I’m glad we’re a generation of insensitive assholes.

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Recently, I’ve come across multiple people outraging over the fact that a plane with 200+ people aboard has gone missing and other people have the audacity to make a joke about it. Such a bunch of assholes.

But you know what, I’m glad we’re a bunch of assholes. To me, that’s progress.

Before you go touting your bunched up panties  raising a self-righteous index finger, let me explain why I think it’s great that we’re a herd of insensitive, badly-timed, obtuse, emotionless assholes.

Considering the world has come a long way, not only have we developed through technology and other shizz but we’re also comfortable to laugh at ourselves, our country’s leaders, religion, death and your mother. And that says a lot. Considering our mothers were the original trolls. Our thick skinned mentalities allow less to affect us and in some weird way that keeps us focused on important things. Like cat videos on the internet.

So get your thong out of that throng and think about it for a minute, my ability to laugh at myself and others actually makes me that much more progressive. Because I accept that everyone has faults and that doesn’t make me judge you any less in your capabilities, mostly because I don’t care. And if I don’t care, I can achieve and applaud my own laurels, thereby motivating myself rather that sitting around and going ‘WHY ME LORD WHY ME?’

Progressively, because of our capacity to broaden our thoughts and be open to them, our brains have scientifically become bigger and more intelligent. So even if we live in a third world country, our minds aren’t resigned to the fact that this is the end-all. Look at some of your personal heroes or our role models of current times. There’s a sarcastic insensitive side to them that didn’t care for what people said they shouldn’t do because it goes against norms.

“Albert Einstein, you will never amount to much”

“Oh yeah? Well fuck you. And your mother.”

And in our search to be assholes about current topics, we often come across as ignorant or disconnected, quite the contrary, my dear prude. My attempt at humour is often a need to connect a current affair with something I’ve seen before which makes me informed and aware. I agree that that can be argued. But I get that there is a line, however more often than not what we say has an  element of truth wrapped up in hyperbole and histrionics.

And then there are assholes (worse than the insensitive witty kind) who are much less aware about a situation and are making inane comments about things they know NOTHING about just to sound cool; side effect of being dropped on the head multiple time during their childhood by parents with future-sight. I take no responsibility for them. Or their daylight alcoholic parents.

I’m a stickler for a good argument and I haven’t ever seen an insensitive knowledgeable asshole not give as good as a rebuttal your sister did, last night. No, but seriously, usually they have two ways to respond, they’ll either ignore you because this is 2014 and the world isn’t Mormon or they’ll justify their need to be an asshole and if they do, shut your mouth you backward peasant, because learn to take a joke that’s better than your mom.

Also sublimely, I think the ability for us gawdawful insensitive pricks to be insensitive and unscathed lends itself to the fact that we can (de)face anything. Fear is just an emotion our ancestors harbored for the unknown. What I know can’t hurt me and what I don’t know is just a topic waiting to be broken down. Fundamentally, I know enough to make a joke about something and stand up for it because people around the world need to learn to take a fucking joke. Also at the same time, assholes aren’t reacting to the core situation itself, they’re mostly reacting to overreacting drama queen sensibilities that most people acquire in the wake of tragedy or situations. Situations that didn’t matter 5 seconds ago but suddenly the world is clued in and ‘OHMYGOD I HAVE TO SHOW I CARE LIKE THEY WERE MY OWN I BETTER GET ON THE INTERNET AND WAG FINGERS AT EVERY INSENSITIVE ARSE.’ If they’re being insensitive about a person then I’m not here to defend those dipshits. They’re in a league of their own. Calm your tits, grandma.

Recently touted to be an insensitive asshole myself, let me tell you this, the fact that I’m comfortable enough to be insensitive about a current affair, would mean I’m also comfortable enough to laugh at myself. Unless I was a hypocrite, and no one likes a hypocrite. Not even me. So the ability to laugh at myself is a positive coping mechanism that not only improves my mood, it builds self-esteem. We live information-saturated lives; and in my search to determine what is significant, poses epistemological quandaries. So let me be witty about it, because as i initially said, it leads to mental capacity progress.

Ultimately, what I do with my thoughts, is my own problem. (If it was directed at you, you probably deserved it. If it was ABOUT you, then you’re so vain, you probably think this post is about you. ) I’m not here if to worry about your daft, unfocused, delicate social sensitivities. So, in conclusion, suck a dick. Like your mother did this morning.

How Ryan O’Connell saves my life everyday

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Like most people my age, Thought Catalog was the site, when words went to die into a pile of emo. Or get emo about absolutely nothing. And so I avoided it like the plague.

My life was seemingly happy and I had friendship and love and pretense. I bought expensive coffee and sat at stores and read books of princesses and distraught heroes. Sipping my coffee as I turned the pages of my life. Laughed at little children running around me and talked to them about fairytales and high fives.

I went out on weekends to drown my stress in alcohol and stayed awake until the wee hours engaging in drunken repartee about dreams and hopes and parents who would be pissed because you stayed out all night. I went out on week nights because I was that friend who you called as back up when none of your first circle or best friends had time for you.

I went because I had no friends otherwise.

I fell in love with men and women. I made love to men and women.

And then one day, I fell in nothing.

It enveloped me in pity and self-loathing. It embraced my emptiness and filled it with a void. This was the beginning of the end. I cried for days that translated into weeks and eventually months. I cried for nothing. Nothing ate at me every day until there was nothing more to eat.

One morning while wallowing in last night’s leftovers, Ryan O’Connell popped up in one of my blog feeds and told me how to be the best version of myself. The year was 2011 and I was ready for change. And so I listened to him. I printed out all he wrote and it became a manifesto. RYAN O’s MANIFESTO.

I put it up on walls, under my pillow as I cried myself to sleep, in my wallet as I bought groceries, in my head as I began to live and not just survive. Ryan O had made me a better version of myself. And then I read everything he wrote.

Even if it were 2 lines in fine print under a life insurance document.

Ryan O thought me how to survive a broken heart and how to be gay even though I wasn’t. How to live in New York city and in denial. What my shoes, my favorite magazine and soup says about me. Anything they say is fantastic because HEY talking soup! He told me what kind of Twitter user I was before I even had a Twitter account, he taught me to appreciate silliness and crave magic. He taught me to accept rejection gracefully and how questionable eye-shadow can get me the wrong kind of attention. He taught me about healthy living and unhealthy relationships, forced beginnings and happy endings.

He still teaches me every day and even more, he keeps me alive.

And humbled.

Happy Birthday MAMA!

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My Mother taught me LOGIC…”If you fall off that swing and break your neck, you can’t go to the store with me.”

My Mother taught me MEDICINE…”If you don’t stop crossing your eyes, they’re going to freeze that way.”

My Mother taught me TO THINK AHEAD…”If you don’t pass your spelling test, you’ll never get a good job!”

My Mother taught me ESP…”Put your sweater on; don’t you think that I know when you’re cold?”

My Mother taught me TO MEET A CHALLENGE…”What were you thinking? Answer me when I talk to you…Don’t talk back to me!”

My Mother taught me HUMOR…”When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don’t come running to me.”

My Mother taught me how to BECOME AN ADULT…”If you don’t eat your vegetables, you’ll never grow up.

My mother taught me ABOUT SEX…”How do you think you got here?”

My mother taught me about GENETICS…”You are just like your father!”

My mother taught me about my ROOTS…”Do you think you were born in a barn?”

My mother taught me about the WISDOM of AGE…”When you get to be my age, you will understand.”

My mother taught me about ANTICIPATION…”Just wait until your father gets home.”

My mother taught me about RECEIVING…”You are going to get it when we get home.”

And, my all-time favorite – JUSTICE…”One day you’ll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like YOU — then you’ll see what it’s like.”