BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Back in 1993 there was this movie starring Michael Douglas. Some of you may remember it. The title was, Falling Down. Now, when you read the plot synosis it repeatedly refers to Douglas’ character as ‘disturbed.’ I will agree with that, wholeheartedly. The problem is, while the synopsis outlines key events in the movie that trigger the character, they paint him as disturbed (i.e. mentally unstable at the outset) and triggered as opposed to being a normal guy who is beaten into disturbia by society and events and then triggered.

When you watch the movie itself they make this latter point clear, but the synopsis really doesn’t. The main reason I even bother to go into that fact is that some of you may not have actually seen the movie and would base your view on that synopsis. Just want to make sure that is cleared up… So, now that it is, on with the rest of this ranting blog thing…

‘I just want to go home,’ is something Douglas’ character said quite a bit throughout the movie. It is also something I say very often… You see, D-FENS (the character – no, don’t get the wrong idea, it’s not some stupid name… You see, for most of the movie you are only able to apply an identity to him based on his vanity license plate D-FENS – he was a defense industry worker if that helps explain it… You don’t find out his real name until later)…

Anyway, my point here is that I can readily identify with D-FENS. I have sympathy for him. Sometimes I feel like I AM him…

In case you haven’t seen the movie and don’t intend to follow the above link to the synopsis, basically you have a guy who is laid off, divorced, beaten down, and just plain sick and tired of the BS out there in the world. By BS I mean getting mugged by a gang, a store owner who won’t make change for a buck so you can use his pay phone then gouges you on a candy bar so that you still don’t end up with any change (yeah, I know, a bit outdated what with cell phones and all, but you get the idea), traffic jams caused for no reason other than the fact the people with entitlement issues are being assholes… Well, finally this guy cracks and fights back. Granted, it gets pretty bad in the end, (what he does, not the movie itself – I think the movie was great) but, in any case, I’ll let you watch the movie to find out those details…

So… Here I am, on the raggedy edge… No, wait, that was from Serenity… Wrong movie… good movie.. no, actually it was a GREAT movie… but not the one I am referencing right now…

So, here I am… Pretty much feeling like D-FENS… No, I haven’t been laid off (actually, I have a contract to fulfill with my publisher, so that means I still have a job – even though book sales are way down in the current economy, but that’s a different blog)… And, I’m not divorced nor am I in any danger of being so (unless, of course, EK has plans I don’t know about…) But, I have been dealing with the whole entitled asshole thing…

You see, I just got back from grocery shopping for the Yule bash this weekend. I wasn’t even able to finish the shopping because I simply couldn’t take any more… In fact, I was on the verge of re-enacting a few scenes from Falling Down right there in the Shop ‘n Save. Fortunately, since I DO still have a wife and a kid and a job, I have too much to lose, therefore I had the good sense to just head for the checkout stand, pay for my cartload and leave…

But, to give you an idea… As I was politely making my way down the aisles, moving to the side and allowing people to pass whenever I needed to stop, or waiting for folks to finish before trying to get past them myself, I was faced with assholes. People who would ram my cart as I politely waited for the old lady in front of me to finish putting something into her own cart…

They would ram MY cart, push past me, then ram the old lady’s cart in order to rush past her. Then guess what? They’d stop 15 feet up the aisle – in the MIDDLE of the friggin’ aisle – and would they get something off the shelf and move on? No… They’d stand there blocking the aisle while carrying on a LOUD conversation with someone via cell phone. ‘Giiiiirrlrllllllll, I be tellin’ you he be yadda yadda…etc… etc…yadda…’

However, I DID figure something out during all of this – These assholes don’t use the words ‘excuse me’ because they don’t know what they mean. I tested the theory several times by politely saying excuse me while trying to get around them, and was merely stared at like I had grown an extra head. Obviously, ‘excuse me’ is spoken in a foreign language where they are concerned.

If that was all that occurred it wouldn’t be so bad – even though said incident happened MULTIPLE times within the span of 1 hour with different assholes involved each time – but, it doesn’t stop there. I had an idiot bean me with an eight pound ham because he tossed it into the bin without bothering to look first. When I looked up  he stared at me like it was my fault for being there.

There were several other incidents, but I don’t want to bore you with a neverending rant… Suffice it to say, I was pushed to the point where I was imagining myself in D-FENS’s position, and thinking I would do pretty much the same thing he did (see movie – or at the very least the synopsis – for details)

Of course, to add insult to injury, even though I decided to check out and ‘go home’ rather than lay waste to everyone in my path, someone still found it necessary to push in front of me while I was standing in the checkout line.

While I refrained from picking up the nearest blunt object and beating her to death with it, I let her know in no uncertain terms what she’d done… Then, just to be an asshole myself, I told her with as much sarcasm as I could muster (and them some), “But you just go ahead…don’t mind me.”

I guess I had a pretty wild D-FENS kind of look in my eye, because she said, ‘ummm, oh, ummm, no…’ then pulled out of the line and went to the checkout stand at the far end of the store which happened to be much closer to the front door.

It could have been the look in my eyes… It could have been the tone of my voice… It might even have been my posture… But, somewhere in the back of my head I have to wonder if it was all because she had once seen the movie in question combined with the fact that I simply stood there muttering, ‘I just want to go home…’

Yeah, something tells me that might have been it… And, I think she wanted to put some distance between us and be within reach of an exit in the event that I might Fall Down…

More to come…

Murv

Okay, I admit it. I read Reuters Oddly Enough news… Actually, it’s not so much news as it is a mini blog that takes somewhat odd news stories and showcases them… Or, relatively normal stories and puts an odd spin on them… Whatever seems to work at the time, I suppose. Especially if it’s a slow news day. (You know, things just aren’t the same as they were back when I was studying Journalism, but that’s another story entirely…)

So, anyway, back to the lecherous, filthy elf… One of the “Oddly Enough” features on 12/10 was a list of links to odd holiday tales. As with many blogs, comments are allowed and beneath this one there were three, two of which lamented the fact that when they were kids, Christmas was about the Church and not Santa…

Well, I could wax prophetic all about how they are a bit misguided since Christmas is actually a hijacked holiday known as Yule, and that it really occurs on the Winter Solstice. That, and the fact that there is overwhelming evidence that Jesus – divinely conceived child of “God” or not, doesn’t really matter – wasn’t born on December 25th, and in fact wasn’t born anywhere near December at all. But, once again, all that goes to a different blog, which quite honestly has been beaten to death and there is no real reason for me to go into it other than the illustration above.

Now, I will concede that there was a valid point to the comments – that being the whole Santa thing. I mean, when you look at it historically – and worldwide for that matter – this whole Santa Claus legend/myth has several different avenues, turns, detours, and bizarre stories it takes – up to and including sidekicks such as “Black Pete” (I’ll have to tell you the story about my own personal confusion on the Black Pete mythos sometime… Let’s just say I had it correct all except for the name… Seems that in my twisted brain he became Black Bob, but again, another story for another time…)

Anywho, we are all pretty much aware – and if you aren’t you are about to get educated – that the present “American” incarnation of Santa Claus is the product of marketing by a soft drink company. Yeah, no kidding. Look it up.

But, as usual, I have digressed a bit.

You see, the thing that really got me about the comments on the Oddly Enough blog was that one of them referred to Santa Claus as, and I quote, “…an all-knowing, omnipresent, pedophiliac old man…”

Well, all knowing, yeah, I guess I can give you that. Omnipresent, well yeah, that too. I mean, according to the myth the fat bastard DOES manage to get around the entire globe in a single 24 hour period, all while making countless stops.

However… pedophiliac? Never mind the fact that we have a noun-adjective-noun combination there that just drives me insane (i.e. grammatically it should be pedophilic old man)… But, like I said, let’s ignore the creation of a new part of speech here, that being the nounective… or adjenoun… and just focus on what this person is attempting to say.

This “commentator” just called Santa Claus a child molester…

Now, I am not sure about the rest of you but there was no time in my life, as a child or as an adult, when I ever heard of Santa Claus molesting a kid. I never heard a single story about the Jolly Old Elf having any such interest in children. Hell, I never heard a single story about Santa even having an interest in his wife, much less kids.

Sure, now that I am an adult I have seen the “adult” cartoons that run about the net, featuring Santa mooning you, or getting laid, or what have you… But, not with kids, and I definitely didn’t see this stuff until I was an adult.

Sooooo… If the commentator above grew up believing that Santa Claus is a Pedophile, then you have to wonder what this person’s parents were telling her…Or, dare I say it? What happened to her as a child… It boggles the mind. Well, it boggles MY mind…

You know… Having read that particular comment actually made me a bit angry… You see, my Grandfather, Elvis Babb, used to play Santa at the local store back in the small town of Fulton, KY where I am from, and he was a hell of a guy. A hell of a Santa too.

For someone to say Santa is a Pedophile sullies the reputation of Santa’s everywhere, including the memory of my Grandfather… Shame on her.

More to come…

Murv

As always, while this blog is certainly an opinion piece, it is written tongue in cheek and intended to entertain.