or my daughter Chrissy because they're human. I love them on an individual basis alone. Just because you grow a bed of roses doesn't mean the cow manure you used to fertilize them with doesn't stink. As my mafioso uncle Vittorio once told me, "Nathan, most people in this world are basically stupid. Fuck 'em. You don't need 'em. Buncha fags." I only wish I'd listened to him sooner.
So anyways, the aim of this entry wasn't to depress you. I was just sharing something. But in case I did, let me cheer you up with some comedy from the funniest misanthrope of all. A man by the name of George Carlin. Enjoy:
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