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"The Streets"
There are a few terms that bring a smile to my face when I hear them and one of those is:
"The streets . . ."
It is almost always used in conjunction with what the person uttering it hopes will be perceived as a threat but does not have the spine to actually utter and so fails, epically, as anything other than bluster and Interweb bravery.
I don't threaten; I don't respect those who do. Threats are the currency of the incompetent, people so insecure they must pretend intimidation in hopes that people will take them seriously. I have an allergic reaction to threats, I laugh at them. Not because I am tough, God knows I am just an average person, but because people who are competent do not threaten and thus those who threaten are whiny little bitches hoping, praying, desperately clamouring to be taken seriously.
Oh I fully understand there is a psychological failing and were I a nicer person I would try to understand and help them but I just can't get past my contempt and disdain for bullies. It's part of my brain wiring and part of my reaction to my life experience and I would feel guilty did I not realise those who threaten do so rather than having a conversation and it is not my responsibility to be treated poorly in order for someone else to feel better.
Because that is my acid test on people. If you require another to be treated badly in order for you to feel good, you are a prick and I want nothing to do with you. Should you insist we must interact, I will do so in a manner I find most amusing because I don't owe you anything.
Now some people will come to this blog entry and accuse me of personally attacking them. They are mistaken. Blog entries are often inspired by current events but are never leveled against any single person, rather they normally, like this one, are highlighting behaviour I find moronic, stupid, and without merit. But no matter how many times I say this, no matter how many times I demonstrate various influences, someone will still insist I am personally attacking them because they have a congenital need to be a victim.
As this is beyond my control, it is beyond my concern.
But please, please, go ahead and call me names and fabricate your accusations until you feel better. It's the least I could do. Trust me, if I could do less to offend these folks, I most certainly would.
03/03/2010 Afterword:
I created this blog post on 02/28/2010 around 3:00 PM ET. It was a Sunday afternoon and raining in the Philadelphia area and I was tired as I'd been getting over a vicious flu. Perhaps that coloured my perception and outlook but, looking at the responses I have gotten to this blog post all I am left with is:
Dear God, I am a fucking prophet.
To whit:
"Now some people will come to this blog entry and accuse me of personally attacking them."
And indeed, they did.
The most amusing thing to me is that the people who feel this need to tell me how wonderful they are and how worthless I am appear to be consumed by my personal opinion posted in my personal space. If I am so worthless in their mind, how is it they cannot just ignore me?
The sad truth is that, for whatever reason, my statement of my personal opinion threatens them and they must lash out in order to assuage their egos. My failing is that I find such behaviour amusing.
I've come to the conclusion that most people are used to being able to yell and scream and whine and cry and no one has ever called them on such childish behaviour and no matter how many times I tell people I am an asshole, they still believe that I will meekly endure their tantrums. When I do not they are surprised and hurt and make bizarre demands and, as I indicated in another response, I have an allergic reaction to such passive-aggressive behaviour.
I break out in taunting and laughter.
So if you need to prove you have a bigger cock than I do or that you are the toughest motherfucker in the world, or that you are nicer than I will ever be and more people love you, well, good luck with that.
"The streets . . ."
It is almost always used in conjunction with what the person uttering it hopes will be perceived as a threat but does not have the spine to actually utter and so fails, epically, as anything other than bluster and Interweb bravery.
I don't threaten; I don't respect those who do. Threats are the currency of the incompetent, people so insecure they must pretend intimidation in hopes that people will take them seriously. I have an allergic reaction to threats, I laugh at them. Not because I am tough, God knows I am just an average person, but because people who are competent do not threaten and thus those who threaten are whiny little bitches hoping, praying, desperately clamouring to be taken seriously.
Oh I fully understand there is a psychological failing and were I a nicer person I would try to understand and help them but I just can't get past my contempt and disdain for bullies. It's part of my brain wiring and part of my reaction to my life experience and I would feel guilty did I not realise those who threaten do so rather than having a conversation and it is not my responsibility to be treated poorly in order for someone else to feel better.
Because that is my acid test on people. If you require another to be treated badly in order for you to feel good, you are a prick and I want nothing to do with you. Should you insist we must interact, I will do so in a manner I find most amusing because I don't owe you anything.
Now some people will come to this blog entry and accuse me of personally attacking them. They are mistaken. Blog entries are often inspired by current events but are never leveled against any single person, rather they normally, like this one, are highlighting behaviour I find moronic, stupid, and without merit. But no matter how many times I say this, no matter how many times I demonstrate various influences, someone will still insist I am personally attacking them because they have a congenital need to be a victim.
As this is beyond my control, it is beyond my concern.
But please, please, go ahead and call me names and fabricate your accusations until you feel better. It's the least I could do. Trust me, if I could do less to offend these folks, I most certainly would.
03/03/2010 Afterword:
I created this blog post on 02/28/2010 around 3:00 PM ET. It was a Sunday afternoon and raining in the Philadelphia area and I was tired as I'd been getting over a vicious flu. Perhaps that coloured my perception and outlook but, looking at the responses I have gotten to this blog post all I am left with is:
Dear God, I am a fucking prophet.
To whit:
"Now some people will come to this blog entry and accuse me of personally attacking them."
And indeed, they did.
The most amusing thing to me is that the people who feel this need to tell me how wonderful they are and how worthless I am appear to be consumed by my personal opinion posted in my personal space. If I am so worthless in their mind, how is it they cannot just ignore me?
The sad truth is that, for whatever reason, my statement of my personal opinion threatens them and they must lash out in order to assuage their egos. My failing is that I find such behaviour amusing.
I've come to the conclusion that most people are used to being able to yell and scream and whine and cry and no one has ever called them on such childish behaviour and no matter how many times I tell people I am an asshole, they still believe that I will meekly endure their tantrums. When I do not they are surprised and hurt and make bizarre demands and, as I indicated in another response, I have an allergic reaction to such passive-aggressive behaviour.
I break out in taunting and laughter.
So if you need to prove you have a bigger cock than I do or that you are the toughest motherfucker in the world, or that you are nicer than I will ever be and more people love you, well, good luck with that.