Baseball and football are pretty American cultural pillars. Other sports are more popular elsewhere. I lived in a small farming village in northern England for several years as a child so happily my early life was free of the obsessive zeal Americans have towards their sports--Europeans have other sporting addictions, principally soccer, but it isn't quite as culturally pervasive. It doesn't seep into everything with quite the same fervor, nor is it treated like some kind of sacred belief. Nobody gave a fuck if you didn't care about it. American sports mania was kind of a culture shock for me.
Shortly after moving to the states, the Superbowl came to what I assume was some kind of historic showdown between the Dallas Cowboys and Pittsburgh Steelers--it was a big deal, even though I didn't know then and still don't know why. Suddenly everyone in school was talking about it nonstop and doing so on a level of comfortable familiarity that made me simultaneously really confused and really bored and really frustrated. Why did everybody care so much? What was the big deal? It was a stupid fucking sport's game and I have no interest in sports, I have no idea who plays what, and am neither interested in nor capable of providing opinions on the matter. Yet it was like some kind of preoccupational plague. In one particular incident that stands out in my mind, the kids around me in the lunch queue chatted amiably with the school principal--not ordinarily an overtly talkative or friendly guy--about who they thought would win and who they wanted to win. It was mind-boggling. The frustration was due to nobody wanting to discuss anything else as well as being labelled some kind of pariah over not giving a shit.
I didn't care about it.
I still don't.
It's still just as frustrating and mystifying to me that this sport-related zeal overtakes the population at the end of sport seasons. My parents had serious fallouts with otherwise good friends over the 2000 Yankees/Red Sox World Series. Over a fucking game. My dad became murderously angry when his teams failed to perform to his expectations. (I don't say that his mood depended on their victories--he's a Green Bay fan and I know enough about them to know they're not a good team.) Some famous coach took over the Washington Redskin football team when I was a senior in high school and it was all anyone could talk about. That I had no opinion and didn't care marked me out as almost a terrorist. I wish I was exaggerating. People honestly treat it like religious fanatics treat denominational differences--often with enough passionate opinions to somehow justify getting legitimately angry when a friend or family member dares to enjoy any other team. Or, worse, a RIVAL team. A woman in the store a few months ago was talking about her son's preference in NY football teams (I don't know which) in a tone of voice that clearly betrayed high emotional strain. This kind of disowning would be excessive for the loved ones of Ted Bundy. People routinely do it over superficial sport rivalries.
Over the years I've learned to tune it out but every now and then it just takes on a complete cultural saturation that's impossible to ignore and has far-reaching effects on my acceptance within a community.
Since I don't watch any sport I have no idea which games are in season at any given time, or when they have their big playoffs. I know the Superbowl is usually the beginning of the year but I never have the faintest idea when because I literally do not give enough of a fuck to remember. So I only found out it was nearly that time in the last few weeks, and then only because nobody could stop talking about the New York Giants. People have been going nuts talking about Giants. People call daily asking about clothing with the Giants logo. Poeple talk with me about it like I understand them and demand to know my affiliation and opinion. I'm genuinely shunned or treated coldly when I reveal a total lack of interest.
I don't know who's playing what. I don't care which teams go to which games. I don't care who wins. I don't plan on just humouring sport fans by going to a Superbowl party at which I will have zero interest in the main attraction. I don't even watch the big games for the famously complicated Superbowl ads. I do not fucking care. Stop talking to me about it. And stop treating me like shit because I don't have a fanatical obsession with brain-damaged overgrown steroid-pumped high school jocks in shoulder pads and tights who get paid more money per game than I make in a year.
Just knock it the fuck off and leave me alone.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
a machine gun to a yoyo fight
I'm not saying rage is the modern disease or anything--chiefly because I'm too scared. I'm just saying that if we as a human population have escalated to the kind of explosive tempers and blind hatred that would drive us to respond to road rage with a chainsaw?
I dunno, maybe we could, like, enroll in anger management classes.
Just a thought.
I dunno, maybe we could, like, enroll in anger management classes.
Just a thought.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
word-of-mouth?
I'm aware that all kinds of weird plastic surgery procedures exist that seem totally superfluous or stupid to me. It's your money and your body, so do whatever the fuck you want with it--provided you accept that I am just as entitled to laugh at you as you are to get it in the first place. I even knew they did surgeries for tightening the saggy vagina that has grown to cavernous proportions from a few too many childbirths and/or penises. There are even good reasons to have it done--namely from countries in which a woman's worth, and sometimes her life, depend on being able to prove or give the appearance of virginity upon marriage. Or for women who have sex with men who just can't get enough of that pre-pubescent poontang.
But I wasn't aware that cosmetic hoo-haa surgery existed or that anybody thought they needed it to begin with. I didn't know there was a vagina beauty standard so deeply-ingrained it made women nervous about one of the two physical features that men DON'T usually have aesthetic opinions on. (The other being breasts.) It's called labiaplasty and involves making the labia symmetrical and I guess prettier, even though it's something even I can't find a single fuck to be self-conscious of. (And that's saying a lot.) But it exists and is apparently popular and commonly accepted enough that it can be advertised on a radio station. It wasn't even a satellite radio station. Just a regular ol' Joe Schmoe station. Advertising cosmetic pussy surgery.
Is there ANY part of the female anatomy not subject to ruthless scrutiny??
But I wasn't aware that cosmetic hoo-haa surgery existed or that anybody thought they needed it to begin with. I didn't know there was a vagina beauty standard so deeply-ingrained it made women nervous about one of the two physical features that men DON'T usually have aesthetic opinions on. (The other being breasts.) It's called labiaplasty and involves making the labia symmetrical and I guess prettier, even though it's something even I can't find a single fuck to be self-conscious of. (And that's saying a lot.) But it exists and is apparently popular and commonly accepted enough that it can be advertised on a radio station. It wasn't even a satellite radio station. Just a regular ol' Joe Schmoe station. Advertising cosmetic pussy surgery.
Is there ANY part of the female anatomy not subject to ruthless scrutiny??
denial and guilt
Geezis christ, I'm going on another writing binge. What the hell is wrong with me?? Besides the obvious, I mean, because frankly that's a gimmie.
I never thought about this before, but it just occurred to me to question the universally accepted taboo of peeing in swimming pools. I mean, we all instinctively recoil in disgust and dutifully declare it gross and unsanitary, but WHY? There isn't a reason for this. Yes, pee is gross, but as far as public swimming pools go urine is probably one of the cleanest things you're likely to encounter in the water. You have grosser stuff in your sink, yet we all act like we're appalled at the notion of someone releasing two or three ounces of sterile bodily fluids into heavily chlorinated water where it's immediately and harmlessly diluted.
You're already soaking wet and urine is much less likely to give you syphilis or bubonic plague than the filthy bathroom through which you would otherwise have to trot barefoot.
Totally unrelated: Years ago when I was still in college, I would often see the same guy out for a jog during my commute. I remember him only because he would frequently be wearing a pair of highlighter-vomit-pink gym shorts. It seemed--and still seems--perfectly logical to me. If I was a man and wore neon pink hot pants on a regular basis, I'd want to make sure I was able to outrun everyone else, too.
I never thought about this before, but it just occurred to me to question the universally accepted taboo of peeing in swimming pools. I mean, we all instinctively recoil in disgust and dutifully declare it gross and unsanitary, but WHY? There isn't a reason for this. Yes, pee is gross, but as far as public swimming pools go urine is probably one of the cleanest things you're likely to encounter in the water. You have grosser stuff in your sink, yet we all act like we're appalled at the notion of someone releasing two or three ounces of sterile bodily fluids into heavily chlorinated water where it's immediately and harmlessly diluted.
You're already soaking wet and urine is much less likely to give you syphilis or bubonic plague than the filthy bathroom through which you would otherwise have to trot barefoot.
Totally unrelated: Years ago when I was still in college, I would often see the same guy out for a jog during my commute. I remember him only because he would frequently be wearing a pair of highlighter-vomit-pink gym shorts. It seemed--and still seems--perfectly logical to me. If I was a man and wore neon pink hot pants on a regular basis, I'd want to make sure I was able to outrun everyone else, too.
personal vernacular
Here's a new genre for my ramblings: words in my vocabulary that haven't seen the proverbial light of day in a zillion billion years because, for some reason or another, I no longer have a reason to use them. A lot of them have to do with horses and their related needs and shit because I rode and for nine years and taught for four until I was nineteen (instructors lied about my age and paid me under the table because it's not technically legal to work with or around animals until you're eighteen in most of the US), most of which are confusing to non-horse-people or need to be explained in more words than it would take to just use the descriptive term in conversation. Some general terms like 'mare' and 'gelding' and broad terminology for tack (aka, riding gear) are usually common knowledge but others are obscure enough that it's more trouble than it's worth to use them. Mostly for very specific markings or features, like 'forelock' for that bit of fringe on the forehead or 'frog' for the triangle-shaped lump of tissue in the concave bit of the hoof. (I never have figured out why it was called that. It's the most sensitive area on any given horse's body apart from the genitals--they can feel the vibrations of approaching potential threats through the ground long before anybody will see or hear it, and damage to the frog can cripple a horse for life.)
One term I hardly used even while I was working with horses is 'wall-eye'. Even horse people sometimes don't know that it means. It's just a fancy term for the one blue eye characteristic of a common minor mutation. (Horses rarely have two blue eyes, for reasons I have never understood.) Sometimes it's applied to a horse with any colour eye but the normal brown, but technically it's specific to the one blue eye. Usually the pupil is quite distorted, as well. I used to think it was actually really special but as far as physical oddities go it's a pretty common thing to find in horses. I remember it almost exclusively found in horses with light colouration, or at least mostly-white faces and pink skin. (Like people horses come in 'dark' and 'light' skin tones but unlike people they can pretty commonly have patches of each on their bodies.)
Another term I didn't really use was 'god's thumbprint'. It's another abnormality you sometimes find but I only saw it a handful of times. It's a small finger-sized indentation in the neck or chest area but I don't know what the technical name is for it--I don't even know that other people really use this term for it or not or just call it a 'neck dent' or something. The glurge-heavy story has its roots in Islam, of all places, in which horses play a significant role because of their cultural importance. (Only the Native Americans love their horses more.) Supposedly god told Muhammed to deprive his horses of water for a few days and then release them to a watering hole before blowing his war trumpet to summon them back; whichever horses responded to the call at the expense of their own thirst were to be the ones he should breed for god's race of superhorses or something and five mares turned around and came back when summoned. God 'touched' each of them to protect them and left his thumbprint so he'd know which were the descendents of the chosen horses.
A cute story but I've only ever heard it once.
One term I hardly used even while I was working with horses is 'wall-eye'. Even horse people sometimes don't know that it means. It's just a fancy term for the one blue eye characteristic of a common minor mutation. (Horses rarely have two blue eyes, for reasons I have never understood.) Sometimes it's applied to a horse with any colour eye but the normal brown, but technically it's specific to the one blue eye. Usually the pupil is quite distorted, as well. I used to think it was actually really special but as far as physical oddities go it's a pretty common thing to find in horses. I remember it almost exclusively found in horses with light colouration, or at least mostly-white faces and pink skin. (Like people horses come in 'dark' and 'light' skin tones but unlike people they can pretty commonly have patches of each on their bodies.)
Another term I didn't really use was 'god's thumbprint'. It's another abnormality you sometimes find but I only saw it a handful of times. It's a small finger-sized indentation in the neck or chest area but I don't know what the technical name is for it--I don't even know that other people really use this term for it or not or just call it a 'neck dent' or something. The glurge-heavy story has its roots in Islam, of all places, in which horses play a significant role because of their cultural importance. (Only the Native Americans love their horses more.) Supposedly god told Muhammed to deprive his horses of water for a few days and then release them to a watering hole before blowing his war trumpet to summon them back; whichever horses responded to the call at the expense of their own thirst were to be the ones he should breed for god's race of superhorses or something and five mares turned around and came back when summoned. God 'touched' each of them to protect them and left his thumbprint so he'd know which were the descendents of the chosen horses.
A cute story but I've only ever heard it once.
deadly
Shit that kills people:
Plague.
War.
Genocide.
Accidents attributed to gross human miscalculation.
Sport riots.
EXCUSE ME, WTF IS WRONG WITH THIS LIST PLZKTHNX.
Plague.
War.
Genocide.
Accidents attributed to gross human miscalculation.
Sport riots.
EXCUSE ME, WTF IS WRONG WITH THIS LIST PLZKTHNX.
bad and worse
Okay so retail sucks. We know this.
But the suckiest parts aren't the obviously sucky parts, like bad customers. Bad customers are a part of life. You deal with it by punching tables and nobody blames you because they could hear the yelling as far away as the Yukon Territory. No, the worst part far and away for me is the customers that are ANNOYING AS FUCK, but really really nice.
I hate them.
Because I can't hate them.
When a customer is an assbiscuit, you're totally justified getting angry and wanting to punch them. When they're super nice, you have no excuse for wanting to inflict egregious bodily harm and have no socially acceptable outlets for your frustration.
Also, you know it was bad when your managers BOTH laugh so hard they almost pee themselves. When one does it, it was bad. When two do it, it was REALLY bad.
But the suckiest parts aren't the obviously sucky parts, like bad customers. Bad customers are a part of life. You deal with it by punching tables and nobody blames you because they could hear the yelling as far away as the Yukon Territory. No, the worst part far and away for me is the customers that are ANNOYING AS FUCK, but really really nice.
I hate them.
Because I can't hate them.
When a customer is an assbiscuit, you're totally justified getting angry and wanting to punch them. When they're super nice, you have no excuse for wanting to inflict egregious bodily harm and have no socially acceptable outlets for your frustration.
Also, you know it was bad when your managers BOTH laugh so hard they almost pee themselves. When one does it, it was bad. When two do it, it was REALLY bad.
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