03/03/2004 - 4:27 p.m. | the more you know...

So, obviously, when I start getting hate mail or whatever, it sets me to thinking. It also apparently sets me to having more than a few dreams about people (like Buffy the Vampire Slayer) dying. Also playing football - with guns? - in a K-mart with Kyle and Dave Chappelle. But mostly it gets me thinking. Now, obviously, I do not think of myself as a truly bad person. And I don't see how anyone could think of me that way. But some do, of course. I'm sure. And it all goes back to spin and who gets to you first. Obviously, I am going to try to spin everything in my favor because this is my story, and I can't have an asshole protagonist, right? But, talk to someone else, and they could probably take the same stuff and make me look like a shithead. It's all relative, I guess. And they could very well be right - it's hard for me to say, objectively. The only way to know for sure is to wait around until I am Judged or whatever. I mean, I can try my best to keep my comments to myself, but I still think the things I would say. Socially, I guess it's better (because everyone wants everyone to like them), but on the inside, I'd be just as morally reprehensible as I am now. Then again, a psycho killer could use the same logic ("Well, thinking about stabbing someone in the face fifty times is just as bad as doing, so I might as well just get to it!"), so I guess I'm just fucked.

And then, strangely enough, I start thinking about religion. OK, so the Ten Commandments, right? They more or less tell you the basic guidelines of what to do and not do. And I start to think, well, it's telling me what physical actions I can and cannot do. Don't kill people. Be good to your parents. But, does that automatically imply that it's also telling me what to think? I mean, I could be very attracted to someone's girlfriend, and I would never, you know, jump on it a) because I do not have that sort of stud power and b) because God said not to covet. But then, to decide that I'm not going to covet, at some point, I had to at least ponder coveting, and that's bad, too! At least I think it is. So, am I supposed to just resist temptation or not have it at all? Oh, the things I do to not read about the eyes even more.

We all need our little taste of power, it seems. Every morning, there's this little kid in these bizarre white shoes who always takes his sweet time crossing the street. I always thought it was because he didn't want to go to school or because he was mildly retarded (Little girls always look adorable little elves, and little boys always look a bit like cretins), but upon closer inspection, he seems to sort of strut as he ambles across. I think he gets off on the power of making all these big cars and grownups wait for him. I can respect that. I mean, after getting shat upon by most everyone for my ridiculous little vest and sign, today I got to use my one little bit of crossing guard authority: Calling in a license plate on some dick who just completely ignored me. You can tell I'm just drunk with power, can't you? I think people would give us crossing guards a lot more respect if we were more like real guards. They should give me a pike!

Er - the medieval weapon, not the fish.

I woke to the sound of "Jerry Springer" today. Today's episode was about really fat people. Let's see... there were the three guys who lived in a trailer (called the Food Fort) and did nothing but eat all day long... that is, until Jerry sent in some people to tear apart the Fort right in front of them. "Get the food! Get the food!" she croaked over and over. More importantly, there was this one guy who had some sort of food and sex fetish. And not like the relatively normal chocolate and whipped cream stuff. They rolled out what was essentially this big platter with this absolutely huge, disgusting black woman covered in old fish and meat and sauces and God knows what else, and the dude started wigging out and taking his clothes off and getting up on that. It was one of the most horrible things I have ever seen in my life. Then, later on, when the food fetish guy's girlfriend came on and was all pissed at him for cheating on her (because she wouldn't do the food play), the platter beast lurched off her little cart and started chasing around the security guards, who were throwing up at the mere sight (or smell?) of her. Meanwhile, she just giggled. Now, honeslty, I'm not to that level, am I?

And now, my sincerest promise that I will not make fun of someone just because they are a redhead. The group will not be judged as a whole. I will look to their individual characteristics. And then make fun of them. Just like everyone else. I promise.

It's like equality now!

But think - maybe I will run into a few of those exceptions that prove the rule (e.g. Dale's sister!), and they shall not automatically be cast in my mental dungheap. And we're all better for that, aren't we?