Hello, My Name Is Asshole (Fat American For Hire)
I was born to be an asshole. I’ve been walking around this planet for twenty six years and this statement could be my ultimate truth. Stamp it on my tombstone. I never did well in school, unless the lesson involved the arts or English. You know, what mattered to me. I lived in the principal’s office. Scraped knees and bloody knuckles were a constant. I’m surprised my parents aren’t in some institution for either killing me or being driven bat-shit crazy by my adolescent exploits.
I stole their credit cards and went on a shopping spree once. I would have killed me.
In my middle-teen years, I looked at my peers, studied their language, their clothing, listened to the music that they were listening to, and rejected their values entirely. This made me the object of ridicule throughout my formative years, and what I’ve learned from that experience is this: What made me a target when I was younger makes me popular with just about everyone now.
My obsession with independent musicians, underground artists, feminism, and varying degrees of socially acceptable self-mutilation didn’t win me the pretty princess prize growing up in uber-jappy (or guido fist-pumpy) Manalapan NJ; But it makes for great conversation and endless debate at any party these days. I have no manners when it comes to how I feel about certain subjects. Some people say I cross the line. Fuck the line. I’m not only going to cross it, I’m going to do the Mexican hat dance all over that bitch.And I do it well, for a filthy little heeb.
I tell dead baby jokes in mixed company. I desecrate not just the religion I was indoctrinated into, but all of systems of belief. Abortion, politics, and the two illegal wars we’re fighting are dinner-table fare for an asshole like me.
I have no problem telling the homeless crack-heads of Asbury Park to fuck off when they ask me for money to support their disgusting habit. I have no qualms getting in the faces of the god-fearing church-going reptiles that feel it’s their moral obligation to tell me I’m going to hell for my loving and healthy relationship. If someone takes issue with me, I’m going to take it right back…and I’m usually louder about it.
Please have no misgivings about me – just because I was born to be an asshole doesn’t mean that I’m completely devoid of compassion, kindness, humanity or a strong moral compass. I know the difference between right and wrong – I’m just selective as to when I really care about the two. The more a situation or decision suits my best interest, the more I care. It’s not that I enjoy being cold or callous, it’s that I embrace my own human nature. I believe that at the core of every single one of us, lives the narcissistic, self-serving little weasel that I’ve told you about in these few paragraphs.
If you look at the state of the world, you’ll find it very difficult to argue with me on that point. More than half of the world doesn’t have access to fresh water, but every year since the fifties, diabetes and heart disease due to obesity in the United States has risen. Simple self-serving greed is at the core of human nature. So kick back, put your earbuds in, and crank up the volume on your iPhone. That way, you don’t have to listen to the annoying squeak of third-world countries collapsing around us. Have a cheeseburger. In fact, have two. Shit, they’re only a dollar. Let’s all relax and watch American Idol in slack-jawed ecstacy while our Gross National Product spirals irreversibly down the multi-trillion dollar rabbit hole. We don’t make things anymore. America used to build things. Now all we produce is reality TV. Remember when Detroit wasn’t a punchline? Remember when Camden NJ didn’t have to beg, borrow, and steal just to maintain the little bit of infrastructure they have left?
Ok, Ok, I’m going on a rant here and I’ll stop for now – this is turning into another blog entirely. I guess my point is, if you don’t think you’re an asshole, then you’re a bigger asshole than me. Admit it, embrace it, use your bastard powers for good. Whew.
Tornado Allie writes The Attention Whore Diaries at Salon.com. The original post is here.