2 comments on “About that stigma we’re all supposed to be carrying…

  1. Probably mental health professionals aren’t the most trustworthy source for determinations regarding whether a spiritual condition [asshole] is a mental disorder. And ignorant is certainly a matter of perspective we all feel qualified to indulge where the mental activities and horizontal rhetorical vomiting is involved. But a prevailing condition such as asshole seems to me to be the industry standard against which all other normality should be measured. That’s just me, however. J

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  2. A “prevailing condition such as asshole” is a cacophony of quirks, often unique to a given individual. Some assholes are relentlessly yet appropriately despised, others might be tragically and disproportionately unappreciated. Depends on their manner and how many of their idiosyncrasies affect the lives, peace and self-described nirvana of others.
    By nature I am somewhat of an asshole but I try to package it with a modicum of entertainment value, while at times I can be a real asshole.
    It befuddles me that Kaiser Permanente has never filed a Restraining Order against me, however I was once sued for Sexual Harassment over the alleged theft of a few large dollops of potato salad by a dear friend of mine who wasn’t within 500 yards of the serving platter at the time referred to through the office grapevine to the Plaintiff in the case.
    My in-laws think I’m an asshole ’cause of some of the stupid mistakes I’ve made. And they were indeed stupid mistakes, and I can see where it makes me look like an asshole.
    But I could meet with my two dearest friends in life – a 6′ 4″ Hobbit and a Six Toed Bear, neither named Harvey nor Tony – and sit and actually converse (as opposed to “conversate”, which two of us are beyond the age through which we can do whatever it is that’s supposed be, and the third is a Brit who scoffs at the use of such blithering colloquialisms), and after our time together can look back at the smiles and hear the laughs, and recalling it the next day think “Damn, it was good seeing that asshole.”
    As deep and as fascinating, as contradictory and convoluted as the phrase is by axiomatic definitions, I find myself thinking back to the Henry Miller / “Tropic of Cancer” Court:
    I can’t tell you what one is, but I’ll know one when I see one.

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