Old School Bullets
I'd probably find it easier to believe you when you tell me "it's not about his race, I just don't like his policies" in the parlor if I didn't hear you telling jokes about big lips and Velcro in the kitchen. I think it comes down to this... marriages fail because of selfishness. One way or another. It will always come down to somebody being selfish. Conversely I think they succeed on the foundation of unselfishness. Distill every issue down and see if I'm wrong. I can't talk about women but for guys it's like this; It stopped being about you the day you got married. Any dick can make a baby, it takes a man to be a father. Get over yourself. If your wife and kids aren't happy, you're doin' it wrong. Thus endeth the lesson. There seems to be a vast ocean of people who want to get in the big leagues without doing any of the slog work in the minors. Unless you are a savant, talent is generally raw and doesn't become anything until it is honed. That's why they call it a craft I think. You worked at it. Most people who become an overnight success do so after years of obscurity and grunt work. It used to be called "dues" in the old days. Turns out you still have to pay them. You can do it before, or after, you hit the big leagues. But you have to pay them one way or another. I think people who are all about supremacy of any flavor or reason never really saw a picture of just how minuscule the Earth is in comparison to the rest of the universe. It's not that you have the sound system in your car at full roar with everything but the bass line turned off as if to announce your presence in such a way that we're supposed to cower at your power and natural intimidation, vibrating your vehicle and everything else in a thirty foot radius to the beat of your aura. I get that. That's not what bugs me. What gets me is that this is just so 90's. Dude.... I never really started to write fiction well until I stopped describing what characters looked like, used nothing other than 'said' to describe a character's verbiage, and finally got the idea that something has to be happening all the time. After almost 40 years, I've been writing fiction at a top level for two whole days now. If you are a young entrepreneur (under 35) who has had a little success in your life you automatically have a long road to go to get me to believe you are not a complete asshole. I hate to lump a group of people together like that because that's how racists get started, but please see the fourth bullet above and kindly stick it up your ass you sarcastic entitled son of a whore. Have a nice day.
6 Comments:
There is a jackass who drives down our street now and then, only his bass is WAY up, and his car is all jacked up, and holy crap - I'd love to run out and pelt his car with eggs.
I believe you in the selfishness thing - totally. My husband's family is seriously the biggest group of selfish people I have ever seen. He is the least so, but damn it gets tiring trying to get him to see what to me is blatant BS and to him, normal.
I'm sure he's got his own views of me, though. :)
Oh and today we've been married 10 years!
This made me LOL -
"After almost 40 years, I've been writing fiction at a top level for two whole days now."
I love your second to last bullet. I think you and I are both complete skeptics. I likey.
Have a great day, RW!
* I don't get the Velcro comment.
* The reason that many relationships fail may be able to be boiled down to selfishness, but I think it's too general to say all relationships.
* Everybody would love to have something come easily. Everybody.
* Speck.
* Says the man who drives a Mini.
* Some of the best authors I know only use "said" to describe what a character says. Look at Robert B. Parker, for example.
* What does an entrepreneur have to do with supremacy? And do you think that someone who works hard in their twenties and thirties isn't paying their dues?
* I disagree with this bullet completely.
I think if an entrepreneur who works hard in their twenties and thirties is a prick to people he's an asshole. I've seen enough to know I have to look for the exceptions. You know any?
* That's like people who say, "I'm not prejudiced, but..."
* Bingo. 100 percent.
* And paying dues is no guarantee that there's a reward waiting for you. Not all who work their asses off honing their craft "make it". Sometimes you just do it because you love it.
* Another bingo.
* Oh god, do I know this. I live in a small university town, in a neighborhood known for its student population. Help.
* It depends on the genre and the author. For me, I'll look to authors of the classics--they've passed the litmus test of time. I hate blanket "rules" when it come to art, especially by so-called experts who create an entire blog just to tell people how to write when I don't recognize their name. Henry Miller? Sure. Herman Hesse, yeah. I'd listen to those guys, but some nobody who wants people to think he's some kind of expert? No. Telling a writer not to use adverbs and adjectives is like telling a painter not to use Prussian blue or Cadmium yellow, or a composer not to write in the key of C# minor. Sometimes "he whispered" says more than "he said". And reading "said" over and over again gets boring not only to the mind, but to the eye. We have a rich language and I intend to use it. Fuck the modernist Gestapo's rules. I'll follow my own drum.
* I have to side with Avitable on this one.
Sorry folks. Whenever an entrepreneur under the age of 35 shows up in my office, job site, meeting, or whatever, I'm going to start with the assumption that at some point in the proceedings he's going to treat somebody like they're a jerk. Is it just the home-builder, contractor, construction world? Well maybe. And there have always been exceptions. But my experience has taught me to mistrust, be wary, and be ready for the full bore asshole at the drop of a hat. I've known very few of this species to be gracious about anything, grateful to anyone, or considerate to others. I've known tons - literally - of them to be snobbish, entitled, condescending little fucks. And yeah - just about to a man.
"When some wild-eyed, eight-foot-tall maniac grabs your neck, taps the back of your favorite head up against the barroom wall, and he looks you crooked in the eye and he asks you if ya paid your dues, you just stare that big sucker right back in the eye, and you remember what ol' Jack Burton always says at a time like that: 'Have ya paid your dues, Jack?' 'Yessir, the check is in the mail.' "
- The Wisdom of Jack Burton
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
Links to this post:
Create a Link
<< Home