Take to the Oars

While talking about heat waves and flop sweats and mustaches and tear-based cocktails and all of those things as the basis for a porno with Visser, he said something that I thought was hilarious:

We're getting a little older, man. Anything and everything does it for me anymore.

It's funny, but I didn't realize how subtly my expectations have lowered over the years. I'm not even talking about the weird shit I'll look at on the internet in order to promote... "sensory activities." That shit gets dark. Generally, my tolerance for bullshit has increased exponentially in recent years, which at first glance seems counterintuitive. Like, don't people get crotchety? Having to wait in line at the bank is supposed to fill me with a righteous fury that is passive-aggressively taken out on the teller and, later, my wife/children. The American Dream isn't what it used to be.

Frankly, I can roll with this. A friend of mine always preached a philosophy of "baby in the backseat": in her mind, if someone is actin' the fool, it's probably because of something serious like a baby choking in the backseat or something. What a hilarious mental picture! Every day, a million imaginary babies are born and painfully choke to death, I meet so many idiots. There's got to be a logical extension of this that applies to murders, rapists, etc. If you're involved in a hockey riot or something, you should be allowed to stab someone. Society has mores for a reason.

For each shitty thing that happens, something good balances it out. It's moral sphereism. Intent is irrelevant, action is significant. Making yourself happy--if you're not hurting others--isn't a bad thing. Karma doesn't apply, though. Go out and make something happen. And other times, don't. Staying in for Law and Order is okay, too.

Just not Criminal Intent.

Until an asteroid,
Adam