A defence of conformists
You know all those people who go on and fucking on about “sheeple”? Those moaning whiney cunts that cant stop griping about conformists. The people who stand to the left when an escalator says “stand to the right” ooohohoooo fucking hooo! You stood on the left! Your a dare devil man! But why? What are you fighting against? Fighting against conformists is like is like fighting against left for right’s sake.
Ok, I know it seems cool to stand out, but let’s face it; everyone else is standing out just like you. You wanna be different, just like everyone else. Well let’s fucking face it shall it? The only REAL and HONEST individuals who won’t conform and let anyone tell him to do? Is smearing shit over his pants on a park bench while screaming at pigeons.
Conforming to what everyone else does is a social mechanism and a survival trait. It’s not perfect and it betrays us quite often, I’m not saying that, but conforming naturally is something that is built into us because of our herd animal instincts. Herds don’t have non-conformists because they’re dead.
“Ugh, fucking sheeple! Running in that direction I’M gonna go THIS wa-ARGH!” and Zebra is dead. Eaton by conformist lion.
I suppose what really gets me about people who claim to be non-conformists is the fact they tend to surround themselves with people who dress and act the same way and the most guilty of this is the emo plague of late.
Oh god I’ve gone and started on the emo’s. But fuck it. Since I’ve started I’ll finish. Now I have nothing against emo in principle, like I have nothing against people who enjoy fucking stuffed toys. That’s your business, have fun but don’t ask me to join and don’t give me a dirty look if don’t want to join.
That’s right; I’m fucked off with “higher than thou” attitude of emo kids. Nothing against the style, though it is fucking stupid (my arms can’t fit down your trouser thighs?!), it is more the air of superiority. Yes we had that when I was into the whole classification thing, but it was never this bad!...was it?
Fuck I’ve gone on a tangent. Conformism does tend to betray us quite often, take Nazism, bush, communism, Feminists. Ok that last one was a bit of a joke but seriously, when human beings tend to agree on an idea it spreads like a virus that grows stronger and stronger. I believe the idea is called a Meme? Anyway when this virus takes a strong political view people get hurt and yes that fucking sucks but don’t blame conformism for it, blame yourselves for submitting to conformism.
Conformism is a great power that should be taken carefully. Running away from fire? Good. Stoning someone to death? Bad. Ok those were two far too easy examples. Trying to fit in with a crowd? Especially if you have to get to know them? Good! Let them know you slowly, that’s good conformism. Getting to know a crowd that tells sick and racist jokes? Tell them you’re not happy with it but don’t burn your bridges. Conforming to clothes, to styles, to certain trends of music even, these are all parts of life and you have to pick and choose what you want. Don’t shun something because it’s popular or else you’re a class A retard.
This is a bit of an abject rant really because I’ve never socialized with anyone this stupid, but I know of them and they make me angry on principle. But I think I’m ready to get to my point now.
If you want to conform then do it, if you don’t then have a reason too. Don’t just be against conformism just for the sake of it.
Accents.
I have something to admit, I am a major lover of accents, the different tones of pronunciations, the way some letters are added and removed. You can tell a man or woman where they’re from just by their accent. Mostly.
You see I love accents because I don’t really have one. Well that’s a lie and I know it is. I have what is known as a posh accent. Except I don’t, people who meet me for the first time seem to believe I’m of some upper class upbringing and my daddy smeared fox blood in my face and I’m an heir to the Robinson ka-zillions. Fact is that’s fucking WRONG. If you know me you know I’m not posh at all. I am a Manc born and bred, the problem is I have been taught a mixture of how to talk “properly” (ahem) and how to talk like a proper manc so I tend to slip in between.
The mixture is somewhat confusing to people who don’t know whether to bow or lock their car.
This is why accents fascinate me. They introduce so much of a person to you. A man could say to “Fine ducks we’re having this winter” and just by the tone of his voice you could tell where he came from.
Take Billy Connolly for example, that man’s voice is fucking velvet on gold its so nice, he can tell a story about flaming turds and it still sounds so charming this man could be gnawing on your balls so hard you’d scream. But if he was talking you’d offering some sauce for your balls.
Australian
Australia has such a relaxed accent that they sound like you could do anything to them and they wont mind, have you ever heard an angry Australian? Me neither. “Gwan mate, rape my daughter with a rusty butter knife! But couldya get us a brew?” but really I have nothing more to say on accents. I geuss I kinda blew my load early on this one!
Relaxing bathes or how they’re not.
Becky recently convinced me to try a nice relaxing bath where I could relax myself with a scented, lit candles, yadda yadda style bath. Well the only thing I can say is that it equates more to torture rather than relaxation. Actually thats not the only thing I can say about it because I have plenty to say about the whole fucking ordeal. I cant imagine how this whole trend started, I geuss some wandering stressed idiot fell into one of those natural hot baths when a tree was shedding it’s petals and this complete idiotic twat shouted to his wife “get me some candles! This searing pain is nice!” I don’t know where this sado masochistic trend came from but I really wish it would fuck right off.
I started this expedition into pain when becky had bought some things from “Lush” which is a shop designed to assault the senses. As soon as you walk into a shop of lush your nose is bombarded by a million billion scents all at once. Your nose gives up and joines a commune in Nevada.
The searing hot water filled the bathtub and I tested it by putting my fingers in. This was my first mistake.
There was candles EVERYWHERE. I could not escape the fire that surrounded my bath. It was like escape from coldtiz with hot water. The water was hot, but not hot enough to cause pain so in my manly mind I thought “well if I’m gonna have a relaxing bath with candles then I’m gonna be a man about it!” this was very very stupid.
Becky introduced the blue bomb, now this may have been a clue. A bomb is generally not a good thing, yet this blue thing had invaded my hot water and started fizzing. I usually don’t take this to be a good sign, in horror movies the answer to something fizzing is to run away yet I was about to dip my body into it!
As I lowered my body into the bath I tried to think about the nice smelling blue water and how relaxing it was. How it would relax my muscles and ease the knots and tensions in them. I tried to think about how nice it was but all that entered my head was how fast my heart was beating and why I was sweating. This fucking sucked!
I was sweating on all my parts not covered by blue water! Everything was hot and my heart was beating too fast, I was gonna die by relaxing! I was half expecting becky to come in with two electrodes saying “now this REALLY relaxes me!” and drop them in. Electrocution really chills you out.
I got to thinking about the water and how it was a pale blue. What else was a pale blue water? Hmmm..... oh yeah. FUCKING TOILET WATER!
this was it, I was the turd floating in the blue water of a toilet.
My only solace was the book I’d brought in which I would read by candle light and take my mind off things but all the sweating and water was causing it to get wet! I couldn’t even do what REALLY relaxed me because of this torture!
