Neo Kervoskia
02-03-2006, 23:57
The title is a reference to an internet video and an insult for bourgeois socialists. Enjoy. :)
Dirty Kuffar and Champagne Socialists
The Asshole Manifesto
Parts I and II
PART I.
And Asshole Was His Name
I am a jerk, a cynic, a madman, but the moniker that best suits my eccentric and sardonic behaviour is asshole. Call me traditional, but nothing says all of those things more than a simple two syllable word. Asshole. When you say it you even sound like one. Asshole, asshole, asshole. It sounds far better than motherfucker, shit-face, and fuck bag– they’re too long and when you say it, you sound worse than the person you’re describing. Bastard does come close, but nothing beats the familiarity and impact of asshole. It rolls smoothly off the tongue and sounds almost like poetry. Say it with me, ass-hole. There’s not a rough point in it, it’s just one quick burst of sound. Sure the others may sound like they convey more meaning and denote just hint of pure hatred, but they’re just not the same as asshole. When you try to say any one of the combo-insults, such as a motherfucker, it’s as if you
have you have to pause and remember what the second half of the insult is.
Motherfucker is too complicated. There are thousand different ways you could say it. You could emphasise ‘mother’ or ‘fucker’, or if you don’t have a clue what you’re doing you could just emphasise the ‘er’. No matter how you say it, it sounds awkward. It’s as if you’re making the it up as you go along and you sound like a bloody idiot when you do. It’s just something to say when you’re too lazy to or too stupid to master the skill of ‘asshole’. There’s only one way you can say it and it works for any situation.
Don’t trust me? Then here’s an example. Wait for a relative to die, preferably your grandmother. When you’re at the funeral home, just sit quietly and wait for family and friends to gather. Don’t worry about them coming up to you and offering their condolences. Just tell them that you’re gay and they’ll stay clear of you for the rest of the night, the funeral too if you’re lucky. Oh, yeah I almost forgot. You should bring a friend with you, a male friend, this is essential. After a while pretend to cry and forget about the free time that you’ll have in the future since you don’t have to spend your Saturdays listening to your grandmother ask you what time it is every three minutes. Go up to the casket and your friend to come with you. Go to her body and make your friend do the same. Turn your head as if you’re distracted and then turn around again and yell, “Hey, that’s my grandmother. Show some respect and get your hands off of her breasts!” Then listen to the crowd yell a symphony of insults at your friend. Asshole will be said at least twenty times.
Here’s another scenario. It requires five Jews and it must be done during a lunch break. Start hanging out with some Jews. They should be easy to spot, just throw a penny on the ground and they should come rushin’ in for it. If you live in Mississippi and there are no Jews, then just go to a Catholic Church and say the, “The Virgin is bleeding!” in the most sly and discreetly offensive way possible. If there are no Catholics, then just kick the nearest person to you in the nuts. Now back to the Jews. Make friends with them and start eating lunch with them. Wait for one of them to throw away a piece of fish or some processed meat that resembles fish, but will give you stomach cancer in half the time. Then say, “Good little Jews who eat their gefilte fish grow up to pass the Bar.” At least one of them should mutter ‘asshole’ under their breath. The point of this is that no matter the situation, ‘asshole’ will convey all of your anger at someone in a way that doesn’t make you sound like a dumbass searching for something to say at the last minute.
PART II.
Clubbing Baby Seals for a Better Tomorrow
As I may have mentioned earlier, I am an asshole in most senses of the word. It’s not that I try to be one, well actually I do, but for the purposes of this section we’re going to assume that I don’t. I say the truth, but I don’t do it gently. Oh, no, I don’t do the whole candy-coated, super-happy, joy-joy version of reality. I do the tough-shit, better-luck-next-time version of reality. I say the truth in the most direct and often base form I can think of at the moment. It’s not that I want to hurt your feelings, that’s just an added bonus, but rather I want to let you know the severity of your mistake so that you can correct it. If you unintentionally make a fool of yourself, say that you get a few facts mixed up in a presentation, I’m not going to lie to you and say you were fantastic when in reality you sounded quite retarded, but I’m not going to call you retarded and taunt you viciously. I’m going to tell you the truth without any built-in shock absorbers that’ll numb the pain. But to some people this may seem assholish to them because I’m not lying to your face and blowing rainbow-coloured smoke up your ass.
It’s those people that make me sound like a villain. I criticise them mercilessly so they’ll know that there bullshit ain’t sellin’ so well. It’s these kinds of people that make me say things that shock people and lead them to the conclusion that I’m a bigot. I’m not a bigot, in fact I’m a fucking egalitarian. I hate everyone equally. I say things to shock them so that my words will lose all meaning to them. They’ll become so callous that they wouldn’t flinch if they saw a homeless man eating a puppy. I’ll use a simple analogy. I wouldn’t go out of my way to club a baby seal, but if one just happens to come near me, then you can bet that I’d bash in it’s head.
Some say that I’m a misanthrope, and that’s true to an extent, but for the most part I just want some privacy. Everyday I encounter people that give me a wide, psychotic smile and act as if they were my friend. I don’t mind the occasional company or when the situation calls for it, but this is needless. Being an asshole is one way to ward off these people, in fact it’s the most effective way, that and joining Hezbollah, but that takes too much effort and I really don’t feel like blowing myself up for a magical sky-guardian who’s going to give me 72 virgins when what I really want is some goddamn privacy. Humanity just doesn’t amuse me very much, but on the whole I’d say it’s adequate. Hydrogen bombs and nuclear waste give life that kick of spice that makes you feel good to be alive.
Now the other kind of person that annoys me to no end is the so-called emo. These people usually wear black and act depressed when in fact they’re usually spoiled teenagers with nothing better to do than smoke and write cliché poetry about death and that girl you never talked to but that you’re nonetheless certain that she destroyed your soul. What makes identifying one of this ‘lil buggers is that there are posers. The easiest way to identify which is a true emo and which just wants to look cool is to draw a box of razor blades on the ground. The posers and the true emos should go for them, but only the latter will know how to correctly use one. Remember, children, it’s down the road, not across the street. The posers’ll grow out of it once they enter that oh-so-wonderful arena called the job market. The tride and true emos are trickier. The way to cure an emo is to make him into a preppy. I know what you’re thinking a) That makes no fucking sense and b) preppies are just as bad. To a), I respond with, yeah probably. Preppies may be just as bad, but they’re easier to shove out of the way. But how do you turn an emo into a preppy? I don’t know. I’m just telling you what to do, you have to figure out how to do it.
Dirty Kuffar and Champagne Socialists
The Asshole Manifesto
Parts I and II
PART I.
And Asshole Was His Name
I am a jerk, a cynic, a madman, but the moniker that best suits my eccentric and sardonic behaviour is asshole. Call me traditional, but nothing says all of those things more than a simple two syllable word. Asshole. When you say it you even sound like one. Asshole, asshole, asshole. It sounds far better than motherfucker, shit-face, and fuck bag– they’re too long and when you say it, you sound worse than the person you’re describing. Bastard does come close, but nothing beats the familiarity and impact of asshole. It rolls smoothly off the tongue and sounds almost like poetry. Say it with me, ass-hole. There’s not a rough point in it, it’s just one quick burst of sound. Sure the others may sound like they convey more meaning and denote just hint of pure hatred, but they’re just not the same as asshole. When you try to say any one of the combo-insults, such as a motherfucker, it’s as if you
have you have to pause and remember what the second half of the insult is.
Motherfucker is too complicated. There are thousand different ways you could say it. You could emphasise ‘mother’ or ‘fucker’, or if you don’t have a clue what you’re doing you could just emphasise the ‘er’. No matter how you say it, it sounds awkward. It’s as if you’re making the it up as you go along and you sound like a bloody idiot when you do. It’s just something to say when you’re too lazy to or too stupid to master the skill of ‘asshole’. There’s only one way you can say it and it works for any situation.
Don’t trust me? Then here’s an example. Wait for a relative to die, preferably your grandmother. When you’re at the funeral home, just sit quietly and wait for family and friends to gather. Don’t worry about them coming up to you and offering their condolences. Just tell them that you’re gay and they’ll stay clear of you for the rest of the night, the funeral too if you’re lucky. Oh, yeah I almost forgot. You should bring a friend with you, a male friend, this is essential. After a while pretend to cry and forget about the free time that you’ll have in the future since you don’t have to spend your Saturdays listening to your grandmother ask you what time it is every three minutes. Go up to the casket and your friend to come with you. Go to her body and make your friend do the same. Turn your head as if you’re distracted and then turn around again and yell, “Hey, that’s my grandmother. Show some respect and get your hands off of her breasts!” Then listen to the crowd yell a symphony of insults at your friend. Asshole will be said at least twenty times.
Here’s another scenario. It requires five Jews and it must be done during a lunch break. Start hanging out with some Jews. They should be easy to spot, just throw a penny on the ground and they should come rushin’ in for it. If you live in Mississippi and there are no Jews, then just go to a Catholic Church and say the, “The Virgin is bleeding!” in the most sly and discreetly offensive way possible. If there are no Catholics, then just kick the nearest person to you in the nuts. Now back to the Jews. Make friends with them and start eating lunch with them. Wait for one of them to throw away a piece of fish or some processed meat that resembles fish, but will give you stomach cancer in half the time. Then say, “Good little Jews who eat their gefilte fish grow up to pass the Bar.” At least one of them should mutter ‘asshole’ under their breath. The point of this is that no matter the situation, ‘asshole’ will convey all of your anger at someone in a way that doesn’t make you sound like a dumbass searching for something to say at the last minute.
PART II.
Clubbing Baby Seals for a Better Tomorrow
As I may have mentioned earlier, I am an asshole in most senses of the word. It’s not that I try to be one, well actually I do, but for the purposes of this section we’re going to assume that I don’t. I say the truth, but I don’t do it gently. Oh, no, I don’t do the whole candy-coated, super-happy, joy-joy version of reality. I do the tough-shit, better-luck-next-time version of reality. I say the truth in the most direct and often base form I can think of at the moment. It’s not that I want to hurt your feelings, that’s just an added bonus, but rather I want to let you know the severity of your mistake so that you can correct it. If you unintentionally make a fool of yourself, say that you get a few facts mixed up in a presentation, I’m not going to lie to you and say you were fantastic when in reality you sounded quite retarded, but I’m not going to call you retarded and taunt you viciously. I’m going to tell you the truth without any built-in shock absorbers that’ll numb the pain. But to some people this may seem assholish to them because I’m not lying to your face and blowing rainbow-coloured smoke up your ass.
It’s those people that make me sound like a villain. I criticise them mercilessly so they’ll know that there bullshit ain’t sellin’ so well. It’s these kinds of people that make me say things that shock people and lead them to the conclusion that I’m a bigot. I’m not a bigot, in fact I’m a fucking egalitarian. I hate everyone equally. I say things to shock them so that my words will lose all meaning to them. They’ll become so callous that they wouldn’t flinch if they saw a homeless man eating a puppy. I’ll use a simple analogy. I wouldn’t go out of my way to club a baby seal, but if one just happens to come near me, then you can bet that I’d bash in it’s head.
Some say that I’m a misanthrope, and that’s true to an extent, but for the most part I just want some privacy. Everyday I encounter people that give me a wide, psychotic smile and act as if they were my friend. I don’t mind the occasional company or when the situation calls for it, but this is needless. Being an asshole is one way to ward off these people, in fact it’s the most effective way, that and joining Hezbollah, but that takes too much effort and I really don’t feel like blowing myself up for a magical sky-guardian who’s going to give me 72 virgins when what I really want is some goddamn privacy. Humanity just doesn’t amuse me very much, but on the whole I’d say it’s adequate. Hydrogen bombs and nuclear waste give life that kick of spice that makes you feel good to be alive.
Now the other kind of person that annoys me to no end is the so-called emo. These people usually wear black and act depressed when in fact they’re usually spoiled teenagers with nothing better to do than smoke and write cliché poetry about death and that girl you never talked to but that you’re nonetheless certain that she destroyed your soul. What makes identifying one of this ‘lil buggers is that there are posers. The easiest way to identify which is a true emo and which just wants to look cool is to draw a box of razor blades on the ground. The posers and the true emos should go for them, but only the latter will know how to correctly use one. Remember, children, it’s down the road, not across the street. The posers’ll grow out of it once they enter that oh-so-wonderful arena called the job market. The tride and true emos are trickier. The way to cure an emo is to make him into a preppy. I know what you’re thinking a) That makes no fucking sense and b) preppies are just as bad. To a), I respond with, yeah probably. Preppies may be just as bad, but they’re easier to shove out of the way. But how do you turn an emo into a preppy? I don’t know. I’m just telling you what to do, you have to figure out how to do it.