Put simply, I’ve been a little down lately. Life is disconcerting when the authority figures and the so-called “adults” in your life conduct themselves like petty, petulant children.

Posted by KZ on 01/27/09

Frankly, I don’t care how you’re doing. I know the feeling is mutual. Why does every conversation have to begin with the inane ritual of each party asking the other how they are doing? It’s a question that we ask to establish some phony sense of rapport, but we all know it’s meaningless and basically unnecessary. It exists on the same plane of usefulness as saying “God bless you” to somebody after a sneeze. We don’t acknowledge any other unpleasant bodily functions with a genuflection and a shout-out to God, so what gives? But I digress.

After somebody has asked you how you are doing, most social contexts demand that, in the name of common courtesy, you keep your replies bright and pleasant. “I’m doing well, thank you. How are you this glorious day?” And the circle of disingenuous empathy fulfills itself and winds around for another spin.

“Oh, I’m doing great, actually. My wife and I just got back from the park.” At this point in the conversation, you begin thinking to yourself: Dear God, I didn’t actually mean it when I showed an interest in your day. “The park is beautiful this time of year, believe it or not. It’s a little cold, but the kids loved it. So did the dog.” Fuck your dog.

And that’s the unfortunate truth. The vast majority of us couldn’t be arsed about each others’ day. To be sure, there’s still room in our calloused, preoccupied hearts for human empathy, but we reserve that valuable human capital for important things like mass shootouts, natural disasters, and global famine.

So go ahead. I dare you to ask me how I’m doing today. I’ll probably reply with something polite and chipper, but I’ll secretly be memorizing your facial features for the flammable effigy I’m making of you back at home. That’s how I roll.

Posted by KZ on 01/09/09

Who do you suppose it was in history who first looked at a horse and thought to himself: “Hey, that animal’s strength, size, and general demeanor would make that creature the perfect beast of burden.”?

“Just look at it!” this opportunist must have said to himself. “That animal’s back is perfectly contoured to form a mobile, steerable seat for my ass, and the animal itself is just tall enough so that my feet don’t touch the ground.”

Poor horses. They got the evolutionary shaft.

Posted by KZ on 01/06/09