I believe it is safe to say I have at last reached a new plateau in my existence; a place I’ve always longed for. I think I can officially apply to myself the much desired appellate of “Pariah.” (Hooray!!!)
But let me revert back to my childhood for a few moments, to explain how I first came to desire this goal.
I’m a big fan of something called “Star Wars.” I grew up with it. Indeed the first Star Wars movie ever created may well have been the first one I ever saw in a movie theater. (Unless it was Jaws. To be honest my memories of that phase of my life are somewhat uncertain, buuuuut………..moving on)
During my youth there was a comic book series based on this somewhat popular movie franchise. It was published by Marvel Comics and was entitled simply: “Star Wars.” It is, at this time, no longer considered “canon” but the series still holds a very special place in my life. These were among the first comic books that I owned in my lifetime, and were purchased for me, without exception, by my mother during trips to the local neighborhood grocery store.
One I remember particularly well was entitled “Pariah.”
The plot was as follows: Luke and some other rebels go on a mission to fight the Empire while clandestinely piloting stolen tie fighters. They emerge from the battle victorious, but upon returning to the rebel base Luke finds himself in most cases ignored (as if he doesn’t exist) and in others actively scorned by his fellow rebel fighters. He does not understand why until he discovers that he himself (under the guidance of The Force) destroyed one of his own, a female rebel named Shia who he had in fact developed something called “Romantic Feelings” for. (Eeeeewwww) It is discovered later she herself was in fact an imperial spy. (Go figure.)
The story itself was pedantic and plodding, like much comic book literature of its time, designed to make money off the brainless masses such as myself, but there was something else going on in the plot of this book I found myself drawn to. Wouldn’t it be amazing if I could go through my life completely undetected by other people: as if I didn’t exist at all. It sounded like heaven on earth to me, and I began at that very moment, to strive for such an existence. I believe I have at last achieved that lifelong goal.
It is, at the time of this writing, “Saturday Night.” It’s only a little after 6 pm. Within an hour I shall be in bed, at a time when most people are probably just getting ready to do something called “Going out for the evening.” (Boy that sure sounds like fun)
(I’d like to point out that the human female on the right hand side of the photo literally appears to have puke filling her mouth at the same time as she is attempting to consume alcoholic beverages through her forehead. Wow. What a good time.)
I am happy to report I do not have the burden of such stupidity. At the exact same time that most of these drunkards (and most likely Trump Supporters) are passing out in puddles of their own vomit or waking up to ass-rapings in their jail cells I will be getting out of my bed, stone cold sober and ready for my day, in a dark, quiet and mostly empty world. I will wander about town, playing a game on my cell phone and encountering only bums and town drunkards, the likes of which can easily (and most amusingly) be dismissed with a cheerful “Merry Christmas! Good Morning!” as I continue listening to my headphones and playing my GPS based game. (And no it is not Pokemon Go!. That game is for losers. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that.))
This new phase of my existence has been most enjoyable, and I hope it continues for the rest of the my sentence on this piece of shit excuse for a planet.
So let’s get down to the Pros and Cons of being a Pariah. (That was, after all, the title of this Blog.)
1.) I don’t have to attend “Music Concerts.” (I’ve managed to avoid all but one this entire year, and I literally took a nap through most of that one, so I think I deserve a pass on it.) The truth is I despise music and all those who perform it. I wouldn’t be disappointed at all if they were all suddenly exterminated at the earliest possible convenience. “Music” serves no purpose other than to annoy me.
2.) I never have to “Entertain Visitors.” (Or as I like to call it: “Waiting For People To Leave.”)
3.) Food. All the food I can eat. Nothing else matters. I can afford to eat anything I want, and it doesn’t matter how grotesquely obese I become, because nobody else’s opinion has any meaning to me. Homeless starving people can all go to hell. (That is, of course, if I believed in such nonsense as “Hell.” But, you know what: SCIENCE! bitches,)
All right it’s bed time. I hope everyone reading this dies a horribly violent death in the next ten seconds or so. (Just kidding. 😉 ) .