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Category Archives: Essays of Misanthropy

This category consists of essays that I have written that allow me to vent my feelings on a particular matter. These entries allow me to essentially vent on a particular matter instead of just sitting on my feelings and letting them fester.

Another Fucking Driver

Drivers need to watch where the fuck they are going and what they are doing.  I don’t know if this is a L.A. thing or is a nationwide phenomenon found in every city across the country and I’m only aware of this because I live in L.A., but drivers need to pay attention to what the fuck they are doing.  I bring this up because I was almost hit by a driver the other day while I was walking home from work.  And this isn’t the first time either.  It happened before, and again, I’m commenting on this situation.

The first time that I wrote about this subject was in “A Pedestrians Right of Way” where I commented upon almost exactly the same thing.  What happened this time was that I was walking home from being dropped off at the bus stop and this asshole cut right in front of me while I was crossing the street.  I can’t imagine that he didn’t see me, but he just decided not to stop.  While I was crossing the street, I had my iPhone out and I was putting something down on the notepad app relating to my second manuscript, though I would look up once in awhile to make sure that I didn’t run into anyone or thing.  It could be said that I had my face buried in my phone, but that doesn’t justify the driver’s actions.

And it was when I was typing a note when I became aware of the situation as it was happening.  I was in the intersection and something in the corner of my eye caught my attention.  What caught my attention was a car that was closer to me then it would normally be if it was just driving along Venice.  Noticing it, I turned my head to take a look at what the situation was, and that was then the driver cut me off.    When this fuckup cut in front of me, he couldn’t have been more than a foot in front of me.  From what I recall, I didn’t break stride, but I wasn’t focusing on my gait at the time when this situation occurred.

After he cut me off, I watched this shit drive off.  And about 20 to 25 feet from where I was was a stop sign, where he stopped.  He stopped for a stop sign but he didn’t stop for me to safely finish crossing the street.  Apparently, an inanimate object has a greater value for this fuck then a fellow human being.  And it wasn’t the fear of the law that stopped him either.  He just didn’t want to inconvenience himself by acknowledging my presence and slow down his trip back home any more then he had to.

This is my problem with drivers.  They don’t care about anything that occurs outside of their little steal cage.  Nothing outside of their shitting little world matters.  They become disconnected with the rest of the world and anything that intrudes into their fragile little world only pisses them off and deserves whatever happens to it for having the “nerve” to interfere with their world.

But the thing is that I wasn’t pissed off about the situation, though I had a right to be so.  He put my immediate wellbeing into danger.  And like before, I probably should have called the cops, but I was just apathetic to the entire situation to do so.  And in retrospect, I doubt that the cops could have done anything about it.  That fuck off wouldn’t have even gotten a stern talking to.  Nothing would have been resolved and I probably wouldn’t have been left with a police report.  The only thing that would have happened if I called the police was the possibility of me being left pissed off.  It just wasn’t worth it.

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Posted by on August 13, 2011 in Essays of Misanthropy

 

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An Open Letter To My Fellow Cyclists

Dear fellow cyclists,

You don’t own the streets.  There’s nothing about you that makes you better than anyone else.  Just because you’re able to slide in effectively between vehicles, are engaging in physical exercise, and don’t need a license to operate your means of transportation doesn’t mean that you are better than anyone else in any possible way.  If you want to feel superior, win a cycling race.  Otherwise, you’re shit out of luck.  You have to abide by the same rules and regulations as everyone else.  That means you have to follow the exact same traffic laws as drivers.  Yes, I understand that drivers can be assholes, but that doesn’t mean you get to be an asshole in response.  Life is not a zero-sum-game where someone does you wrong means you get to return the favor.  Be the better person and act appropriately.

My preferred means of transportation is through cycling, so I’ve experienced a good number of assholes behind the wheel, so I know what it’s like to deal with these fuckups.  And yes, some of them have done things that really pissed me off.  But I’ve also seen assholes on bikes do exactly the same thing.  Assholes are assholes, regardless of if they travel by car, bike, or foot.  And in situations where there is a car verses a cyclist, the common assumption is that it’s the driver’s fault.  But with what I’ve seen some cyclists do, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the cyclist who was at fault.  With the actions that some of these cyclists do, the blame falls squarely upon their shoulders.

And think about it, drivers are encased in a steel cage whereas the cyclist only has a Styrofoam hat to wear if they wear one at all.  Who do you think has the advantage?  And who has the greater momentum if a collision occurs; the person with an object that weighs thousands of pounds that can reach speeds in excess of a hundred miles per hour or the person who is able to carry his vehicle with one hand over his shoulder and can barely reach the speed limit while riding?  The answer is self-evident, at least to those capable of critical thinking and aren’t entitled fucks who believe themselves superior to everyone else.  Otherwise, they deserve what’s coming to them, and trust me, it isn’t pretty.

 
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Posted by on December 7, 2010 in Essays of Misanthropy

 

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A Pedestrians Right of Way

I was walking to the market today and I came across an asshole who could have done grievous harm to me. I didn’t do anything wrong and I stayed within the boundaries that society has established. I was waiting at the corner for the light to change so that I would be able to cross the street in safety. Once it changed, I started to cross the road. However, as I was beginning to cross, the driver on the other side of the street was given the green light to go so that he could make a left turn, and he would have turned right into me if the situation wasn’t what it was. I saw him coming and he had to have seen me, but he gave no indication that he was going to stop, slow down, or yield in any possible way. He could have made his turn alright without hitting me, but my problem was that I had the right of way and his act of not slowing down and continuing along his path could have put my life and physical well being into danger. He wouldn’t have even slowed down if I didn’t have done something to make him comply with the fact that I had the right of way. That’s how I knew he had to have seen me. I swung my arms and sped up my pace, but this asshole did not stop. He just continued to drive as if he owned the road, that I had no fucking rights at all, and that my presence there was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. My safety and wellbeing was of no concern to him. I could have continued to increase by pace and forced him to stop, but in the end, I didn’t, though I wish I did. As he continued to drive, cutting me off in the process, he did so slowly and forced me to stop. As he did this, he looked at me and gave me a look that said “What the hell?” as if he was in the right and I was in the wrong. And I gave him the exact same look in return because I was in fact in the right and his action put me in imamate physical danger. And even after he passed, he continued to drive at the slower pace, as if he was still watching me and giving me a dirty look. After this fuckup passed, I continued to cross the street, but as I did, I flicked him off to give him a physical gesture of what I thought of him. Thinking back on it, I should have called the cops on him, but it’s too late now and there’s nothing I can do about it to punish this piece of shit. But by putting this down, at least I feel a little better and help prevent the anger from continuing to build up inside of me. I just wonder what this fuckup would have done if I was crossing the street on my bike instead of on foot. I also wonder if he would have stopped or if he would have just run me over.

 
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Posted by on October 6, 2010 in Essays of Misanthropy

 

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