On Being Offended Easily

Hey folks, somebody may have been offended at some of the language I use in these blogs, on stage, and in line at Swapper John's. First off, remember that I label myself in this writing as a Comedian-Writer-Raconteur. I don't delve into Hallmark'ian, milquetoast Life-philosophies to pander to people looking for inspiration from Oprah and/or Dr. Phil. Sometimes my language, in text and tongue, can slide toward the "inappropriate for the funeral" end of the spectrum.

So here's the deal.

Some people are easily offended. They are looking to be offended. They are finding things in the world to be offended by, and if they aren't offended, they'll surely let everybody else know why THEY should be offended by it. By proxy, they'll also attempt to inculcate the morality of being offended, in case you think you're too good, too mature, or not the target of the arrow of offense.

If somebody stands in the middle of the street and screams for the beheadings of all DIPSHITS, FARTLOADS, and F*CKTARDS... well I'm going to think she's not talking to me because I don't see myself as any of those. At least not on a regular basis. In fact, I'd likely ask her if she needs help or to sit for a second and get some electrolytes balanced out. But I am surely NOT going to rush to this blog and tell people that the aforementioned unsavories should all rise in revolt against this woman who is clearly hoping we pass a national health care bill instead of sanctioning the incredibly heavy-handed Insurance Cabals.

So when it comes to being offended, rarely is it my intent to offend anybody. And if any of my defense mechanisms were to spring up and I say or do something that offends a person who I discern as a threat, then they SHOULD be offended. I draw a rather tight perimeter as to what I will offended or threatened by, so if I feel threatened, yes, you have gotten closer to me than most folks would have allowed without a low-inside leg kick.

So if ever I express myself and you deem it offensive, please understand that Offense was not my intent. I was merely expressing myself on a topic I felt strongly about. Because if I don't stand up for the F*CKTARDS and those who aren't easily offended, well... they'll have to get their own blogs.

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Take Me Home

My Blog About My Dad

Be Your Own, Anonymous Person

Sure as I am that many articles, blogs, and pr0n-spam links have been made about this, I would like to weigh-in on an issue that affects us all when it comes to the use of the Internet.

Our Constitution (for Americans only, I hope) has a number of Amendments, which is to say, the first go-round didn't quite get it all. One of those Amendments is the First one. Luckily, it's the most important one in a society full of people who our Forefathers thought would be smarter than they are. It guarantees our Freedom to Speak, Print, and Worship. Not sure how those all tie in to each other, but ink was pricey then and if you can't tell somebody to read the Bible, what's the use of stealing one from a Hotel?

So we've got this far now into the Web2.0 thing, wherein WE are the contributors of content. This blog, that goat-fighting video, keyboard cat, CHICKEN TETRAZZIIIINI, and your video that nobody was supposed to see.

Oh... who's a pretty little Thai Schoolgirl NOW?

And in the Cyberscape we can often become anybody we want to, and live anonymously, vicariously, and usually, slovenly. And we contribute what it is we (think?) the world wants to hear from us. Or, more narcisistically, what WE want the world to know about us. These plops fall into 5 categories:

1) Boring
2) Pointless
3) Profane
4) A link to some sort of hole
5) Something enraging the easily-enraged shut-in

So yeah, the 'nets full of nobodies. If I were really poppin', I wouldn't be cheek-liftin' blogs out this monster for nobody. Love for my readers, always always. But hey, if I had my druthers, I'd be inaccessible 40 weeks a year. Until then, send me a drink in MafiaWars. Nobody talks anymore...

To prove it, here's a cam pic of me writing this blog.

Take Me Home

My Blog About My Dad