Probably just as well I don't carry a gun.

ForrestGump

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Sun May-14-06 03:30 AM
Original message

Probably just as well I don't carry a gun.

Edited on Sun May-14-06 03:31 AM by ForrestGump

There'd be a few more dead fuckwits laying around if I did.

Tonight I decided to walk to the supermarket to get dinner and lots of OJ. It's maybe a couple of miles each way and a quick walk for me. On the way there, a carload of lads drove past and let out a yell as they passed me...not an intelligible yell, if they were even capable of such, but just the standard nonverbal "bwaahhh" vocalization of the drunken fratboy fuckknuckle and its variations that I encounter all too often in the course of my work, the "hey, look at me, I'm a loud-for-no-reason American who likes to just yell all the time" who's so endearing when traveling overseas or, indeed, when let out for any reason. Making noise seems to confirm, to them, that they actually exist and might matter (they're wrong about the latter, invariably).

Oh, yeah...oh, how scary...like, "boo." Idiots.

That kind of thing's happened to me a few times. Moron attacks.

On the way back from the store, I felt a meteor shower of things whack me hard all over my back and legs and a car, that swerved into the bicycle lane to get closer to me, roared past and swerved back into its traveling lane. Don't know if it was the same car as before, but it was similar in appearance. What hit me were chicken bones, used napkins, styrofoam cups, and other refuse from a meal that I hope spikes the fuckers' lipid levels so high they fucking die on the spot tonight.

I tend to be pretty calm when Stuff Happens so my immediate reaction was to give them the finger while they could still see me, in hopes they'd come back. I don't care if there were two or four of them, I'd have killed the little cocksuckers. Besides, all bullies are cowards, and scum who'd do that kind of thing are bullies, plain and simple.

I hate bullies. I don't just have contempt for them, or dislike them, or find them objectionable to an extreme -- I hate them. Oddly enough, I don't hate them because I was plagued by them as a kid...actually, I really wasn't, and I protected smaller kids against them in primary school. A couple of gangs of bullies tried me in high school but I beat the crap out of one group's ringleader and won a verbal battle that made another group's alpha male look like a complete moron, and I won their respect in the end (though the feeling was never mutual while they still bullied others). So it doesn't matter that I never was bullied, in the classic sense (been bullied more than a few times since, in other ways, by bad employers and so on)...I still hate bullies. Hate is an ugly thing, perhaps, and more the province of the other side of the socio-political fence -- unreasoning, unprovoked hate, anyway (bigotry, basically, in its many forms) -- but there's no other word for it and no euphemism that does it justice. I hate bullies. Hate them.

That's one reason why I hate, with such passion, the neocon fuckwits who infest message boards on the world's Internet. One reason is, of course, that they are destroying the world, or aiding or otherwise enabling and supporting those who are destroying the planet. The other reason is that they are invariably bullies. Bullies are scum of the earth.

I'm not saying that these chicken tossers were neocons, or even Republicans -- odds are good they're just your basic Ignoramus americanus -- even though it's more than likely that they're not toting Kerry-Edwards stickers and Greepeace decals on their car and it's also more than likely that they'd identify with the bullying attitude inherent to neocons and their stooges and neocon-inspired foreign policy. I don't care if they're Greenies hopped up on wheatgrass juice, they're still utter and complete pigs who deserve a major hurting.

Lots of people -- my ex-wife, for example -- are aghast at anyone wishing someone was dead. I'm not a big fan of it myself, really, but -- to my mind -- good people die every day, so why should we be sad when a slimeball bites the big one? Sure, there's the butterfly-in-China effect, in that we never know what good that person may have directly or indirectly set in motion. For example, perhaps such human refuse could have a child who, against the odds, goes against their likely awful parenting to grow up and solve some of the world's problems but, being parsimonious for a second, that's not especially likely. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't grow fond of the idea of that carload of fuckwits tonight to end up wrapped around a telephone pole...not necessarily with loss of life, but with some heavy karma all around. And I wouldn't feel remorse if one of them died...ooo...throw your hands up in horror, if you must, but I'm just telling the unvarnished truth. If I DID tote a gun, I'd possibly have fired in hopes of getting a tire but I wouldn't be especially upset if I winged one of the sons of bitches, I think. Tough, dude. That's the risk you take when you attack someone else.

Of course, the disclaimer here is that I am still mad because of the attack -- it was assault, and I had a right to defend myself -- and because, there being no handy intersection where I could catch them and kick the hell out of their car and maybe drag one of the pigs through an open window so I could play basketball with his cranium, I couldn't do anything about it. I don't like that.

This sort of thing has happened to me three times in the last year. I don't think it's happened to me before -- if it has, I can't remember now --and it's never happened outside Las Vegas. The first time, a trucker threw a cup of red soda or Slurpee type stuff at me as I walked along. The second time a group of meataxe fuckwits interchangeable with tonight's posse threw what I hope was water at me. It is assault, plain and simple, and there's also the unknown risk of biological hazard...grease spots on my clothes aside, I don't need the lipid-laden drool of syphilitic motherfuckers getting anywhere near my person.

The reason why it's bullying is the asymmetry in power and vulnerability...I may be bigger than two of these little nambypambys put together, and able to tear body parts off them if they tried to touch me under other circumstances, but I was at a disadvantage in terms of protection and speed when I'm walking and they're in a car. They would not have done the same if they were also on foot. There's another layer, too: people walking are second-class citizens, at least in the West (well, at least in SoCal and, apparently, Nevada outside of the Vegas Strip). They deserve to have crap thrown at them. People walking are either suspicious or worthy of derision, or both.

Okay, so maybe I don't hope they end up wrapped around a telephone pole, though the wake-up call might do them some good. No. I hope the fuckers run out of gas and have two flat tires in the middle of Death Valley, at noon.

Scum.