Why Are We All Angry?

Here in the Western World, we live in the most benevolent civilization in all human history. The irony is a lot of us seem pissed off about it. Odd as it may seem, a ton of people spend a ton of time complaining about our world and the collective bounty of 3,000 years of economic and social success. Why? There are three reasons. I like to call them the Killer Bs.

Bewildered — Like our medieval ancestors, we don’t understand anything about the world we live in. Face it, folks! We’re stupid. These days, most people couldn’t tell you the difference between an aardvark and an antelope if you put burning coals between their toes. And it’s not just zoology that stumps us. Common knowledge simply isn’t common anymore. We might be able to read and write, but we’re culturally, historically, economically, scientifically and mathematically illiterate — and proud of it. For some weird reason, smart is not a currency we use or even value. However, without these intellectual building blocks, it’s impossible to make sense out of the 1,001 complex systems that govern contemporary life or to understand our place in it. At least a 12th century peasant could rely on God to justify his existence. Unfortunately, since Nietzsche shot his mouth off, we don’t even have that option. So, unable to figure out the simple how and why of what’s going on, many people boil over with frustration and say “Screw it!”

Bored — Intellectually divorced from reality, we have retreated behind our videos screens which filter out all the complexities of real life. This is a mutant utopia, scripted with gratuitous drama and broad music-hall comedy. The problem is it’s all relentlessly the same: kittens have achieved maximum cuteness, blockbuster movies bust tired old blocks, and the only shock left in those “shocking finales” is a shrug. There’s no place to go in the cyber-verse that isn’t somebody else’s sequel, prequel or reboot. All that’s left is hours and hours and hours of looping YouTube videos, everybody “liking” everything and bum-numbing binges of “must see TV.” Face it, folks! We’re bored — bored to the bone — and it’s making us bitchy.

Betrayed — We may ignore it or fail to understand it, but this is still the only reality we have — and sometimes it can be nasty. Unfortunately, when that nasty comes calling (and it always will) it’s so alien to our everybody-gets-a-rainbow existence that we think something has gone horribly wrong — and we want to know why. Flushed with excitement at the possibility of a “real” problem, but unable to comprehend any of the nuances of it, we demand an explanation for how our society failed. We want a reason, and we want it yesterday. When we don’t get it — we get angry. We begin to see evil where it doesn’t exist, impossible plots and conspiracies, tidy theories of nefarious secrets and blame — lots and lots of blame. Face it, folks! We truly believe we’re being betrayed by the very institutions we’re supposed to trust.

The Killer Bs aren’t killing the most benevolent civilization in history, but they’re certainly making it unpleasant. If we could get them under control, we’d all be a lot happier.

I’m Scared Of The Mob (2018)

I’m a coward. I’m scared of the mob.

One of the problems with observing our modern world is you spend most of your life in fear. This comes from having an opinion and voicing it outside the comfy confines of your own head. It’s a truism in the 21^st century that, whenever you say anything about anything, you’re going to piss off somebody. Most people get all free-speech-macho about this, but when push comes to shove, everybody knows that our society is unforgiving around unguarded opinions. More importantly, when the mob turns against you, you’re punished severely. This is why we’ll never produce a contemporary Mark Twain: the consequences of unedited thoughts, in today’s world, are just too dangerous. Far better to be momentarily safe than monumentally sorry. Thus, people with pens tend to stick to the road most travelled. Unfortunately, that road is crowded with dumbass clichés. Future anthropologists who attempt to piece together our society from the mountain of evidence we’re going to leave behind will conclude we had an unholy obsession with heterosexual white men. They are the nominated villains of our time, so naturally the record will read like a bad John Grisham novel. It’s a sorry state, I suppose, but it beats the hell out of our world according to Suzanne Collins and E. L. James!

Actually, there’s no real problem with history recording our time as the shallow end of the intellectual swimming pool. None of us are going to be around to be embarrassed by it anyway. Nor do we have to worry about future chroniclers calling us cultural cowards. They won’t be the slightest bit interested in our existence. After all, you get historical ink from speaking up, not lying down.

The thing that burns the bacon, however, is that having set the table for a vigorous and dynamic dialogue, we’re now scared skinny of the food fight it might create. Just look around: we have a mostly educated public with the information of the ages at their fingertips (literally.) We’ve cracked open the Old Boys’ Club and now have instant access to all manner of ideas from everywhere and everyone. Furthermore, we live in a free society, where (for the most part) the rule of law gives free range to these ideas. Life is good, right? Wrong! The first thing we did with this intellectual banquet was set dietary restrictions. Not to beat the metaphor to death, we’ve populated our world with so many sacred cows that, in the land of intellectual plenty, we’re starving to death.

It used to be that the only thing that governed public discourse was civility. There was decorum in our discussion. For example, we didn’t call each other names – like alt-right asshat and snowflake libtard. Perhaps certain subjects were handled delicately, but there was never any thought that they should be avoided. In fact, it was a matter of honour to shine light into the darker parts of our society – distasteful or not.

These days, those days are over. We have more conversational taboos than a tribe of Borneo headhunters. (No offence, headhunters!) There are a ton of subjects in our world that are simply no longer open for discussion. Some of them I can’t even name in these pages without hollering up a verbal lynch mob. In the past few years, this list has expanded exponentially. Soon the only subjects anyone will feel comfortable commenting on will be Donald Trump’s infidelities and the zombie apocalypse.

People like me, who know enough about history to understand what the mob is capable of, are cowards at heart. It’s one thing to go Vaclav Havel on the powers that be and strike out against censorship and oppression. After all, history shows us that eventually the pen is mightier than the sword. However, it’s quite another to stand alone in front of a self-righteous mob of social media trolls who are gathering the torches for a good old-fashioned Twitter roast.

In these troubled times, I do not fear the endless apparatus of the omnipotent state. It’s the Eagerly Offended anarchy of social media that scares the crap out of me.

Full Disclosure: I originally wrote this is 2013 but had to do some editing because things have gotten a lot worse in 5 years.

Mean Words About Insurance

The entire insurance industry is based on the simple premise that there are any number of ways to rob somebody without sticking a gun in their face. Over centuries of thievery, insurance people have mastered every one of them. To call insurance companies shysters is an insult to shysters everywhere. Here are a few things everyone should know about insurance.

FULL DISCLOSURE: I’ve had insurance in one form or another for most of my life, so I am well-versed in the wiles of these swindlers.

Insurance Agents — These are magical people who are literally everywhere when they’re trying to sell you insurance but suddenly vanish off the face of the earth after you buy it.

The Policy — This a mind-baffling 60 page document written by a cabal of blood-sucking lawyers. (No, not all lawyers are bloodsuckers, but the 99% who are give the others a bad name.) Its express purpose is to legally deny everything the salespeople (agent) ever said to you — including “Good morning.”

Deductible — This is a sneaky way of saying “We’re always going to keep some of the money we owe you, because — uh — we can.” Nobody has ever given me a satisfactory reason why the “deductible” even exists. What is its actual purpose? Or how do I, the customer, benefit from having a “deductible?” Want some serious John Oliver grins? Phone up your insurance company and ask them to explain the “deductible” to you.

Claim Form — This a mind-baffling 60 page questionnaire written by a cabal of blood-sucking lawyers. (No, not all lawyers are bloodsuckers but the 99% who are give the others a bad name.) Its express purpose is a) to prove you’re a lying, cheating criminal or b) to frustrate you to the point of gut-splattering suicide.

The Payout — Should catastrophe actually befall you, get ready for a trial by fire. This ordeal will include (but will not be limited to) a mountain of paperwork, months of argument, 19 emails, 27 telephone calls, 8 hours on hold, a letter to your political representative, a formal complaint to the Board of Trade, and thousands of dollars to your own blood-sucking lawyer. Then, at the precise moment you’re seriously contemplating homicide, suicide — or both — the insurance company will offer you a minuscule amount of money (minus the “deductible”) for your trouble. This will be an insulting fraction of what they promised you when you bought the damn policy, but a word of advice. Take it — or they’ll start the whole process all over again.

So what’s it all about:

What is Insurance? — Insurance is a bet you make with a nameless, faceless, soulless corporation that something terrible is going to happen to you. Every month, you ante up a sum of money (called the premium.) This “premium” is held by the insurance company, and if you happen to avoid disaster for 30 days, you lose the bet and the nameless, faceless, soulless corporation gets to keep your money. This little exercise is repeated — month after month, year after year — until you either go broke, get sick, die or your house burns down. Thus, weird as it sounds, every month that life is good, you lose the bet and lose your money. But if your life does go to hell and you finally win the bet — you still lose!

DISCLAIMER: This is satire, and I am sure that there are plenty of insurance companies out there who are honest and trustworthy — but like unicorns, leprechauns and howling banshees, I’ve never seen one.

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