Work is really busy at the moment so I’ve got anger management issues. Dull rants on topics no one cares about relieves the stress.
On that note: Welcome to my latest post!
Things I hate:
- The argument that decimate means one in ten, when it doesn’t
The meaning of words change over time. Yes, two thousand years ago, Latin speaking centurions didn’t decimate opponents and probably weren’t too keen on hearing the word at all.
Today, however, if something is decimated it means a large percentage of it was destroyed. Words change over time, mate. That’s the beauty of the English language. If someone tells you they are gay, do you clap your hands together and say “I’m happy too!”? I bet you don’t.
- Cars with big exhaust
While I’m not particularly into cars, I enjoy seeing and hearing a good muscle car. There’s something about a classic 1970s Gran Turino or Road Runner V8 grumbling as it drives by. Less impressive is a Subaru Impreza Hatch with an exhaust pipe you could roll a basketball into.
I fail to understand the point. If your car was tough, it would sound tough. Isn’t having a large exhaust saying “My car isn’t tough enough to sound tough, so I’ve reduced the noise dampening equipment in an effort to suggest I have a larger engine that the one that currently resides under the bonnet”? Isn’t is simply saying “I’m nothing but a 4 cylinder wannabe”? Or “my penis is inadequate, what’s that noise? Look over there!”
Leave your Mum’s zoom-zoom Mazda 2 at home.
Cats. Seriously – WTF? They have no point as fauna or as human companions and should be completely eradicated from the Australian continent. As far as I hate (and this should really be a separate bullet point) people who say “Love it or leave it” I say this: Don’t like compulsory voting? Wanna cat? The answer is the same: Fuck off overseas.
I don’t really hate chess, but I’m hoping to score some chess troll boy-love in the comment section to boost my stats, so officially: Chess and StarCraft are games for losers who grow up to buy small three cylinder cars with large exhausts. There are no hot chicks playing StarCraft on the other side of the world. It’s just another guy a little hairier and a little fatter than you who likes to flirt. Thanks to the NDM for the heads-up
- Art that isn’t about truth and beauty
Art fucks generally bitch about how little money they get from the government and whine about the good ol’ days when high art was appreciated by the masses. Examples like classical music fucks with their ironically discordant post-modern claptrap. Fucks who paint shit and tell you you are too stupid to understand it. Well here’s a thought, dickwads. Discordant music isn’t actually music. Splotches on canvas does not make a picture. Try beauty. Try truth. Try Van Gogh mo fo’s. Then perhaps money will flow. Or just do porn FFS.
- Corporate hell
The idea that we are all happier than ever in history is a lie. The idea that Human Resources are there to defend your rights is a lie. Sure, we may be longer lived than any generation and usually far warmer, better fed with comfortable beds but our lives are ruined by this fucking bullshit existence called ‘career’. I say to young people: It is a trap. Don’t believe the sea-change lie either – it a clever part of the trap that says come in, you can leave anytime. Don’t get out – just DON’T GET IN. Do you want to be a bitter middle aged Dad writing blogs that no one reads? Which brings me to:
TV sucks your life away. When you are on your deathbed and your relatives gather around to hear you speak your final words of wisdom, it’ll be a bit of a letdown if, instead of regaling them with stories of fucking beautiful woman while stoned off your brain on perfect sandy beaches metres away from spanish police officers, you can only say “I still don’t get the last episode of Lost” . Turn off the telly! Talk to your family! Free up time for books and Twitter! I totally plan to do all this one day!
- Young people’s phone conversations better done in a private space but aren’t.
Large corporate IT departments tends to burn through young people quickly. They arrive – all shiny faced and enthusiastic with their coding skills and university fake-projects along the lines of “change the fucking world” and get ground down by actual IT work “This code errors forty-two times an hour, when it does, press the re-submit button and monitor. In four months, if you’re any good, we’ll give you another section of code to monitor. Actual coding is done in China by some guy who is just as smart, just as enthusiastic but more qualified, speaks eight languages and earns $80 a month”. But I digress.
There’s always some newbie sitting near me who is in love, but fighting with his girlfriend. He does it aloud on the call but doesn’t realise that while there is a background office hum, his one-side conversation along the lines of “just pay it the fine” and “I don’t like cats, I told you not to get me one for my birthday” or “It’ll only be a few drinks, you’ll love the guys” or my personal favourite “Maybe you should leave him, Mum” cuts through that hum in a fashion that only a pubescent quaver can. Gtalk is your friend. Use it. Love it. Spare me.
- People who don’t like compulsory voting
I love voting. I look forward to elections being called. I enjoy being cynical and also being hopeful. Australia is one of six countries in the world that has been continuously democratic for one hundred years – the other five being The United States of America, Canada, The United Kingdom, New Zealand and Switzerland. Every other country in the world has been something other than democratic in this time frame. That has nothing to do with voting of course, I just have always liked that fact. House hasn’t been burnt down by mobs lately? Haven’t been stoned for your beliefs? Stoned with rocks? Vagina not sown up to ensure your purity?
You don’t really think about that on election day too often, eh? Australia doesn’t ask much of its citizens. Pay your taxes, and occasionally turn up at the polling booth, have your name checked off and if you like, vote. So if you don’t like it, fuck off. Google Map “Sydney International Airport” and fly the fuck out. With your cat.
Grumble grumble. The end.