Feel free to skip this, it’s just me frothing at the mouth over something personal.
I’m furious with somebody.
That somebody is being a hypocrite on Twitter.
I would like to tweet back something cutting.
I’m not going to.
BUT I WANT TO.
I don’t like it when people hurt my friends. I tend to overreact. And of course, I’m not over-reacting as Jenny Smith, I’m over-reacting as Jenny Crusie with all the baggage that entails. So that’s bad. But hypocrites make me crazy, so I’m posting here instead of on Twitter. It seems like a good compromise. My only other option is silence. Okay, that’s not really an option for me, but I can mutter quietly in my little corner of the universe. (That would be here.)
So my snit today is about a guy who tells his wife he wants a divorce on Jan. 1, leaves her stunned, horrified, and alone to explain things to her children while he takes off on vacation, and then gets engaged to somebody else at the end of the month, only to sorrowfully post on Twitter that the divorce was a hard decision for him to make.
I would really like to reply to that. I won’t. My friend doesn’t want me to, and she’s the one dealing with this, not me. But . . .
You know, if people want to be asshats–say our President–I can respect that. The choice to be a duplicitous son of a bitch is as legitimate as the choice to be a saint. You get to choose who you want to be, how you want to live.
But then, for fuck’s sake, OWN IT.
I’m a bitch. I know I’m a bitch. I’ve never pretended NOT to be a bitch. I figure as long as I’m up front about it, people will see me coming and either know what they’re getting into or get out of my way. I am not a fuzzy bunny, unless I’m the fuzzy bunny from the Holy Grail. And I’m okay with that as long as I’m not kidding myself that I’m really a nice person. Polonious was a bore, but he was right about knowing yourself. He just didn’t go far enough. Know yourself, be true to that self, and then BE HONEST ABOUT IT.
Trump is a sociopathic narcissist. He’ll do whatever it takes to get the applause, bend reality however he has to in order to believe he’s a winner. And now he’s taking his pathological need to be THE BEST national, and he’s letting the dregs of humanity dictate policy because they tell him he’s great, and my country is going down the tubes. The thing is, if he’d won the election and then said, “HAH, gotcha,” and resigned, I’d have a kind of grudging respect for him. He’d have accomplished something–the disintegration of the Democratic party establishment–and he’d have rick-rolled the party that tried to laugh him out of the election, and he’d have won by thumbing his nose at politics in general. There’s something kind of noble about that, even if he has mobilized the worst of racist, sexist, intolerant, dickhead America. Instead, he thinks he’s a great President, the best, and now my country is in chaos, all because this asshat will not admit that he’s in over his head and that people loathe him because of what he’s saying and doing. My only comfort is that he’s only been in office a month and he’s already in flames. With any luck at all, Paul Ryan will pull a coup and take over the government. I think Paul Ryan is a despicable weasel, but he’s a sane despicable weasel, and in the end, he’d be a pragmatist. I don’t think Ryan says, “Hey, I’m a man of the people.” He says, “Hey, I love Ayn Rand, screw the people.” If only Trump were that kind of honest, despicable weasel, we’d all be in better shape.
I feel the same way about this guy on Twitter. If you get engaged four weeks after you ask for your divorce, it was not a difficult decision. You had a plan. Embrace your despicably weaselly efficiency, if nothing else.
January: The month of Weasels With No Sense of Shame Who Refuse To Accept Responsibility For Their Weaselhood.