Posted on September 17, 2009
On My Honor, I Will Do My Best To Be Prepared (To Argue)
Let’s be honest. Most of you reading this site don’t know me personally, and we will never meet. Many of you come from states I’ve never been to and that I don’t plan on visiting, while others come from far off places in foreign lands with unpronounceable names that I’ve never even heard of and I worry you might not be gathering a proper representation of who I am by some of the things I write. To that end, I thought I’d spend a little time today describing myself with a bit more detail than I have in the past.
I was ripped from the Elysian peace of the womb in 1975 and tossed in amongst the detritus of humanity called Texas, where the collected remnants of a million years of evolutionary offal has drifted into southern tide pools and congealed into a quivering mass of redneck, hillbilly, and yokel DNA. I learned quickly that I tended to walk in a different direction than other people, but for whatever reason, I took quite a long while to develop into the angry, frustrated crusader I’ve grown to become.
Back in my youth, I was a very shy, mostly silent child. I was acutely sensitive to the feelings of people around me, and so was as close to empathic as one can get without being at least half Betazoid. I never rocked the boat, rarely spoke up either for or against anything, and instead I just kept my head down and did what people told me. I’m not sure when it was that all of that changed, although I suspect it has something to do with my Boy Scout troop leader, during the fifteen or so minutes that I was actually in the Boy Scouts.
One of the first things a new scout does is memorize and recite the Boy Scout Law. Contained within its hallowed verse are a series of words describing all that a boy scout is expected to be. For the purposes of this story, however, we’ll only concern ourselves with two of them: Trustworthy and Reverent (toward God).
After I finished reciting the Law to my troop leader, he asked me to identify the most important word it contained. I thought about the list for a moment, running esoteric calculations through my young, fifth-grader mind. Eventually, I settled on the one word I thought to be most important, then informed the troop leader of my conclusion.
“Trustworthiness,” I said with confidence.
He leaned back in his chair as a smile crossed his face, the sort of smug variety of sneer that seems to come standard on the more self-righteous models of humankind. “Are you sure?” he asked.
A short pause. “Yes,” I said. I leaned back in my chair.
“Are you really, really sure?” he said, making sure to highlight the redundancy of his adverbs by sliding his voice around the question mark.
“Um, yeah.”
“Maybe you should look again…”
I looked again, then I looked at the troop leader.
“Well?” he asked.
“Trustworthy,” I repeated. “It’s the very first one.”
“So that makes it the most important?”
“Well,” I said, “it’s not the most important because it’s first, but it’s probably first because it’s the most important.”
The troop leader seemed to consider this for a second, then shook his head and dismissed it with a wave. He clucked a few notes of condescension and asked, “What about Reverent?”
I shrugged. “What about it?”
“Well, if you’re reverent toward God, wouldn’t you be all of the other things, too?”
I thought about this for a minute, then simply replied, “Nope.”
The troop leader was puzzled by this. I could tell by the way his eyebrows started twitching, and because he said, “Huh?”
I leaned forward, and let my very first smug sneer cross my lips. “Well,” I began, going down the list. “You can say you’re loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean and reverent – but if you’re not trustworthy, then you could just be lying.”
Upon hearing this, the troop leader just sat there in silence, staring at the paper containing the holy writ of Scout Law. He studied it, looked up and started to speak. When nothing came out, he closed his mouth, glared at me, then stood up and walked away.
I never did get that merit badge, and I only went to two or three meetings after my ill-fated debate on the merits of theology versus veracity. It’s not as if anyone asked me to leave, per se, but it became increasingly clear that I wasn’t made of the sort of material that this particular Boy Scout troop was looking for. I have no issues with the scouts, mind you. We just weren’t a good fit, and I let them know it with my refusal to yield. They, in turn, let me know it by not including me in their reindeer games of bug collecting and fire starting. We parted on good terms, but haven’t seen each other in years. I do not miss them.
And, with that, the seeds were planted for what would eventually blossom into the eternal struggles I find myself facing every day. It is exhausting business, and I am exhausted from it. I sincerely wish that I weren’t always taking issue with everything, or fighting to defend some principle or ethic. I’d love to live a life of peace and tranquility, although much of me revolts against the bloated complacency that sort of happy existence ultimately leads to. I don’t know why I always fight. I don’t know why I go to bed angry every night and and wake up angrier the next morning (thanks, Unca Harlan), but I do. And, as much as I’d like to be a shiny, happy person who is capable of reveling in the thrilling delight of watching Jon and Kate Plus Eight’s marriage implode on reality teevee, I can’t seem to shake this constant nagging voice in the back of my head that chews at my brain, an omnipresent reminder that almost every single thing in this world pisses me off.
Apart from despising dishonesty and condemning the ignorant, the reserves of my anger are often replenished by pretty mundane crap. Things like the public’s misconceptions of reality, or the nature of perceived fear vs. actual threat tend to get under my skin. I also hate manipulators and schemers, the sort of person who delights in the exploitation of others. I can’t abide useless people, either. Find something you’re good at that people need, and go out into the world and do it. I can’t stomach defeatists, who shirk responsibility by accepting the world as unchangeable. I despise self-help books and the hacks who shill them out to an unsuspecting and gullible readership. But, most of all – what I hate more than anything else in this world – is how absurdly, deeply, hopelessly stupid so many people seem to be.
The answers to life’s problems are usually very simple, yet people seem too dirt stupid to realize it. However, it probably goes deeper than that. Simple solutions usually involve hard work, so they like to overcomplicate things until they can somehow manage to arrange the Jenga tower of their faults in such a way as to make their own miserable lives somehow tolerable, and their own regrettable behavior somehow justifiable. In truth, whatever problems you may have in your life are usually very easy to solve, if only you have the will to see things through.
Consider the following:
- If you are ignorant but want to be educated, then start reading books.
- If you are doing something but want to stop doing it, then stop doing it.
- If you don’t want people to know you do bad things, then don’t do bad things.
- If you want people to think you do good things, then start doing good things.
The answers are almost always very simple. If you’re skinny and weak but want to be big and strong, then start exercising. If you smoke but want to quit, then stop smoking. If you’re tired of something in your life, then decide to change it! The difficulty lies in possessing the strength of character required to actually achieve the change. Change is hard, it’s slow, and it’s difficult – but it all starts with a simple decision. We can decide to change anything about our lives in an instant, and the change will come if we stick to that resolve. Change is sometimes daunting, sometimes scary, and is always, always difficult. Still, you can either sit on your hands and cry about your fate while doing nothing to change, or you can make the simple decision to do something about it.
Just don’t ever join the Boy Scouts, if you can help it.
Want some books? 'Course ya do!
NOTE: I know times are hard and yeah, I need to make a living too, but if you want to read any of my books but can't afford to buy them right now, hit me up.
I'll take care of it.
Humor | Nonfiction
Available now from the following retailers
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Have you ever lived through an experience that was so humiliating that you wanted to die, but when you tell it to all your friends, they can't stop laughing?
Have you ever made a decision that seemed like a good idea at the time, but you're still living with the hilarious consequences years later?
If so, then grab a snack, get comfortable, and prepare to have all of your own poor life choices seem just a little bit more bearable.
You're welcome.
Short Stories
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The nine stories of rage and sadness collected here range from the most intimate of human experiences to the wildest realms of magic and fantasy. The first story is a violent gut-punch to the soul, and the rest of them just hit harder from there.
Those who tough it out will find a book filled with as much hope as despair, a constant contradiction pulling you from one extreme to another.
Life might knock us down, over and over, and will the beat the ever-loving snot out of us from the time we're old enough to give it attitude until the day we finally let it win and stop getting up.
Always get back up.
Gaming | Nonfiction
Available now from the following retailers
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This isn't just a book. It's a portal to other worlds where there be magic and dragons and hilarious pirates. Okay, not really. But this book is about those portals, except they're called video games.
The Life Bytes series of books take a deep dive into one man's personal journey through childhood into kinda/sorta being a responsible, competent adult as told through the magical lens of whatever video games he was playing at the time.
Part One starts way back in 1975 and meanders down various digital pathways until, oh, around about 1993 or so.
If you're feeling nostalgic for the early days of gaming or if you just want to understand why the gamer in your life loves this hobby so much, take a seat in your favorite comfy chair and crack this bad boy open.
I'll try to not be boring.
Horror
Available now from the following retailers
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What you are about to read is not a story. There is no beginning, middle, or end.
What follows is nothing more than a series of journal entries involving shadow people, sleep paralysis, and crippling fear. It’s not pretty, it doesn’t follow story logic, and nothing works out well in the end.
You've been warned.
I agree so much that I just don’t know where to start. Stupid should most definitely be painful. That would solve a bunch of problems in the world. You have some really nice sound bites that I may be forced to share when confronted with some of my fellow crusaders in the fight against stupidity!
You get a gold star for holding your own with your BS leader and another since you were so young.
Thanks for stopping my by blog today! I’ve been browsing yours as well and anyone who can throw in Star Trek references and manage to picture Buffy and Starbuck into a single blog is OK in my book. I’m looking forward to reading more.
Warmly,
~h