Category: speech

13 December 2017

Is there a word in English that means, “prone to promote, protect, or enrich the interests of the self?”

Egocentric, rational, logical, or sane all fit, but are each too broad and insufficiently descriptive. Normal would work, too, but that’s completely trivial. Right-handed, heterosexual, and bipedal would also fit the definition of “normal” (go ahead and check my math) so that’s out.

According to my son, Michael Malice, and the stupid dictionary, Rand and I have gotten this one wrong, as it is also not “selfish.”

This comes as a bit of a surprise, considering what lofty thinkers we are, but English is vast, complex, and often confusing. In addition to the reasonable definition posited above, the word “selfish” contains the necessary caveat (and obvious contradiction) “without regard for the well-being of others.” That is perfectly stupid, because so often my interests subsume the interests of others, as do yours, I’d guess. If our primary allegiance is to ourselves (as it must be in order to survive) then by extension we love those things that enrich our lives. I may have been mistaken at the time, but I thought that my interests and those of the Air Force were consistent in re the Soviet Empire. I selfishly signed up. I also selfishly fed my children, paid my mortgage, and scratched my thespian itch. As I pursued my self-interests I served the self-interests of vendors and manufacturers world wide. But, according to the self-loathing scolds at Merriam Webster et al, I have to hate that part of myself that loves others in order to love and serve myself.

Look, if Lefties and their sympathizers can turn “privilege” on its head, reversing its definition from the exclusive “elite access” to the meaninglessly inclusive “majoritarian immunity”, I think ya’ll can bend a little on “selfish”. I might offer a compromise in the form of “selfious”, but that sounds more like “filled with poorly framed self-indulgent self-portraits”, or maybe offer to respell it as “celfiche” or “tselphisch”, but if I were to do that you terrorists would win.

update 171225:  correspondent NT comments: “The whole point of words is to communicate…Keep in mind that people less familiar with your preferred meaning [of selfish] might tend to misunderstand.”

An excellent point, which is why I generally try to subvert their likely understanding with humor. I often proclaim that selfishness, laziness, and cowardice are my fundamental VIRTUES. This will often put them at ease, as it makes ME the butt of any potential insults. Once I introduce that turbulence into their heads, they are more amenable to considering the ramifications of my thesis, that self-preservation, self-service, and self-regard are GOOD THINGS, (leading to clever devices, more productive crops, and an easier and longer life for us all) and ought not to be scorned or denigrated. It usually works, except with the most hide-bound of literalists, and the inevitable creative listeners.

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4 March 2023 — All that and dead cat stew?

Would that she’d remained at one of “our” rural homes. I may have had help burying her. Or maybe she’d still live, frolicking in the woods, feasting on fresh rodent, and shitting on the ground. Instead, I confined her to a tenth story sterile indoor environment akin to what the State of Oregon did to my mother: murder by house arrest. The funny thing about laughter, knowledge, and guilt is that they can all be shared without being diminished. At their trials, I see many standing to answer for Rosalie. I will answer for Tichelle.

The letter arrived, but I couldn’t get past the first few lines. Not that it was poorly written or anything like that. It was neatly typed, but the tone turned so quickly that my head locked up and I couldn’t bring myself to proceed. I neatly folded it and tucked it away to cool. I know I must address it, but my mind’s pretty crowded right now.

10 March 2023 — Meanwhile, my surgeon beat me up just fine on Monday (to repair my inguinal hernia), so now I am in even greater discomfort than previously, but the trend of recovery over the last few days is encouraging. Strength and appetite seem to be returning, albeit frustratingly slow. Part of my impatience is no doubt due to the long weeks of bureaucratic delay that characterizes the VA and its ilk. But I guess that’s part of the price I’m paying.

11 March 2023 –– The longer, and closer, and deeper the alliance, the longer, and more painful, and deeper the pain of separation. So, ending twenty years of alleged comity calls for a little more mourning, I guess, than ending thirteen years of battle (twice). But, as when a beloved pet (or parent) dies, we are reminded that, “Only love hurts this much.”
When it becomes clear that a consistently pursued endeavor will not yield the fruit desired, but in fact continues to foul the field, it may be best to reassess, let things stand as they are, and distract myself from it as best I can. But let them stand, always let them stand. Any less is a lie.

8 December 2023 — Note from a “loathsome, offensive brute”:
I may be locked out of SOME rooms,
but I haven’t forgotten the ponies in them.
(aka: ikyra)
It seems that I can never escape The Kramer, even if I wanted to. One of my neighbors here in Geezer Tower (Maybe some less offensive name? I might be “looking down” on someone again.) has put up a framed portrait of The Kramer on the tenth floor. Even though “he is a loathsome offensive brute,” and “I can’t look away,” (precise quotes might also be a problem) I nevertheless find the addition to be a familiar comfort (which can no longer be denied me simply because I believe that I have an immune system and that I am not a surgeon. Not quite “two in a canoe” but that opportunity has passed anyway… )

5 February 2022

In my freezer is about a half-liter of six-year-old coffee. Well, not quite six years old, not until the 20th of June. It was inspired by a brilliantly hilarious cartoon, possibly by Skip Williamson. I’m not sure, as it remains in Bud’s possession. I do recall, however, that it was done in the graphic style of Williamson’s “Snappy Sammy Smoot.”

The joke is presented as a two-panel seriagaph. The first panel shows “Sammy” declaring that he likes his women just like he likes his coffee. The second panel shows smilin’ Sammy slurping his cup and saying, “Sixteen years old!”

I had originally thought about saving that half liter of frozen coffee for another decade, just to test the premise. Adolescence may be long behind us, but our recollections of sixteen and seventeen year-old girls (who looked convincingly like women at the time) are still quite vivid. I thought perhaps that Bud and I could do a test when the time came to see if sixteen-year-old coffee measured up to Sammy’s comparison.

That seems less likely now, in light of my recent dismissal and impending relocation. I am not going to try to move a block of ice from Ohio to Texas, and I have my doubts that Bud remains as committed to the joke as I was when I first put it in the freezer.

update 230305: A year and many miles later, it is now seven years old (and counting). Said block remains safely frozen in Westexas. It turns out I’m sentimental and weak (who could guess?) and a half kilogram was small enough a load to fit into my cooler with all the other goodies I’d packed. It sat in L’Historienne’s freezer for a few months until she fetched it up to me here in Geezer Tower. Perhaps once Bud’s shed whatever’s still riding him, we can revisit some fun. There’s almost ten years left to sort this shit out. I remain optimistic — unless that jab does him in first!

20 April 2019

Workin’ at the QuikkStopp-by-the-Interstate I get many questions.  Mostly they’re of the nature of “Do you have milk?” or “Are they not open?”  Generally, I can answer them directly and the customer gets what he wants, or learns that we don’t have it, and we part in peace. 

Sometimes I am obliged to confess my ignorance. 
Rather than plaudits for my candor, I am scorned. 
“Don’t you work here?” they demand, indignantly.

When they’re jerks, that’s my permission to defer to the standards that they assert. “Sure, I work here.  And the next time you’re at the ER, ask the janitor there to take a look at your owie.  After all, he works there.”

“It’s not the same thing!”

Other times, when the Feds, the State, the County, the Municipality, or Management directs me to NOT honor a sale (usually for drugs), or other egregious offense to their dignity, they demand to know,
“Are you the manager?”

Once I again, I’ll defer to the customer’s call to crankiness: 
“Of course I am.  Who else is going to be eating your shit at three o’clock in the morning?  Obviously I’m the manager.  Seriously, what kind of manager would delegate an unpleasant task to a subordinate…
other than ALL OF THEM?”

19 July 2019 — Rhetorical Wins
If you ask questions faster than I can answer them, that means you win.
If I’m not as upset as you are, that means I don’t care as much.
If I don’t talk as fast, I’m not as funny.
If I don’t shout as loudly as you, that means I’m not as confident.

update 191218:
Customer w/Russian accent: You have Putin sticker on car?
Me: Da! Is thumb in eye of Democrat fools who think Trump does Putin favor by killing Russian soldiers and Syrian janitors.

update 200504: What is the proper response to “OK Boomer”?
(1) “Yes?  And…?”  Because if it’s English, then it isn’t a statement yet.
(2) “Please millsplain that.”  Because it is clearly NOT English.
(3) “Lick yourself, bitch.”
(4)  “Go fuck yourself with rusty garden tools.”
Sorry… it was kind of a trick question. 
Responses (3) and (4) are ALWAYS appropriate whenever someone seeks to denigrate your perspective or opinion.

Princess Pam is the creation of Bruce Jones & Dave Stevens. 
Black Canary is the creation of Bob Kanigher & Carmine Infantino.  
Stephanie Starr is the creation of Mike Friedrich & Dick Giordano. 
Their images are reproduced by Piracy Press 
for purposes of analysis and scholarship. 
Stories are selected with the greatest of discrimination,
but even numbered issues of Daring Love are specifically edited
with the prurient interests of atavistic fanboys in mind.  
Reader discretion is advised.

“Gettin’ Technical”  (30 October 2013)
You know, quoting the Bible or the Constitution verbatim, or citing other relevant facts in an argument – is the didactic pedantic’s way of “keepin’ it real.”

“Which Annoys Your Leftie Friends More?” (28 January 2018)
The fact that you never vote to rob your neighbors, or the fact that you call voting to rob your neighbors “voting to rob your neighbors”?
In my case I’d have to go with the latter offense. Most of my friends are long over my peculiar voting policy (unless they still find it amusing). I think it may be their subconscious realization that voting is generally useless. However, they still hate that I won’t endorse their lies or larceny. Of course, I expect that “His Serenity Now” will again insist that he responds “more in sadness than in anger.”

“Not Too Bright, I Does No Right” (14 September 2018)
They tells me that the selfish CANNOT care about others, BECAUSE of the dictionary, and that “they” and “them” and “their” and “they’re” are all singular, IN SPITE OF the dictionary. The conclusion are clear — I does no right.

(18 October 2018) Workin’ at the Quikk Stopp by the Interstate may be only a step up from livin’ in a van down by the river. A small step, but it is a step, and in the right direction.

“Necessary Polarity”                      (9 December 2018)
There are generally only two classes of data under a bell curve:  norms and deviants.  They are mathematical descriptions of expectations alone and can be taken as either slurs or commendations as befits beholders.
Celebrate diversity?  Sure.
Why so serious?  Because I understand both English and Arithmetic.

“Why HR is so Reasonable” (9 March 2019)
It makes perfect sense. Who’d want to work with a productive, efficient, resourceful asshole, when he could be carrying a charming and affable parasite through every shift?

“Just say ‘WEIRDO’, it’s Easier Than Thinking (30 June 2019)
When Easy Identification Resists Doctrinaire Orthodoxy, the lazy rhetorician will start dissembling and misdirecting and marginalizing. “Weirdo“ is not an affirmative description of a person‘s appearance, demeanor, or character, specifically, though it can allude to all of that and more. No, “Weird“ tells you what someone is NOT rather than what he IS. He is not normal, he is not average, he exhibits some characteristics of appearance or behavior or ideology that seem to be from the far ends of the bell curves. He‘s not what you would expect, he doesn‘t fit your paradigm, he stands out, he‘s weird. This is not just an “All-American” conceit, it is nearly universal in application. MY tribal superstitions are natural laws, whereas YOUR cherished traditions are arrant nonsense.

“Unnecessary Disparity”                 (20 July 2019)
People demand the truth until they get it. Then I’m just being rude.

(190907) Anyone who refers to the united States as “Our Democracy” has done us all a great favor. Such usage identifies the user as an historical illiterate, and shows his lack of understanding or appreciation for constitutional republican order. We can readily infer that anything that flows from such a corrupt premise (like pharmacological advice from a Phlogiston Chemist) will be of little value, if not actually deleterious.

“You know, you don’t HAVE to be an asshole” (8 September 2019)
Of course not.   No one HAS to be an asshole.
It‘s just that, after so many people show up with their belligerent tones, their contentious moods, or their multitude of annoying questions, too many of us feel like we‘re being pressured to choose.
At that time, we choose to NOT be the toilet paper in the relationship.

“Class Clarity”                                      (24 December 2019)
The only people more difficult to understand than tech geeks are everybody else.

“The Return of Carnac the Magnificent” (9 March 2020)
for Ed & Johnny, R.I.P.   “Sim Salla Bim!”
The answer is:  “One s’more with veal in,” and the question was: 
“How do you order a graham cracker sandwich with a thin slice of baby calf in the middle, surrounded by chocolate and marshmallow?”
The answer is:  “Na’m good,” and the question was: 
“What did you think of your tour in Southeast Asia?”

“#[T] = #[S] + #[F]” (23 March, 2020)
“Do or not do.  There is no try.”
TV or not TV?  There are no electrons?
Yoda [and others] is a fool to deny the obvious evidence of dependent conditions.  And he is clearly innumerate.  In fact, there are lots of tries.  Every success is preceded by a try, and every failure is preceded by a try.  Therefore, the total number of tries in the universe must be equal to the sum of the number of successes plus the number of failures, and that figure is NOT zero (by lots!)
If there were no tries, there could be no do, nor any do not. 
Maybe “fool” was a little generous.

“Now, Less than Ever” (20 July 2020)
“Adjusting” to retirement is hilarious. The way it looks so far is that once I hit the beautiful Six Six Six and tax victims start kicking in for my groceries and electricity, I will be getting a raise and a lot more time off. What’s to adjust? I hear the horror stories on the radio frequently (“If you’ve got two hundred k blowable, take a flier with one of our risky schemes!”) and I fail to get it. What’s to prepare? I’ll be getting a raise! With a lifetime average income of not quite 20k/year, it’s hard NOT to improve on it. Oh how oh how oh how will I ever “adjust” to working less for more money?

210121 — Collision versus Collusion
When my desires collided with reality, I experienced frustration.
When my expectations collided with reality, I experienced disappointment.
When disappointment colluded with frustration, I experienced marriage.

22 January 2017

Drunk chicks can call each other cunts and sluts and bitches all night long and never a tender feeling gets hurt. Don’t you dare, you brute, or you’ll never lay a filthy paw on her silky drawers again!

The brothers can call each other coon and spook and jigaboo all afternoon, it’s all in good fun. Now let Jackie Chan show up, smile broadly, and ask, “What up, muh nigga?” and by golly do the hijinks ensue!

Whether it’s athletes in the locker room, or cops on the beat, or nurses on the nightshift, every cadre develops its grips and shiboleths that say “It’s okeh. I’m one of you guys. I’m allowed to talk this way.”

With GIs, it’s “chickenhawk.” As offensive as it is to watch civilian politicians on TV drone on about America’s great sacrifices overseas, it is almost worse to see non-vets and non-GIs wearing camo-print leisurewear as their way of “supporting the troops.” However, just as a paraplegic can be educated about baseball, so too can folks outside the military family speak knowledgeably about foreign policy and use of force and the tragedy versus atrocity of collateral damage. That’s not what bugs me. In its proper pejorative sense, “chickenhawks” generally lack coherent arguments, personal experience, or years of scholarship to back up their cant. They seem far too often to be proponents of, “Let’s you and him fight.”

So, while I have no respect for chickenhawks, not every non-vet, non-GI proponent of war (involving someone else’s kid) is necessarily a chickenhawk. But just about anyone I hear in the street, on the job, or in a bar saying “We oughta just go over there and kick Ahmed’s (or Ivan’s or Fritz’ or Jose’s) ass and take his oil (or vodka or schnapps or tequila.)” probably IS.

So, unless you’re a vet yourself, or still in uniform (casual salute), don’t let me hear you saying “chickenhawk” about an otherwise anonymous war booster unless you can do it in an original or amusing fashion.

You’re on our turf here, and we’re sensitive about that shit.

SSgt Gene, USAF

Chameleon Boy, Saturn Girl, Phantom Girl, Colossal Boy, Gigi Cusimano, Cosmic Boy, Triplicate Girl (all depicted by Steve Lightle), Shvaugn Erin, and Jan (Element Lad) Arrah (both depicted by Colleen Doran & Al Gordon), are all properties of Detective Comics and Warner Communications.  Their images are reproduced by Piracy Press for purposes of analysis and scholarship.  If anything, their use here constitutes free advertisement for DC‘s properties at the considerable expense of Piracy Press and Greigh Area Associates.

Stories are selected with the greatest of discrimination, but even numbered issues of Daring Love are specifically edited with the prurient interests of atavistic fanboys in mind.  Reader discretion is advised.