Do Not Belittle My Suffering With Your Own Tales Of Tragedy
Good Morrow,
I apologise for my lack of posts since Boxing Day, but the catastrophic events that occurred in the SE of Asia made it difficult. Though I wasn’t caught in the massive cunt of a tidal wave (why the fuck are they called tsunamis now?), it did do significant damage in my ‘mother country’ and I felt a little awkward about posting my own trivial rants in the midst of such a colossal disaster. Hopefully this mini-apocalypse has made you start sharing your wealth. It’s not as though you shouldn’t have already, you little pricks.
Sentimentality aside (*hawk, spit!*), let’s get back on track. My initial paragraph leads nicely into what I want to get really angry about today – relative suffering. Okay, whilst setting genocides and such against my own personal romantic setbacks is an obviously humbling affair, there are other situations where it’s just god damned annoying.
1. Forcing “Perspective”
I’d love to rip the tonsils out of people that try and force a little perspective on your situation. The “oh, but my ex ran off with my father and then cheated on him *with me* whilst having AIDS all along” crowd. You know the ones. You tell them something that tore your heart into fleshy confetti and, somehow, they think that the fact they’ve been anally raped by a priest using a crucifix means you shouldn’t be too upset.
Fuck that.
It’s like they’re having some sort of contest with you to see who got most fucked over, and whoever wins gets the honourary right to whinge on above anybody else. “That’s nothing, my boyfriend put a land-mine in my arse and shafted me until it went off – breach of trust, anal sex, physical damage and military weaponry - that’s 1000 points - can everybody shut up about their own problems and mollycoddle me now?”
Don’t get me wrong – I totally sympathise with people that have had a harder time than myself. But suffering is relative – a pin-prick on an angel in heaven will cause more grief than an unanaesthetized amputation on a prisoner in hell. Life’s a bitch, but we’re on sliding scales of pain here. Different people have different pain thresholds.
It’s not hard to be sympathetic towards someone who’s had a harder time than you. The real virtue is showing compassion for those that have had an easier time. Be a saint, go on.
Unfortunately, nobody’s a saint, so perspective is forced as a matter of course. Then we come to the ‘transition phase’ of cuntitude.
2. Implied Perspective by Proxy
What the cack does that mean? It’s like (1), except nobody’s trying to score points. You just don’t talk about your problems because you assume their triviality to other people. Put up and shut up, there’s a good fellow.
It’s roundabout this second level that we come to the crux of the cunt.
3. Perspective As Denial
Ah, shitsticks. You’ve only gone and denied you even had a problem, because clearly it’s just a little thing. Nobody else talks how much pain they went through after getting dumped after three weeks. I mean, you couldn’t have been in love - what the hell are you on, man? It’s nothing! Just forget about it and move on. Don’t tell us about it. Don’t think about it. Just fuck it and move along.
Denial takes so many forms, and this is the most sinister one. Perspective can be a great thing when you’re fucked off about something or project planning, but when it comes to your own, personal pain; don’t buy into it. However you feel is however you feel. Don’t feel that you have to pin your situation onto the big measuring stick of everybody’s problems, and then decide how much thought to give it. Your pin will always be near the bottom. If you’re in emotional pain, never think ‘it’s not a big deal’. That sort of pain is always a big deal. Investigate that pain, accept that it’s fucked you up, deal with it properly and then move on. It’ll bring you that much closer to Nirvana.
Of course, nobody ever thinks like this. Everybody’s comparing. What a crock and what a shame.
And if you think this rant is trivial then I hope your breath turns to turds. Not that it smells of turds – that it actually becomes a solid mass of turds, packing your lungs and dribbling through your nostrils as you choke and suffocate on a steaming pile of shit.
I apologise for my lack of posts since Boxing Day, but the catastrophic events that occurred in the SE of Asia made it difficult. Though I wasn’t caught in the massive cunt of a tidal wave (why the fuck are they called tsunamis now?), it did do significant damage in my ‘mother country’ and I felt a little awkward about posting my own trivial rants in the midst of such a colossal disaster. Hopefully this mini-apocalypse has made you start sharing your wealth. It’s not as though you shouldn’t have already, you little pricks.
Sentimentality aside (*hawk, spit!*), let’s get back on track. My initial paragraph leads nicely into what I want to get really angry about today – relative suffering. Okay, whilst setting genocides and such against my own personal romantic setbacks is an obviously humbling affair, there are other situations where it’s just god damned annoying.
1. Forcing “Perspective”
I’d love to rip the tonsils out of people that try and force a little perspective on your situation. The “oh, but my ex ran off with my father and then cheated on him *with me* whilst having AIDS all along” crowd. You know the ones. You tell them something that tore your heart into fleshy confetti and, somehow, they think that the fact they’ve been anally raped by a priest using a crucifix means you shouldn’t be too upset.
Fuck that.
It’s like they’re having some sort of contest with you to see who got most fucked over, and whoever wins gets the honourary right to whinge on above anybody else. “That’s nothing, my boyfriend put a land-mine in my arse and shafted me until it went off – breach of trust, anal sex, physical damage and military weaponry - that’s 1000 points - can everybody shut up about their own problems and mollycoddle me now?”
Don’t get me wrong – I totally sympathise with people that have had a harder time than myself. But suffering is relative – a pin-prick on an angel in heaven will cause more grief than an unanaesthetized amputation on a prisoner in hell. Life’s a bitch, but we’re on sliding scales of pain here. Different people have different pain thresholds.
It’s not hard to be sympathetic towards someone who’s had a harder time than you. The real virtue is showing compassion for those that have had an easier time. Be a saint, go on.
Unfortunately, nobody’s a saint, so perspective is forced as a matter of course. Then we come to the ‘transition phase’ of cuntitude.
2. Implied Perspective by Proxy
What the cack does that mean? It’s like (1), except nobody’s trying to score points. You just don’t talk about your problems because you assume their triviality to other people. Put up and shut up, there’s a good fellow.
It’s roundabout this second level that we come to the crux of the cunt.
3. Perspective As Denial
Ah, shitsticks. You’ve only gone and denied you even had a problem, because clearly it’s just a little thing. Nobody else talks how much pain they went through after getting dumped after three weeks. I mean, you couldn’t have been in love - what the hell are you on, man? It’s nothing! Just forget about it and move on. Don’t tell us about it. Don’t think about it. Just fuck it and move along.
Denial takes so many forms, and this is the most sinister one. Perspective can be a great thing when you’re fucked off about something or project planning, but when it comes to your own, personal pain; don’t buy into it. However you feel is however you feel. Don’t feel that you have to pin your situation onto the big measuring stick of everybody’s problems, and then decide how much thought to give it. Your pin will always be near the bottom. If you’re in emotional pain, never think ‘it’s not a big deal’. That sort of pain is always a big deal. Investigate that pain, accept that it’s fucked you up, deal with it properly and then move on. It’ll bring you that much closer to Nirvana.
Of course, nobody ever thinks like this. Everybody’s comparing. What a crock and what a shame.
And if you think this rant is trivial then I hope your breath turns to turds. Not that it smells of turds – that it actually becomes a solid mass of turds, packing your lungs and dribbling through your nostrils as you choke and suffocate on a steaming pile of shit.
posted by Juliet is Bleeding... | 1:09 pm
The tsunami was not called a tidal wave because it was not a tidal wave. A tidal wave is just that, a wave caused by tides. The tsunami was not caused by tidal occurances, it was caused by undersea tremors from an earthquake of large proportions.
Thanks.