The F Word

I try to be light-hearted and jovial in this blog, but sometimes LIFE just kicks me in the nads and suddenly my tendency to laugh at shit is lost.  In my most recent post of Jeff's Brain Matter, I wrote of that chick who tricked me on the Facebook.  Tricked me into thinking I was something that I'm clearly not.  This edition today, may touch base on that, slightly, but this isn't going to be a vehicle to further run myself down.  I just need to vent.  In lieu of lying back on a therapists couch, this medium can be very therapeutic.  I recommend everyone have a blog to work out their thoughts.

Recently, a former high school chum posted some kind of malarkey on the Facebook defending the importance of bees and hornets.  I do recognize that bees are important, but hornets?  I replied that I detest hornets, especially when they fly into my house.  I mentioned that I swat the hell outta them and if they're still twitching, I add salt to their proverbial wound, by taking them out to one of the many ant hills in my yard and I serve them up to the ants to devour that sucker alive.  Circle of life, kind of shit.  She replied to my comment that I was "full of hate".

I don't hate anything, except maybe hate, itself.  On closer inspection, I guess I can add to that, I also hate the F-word.  Not F*CK, but the other F-word.  FAKE!!

I've never been a fan of the word fake, going way back to when I began watching professional wrestling.  While the matches are often scripted or pre-determined, and yes, much of the moves done in the ring are done in a manner to cause the least amount of real harm, accidents happen and people do get hit for real and real injuries occur and sometimes, even worse. 

RIP Owen Hart. 😔

What those men and women can do in that ring, night in and night out is nothing short of incredible and for people to slough it off as nothing more than pretend, is f*cking offensive.

My disdain for fake lies much further across the borders of just professional wrestling.  I hate fake people.  People who pretend to be that which they are not.  People who expend SO much energy into pretending to be someone or something else, instead of working on themselves to be honest to who they are.  By my own admission, I've mentioned that I do mask who I really am from most people.  I don't outright reinvent myself, I just hold back facets of my personality that I don't think mixed company would appreciate.  Is it being dishonest?  Perhaps, but it's not unlike hiding the truth about Santa Claus from our children.  It's a lie, but it's to protect their joy and happiness.  This is similar to what I do.  The only person to see my completeness, a 100% of my personality is my cat and he seems to love me unconditionally so that's good enough for me.

There's a person or several persons on Facebook who pretend to be David Sparks aka Heavy D from TV's Diesel Brothers on Discovery Velocity in Canada (MotorTrendTV in the U.S.)  On Facebook, they will randomly slip into your comments, congratulating you on being a "winner" and invite you to their website, where they will attempt to bamboozle you out of personal information and steal your money and/or identity.  I've never fallen for this fraudulent site, and have repeatedly reported them to the authorities at Facebook, who comeback and claim that they are legitimate.  Meanwhile, Heavy D has posted many times via his own YouTube channel that these sites are fake and shouldn't be followed and to (absolutely) never share any personal information with them.  Facebook turns a blind eye.  F*cking pathetic.  Wish there was a way to police the Facebook police.

This chick that attempted to bamboozle me on Facebook, continued to try and win me over after I busted her on being fake.  "She", if they were even a real she, attempted to tell me that they were a former sex worker and that they left that life.  Meanwhile on YouTube, the very person that she claimed she was, had posted an update to her life in recent months.  On her Twitter, she invited fans to come watch her do a Live Sex Show.  You can't fake LIVE.

Hate is a strong word.  I don't feel comfortable using it.  It's like the word 'love'.  I refuse to say that to anyone, unless I absolutely mean it.  So yes.  If I choose to say "I hate..." then chances are, I really do hate that thing.  I hate liars, cheats and fake people.  I hate the fact that they make me hate.

If people invested as much time and energy into promoting their strong attributes as they do faking their personalities, the world might be a little nicer place to live in.  Don't ya think?

Sensible Values

When I die, I'd like to donate my brain to science.  Unfortunately, I wouldn't benefit from the science of learning what makes my mind tick, the root causes of why it meanders and thinks about the random shit that it does, but I'm sure it'd be an interesting read, nonetheless...

The latest random thought to pop into my nugget and stay like an unwanted house guest, refers to the "Little Red Riding Hood" story.  I have a plethora of thoughts that root themselves in my head and, thankfully, I have this avenue (Jeff's Brain Matter) to discuss and investigate these thoughts, and I promise to eventually get to many of these thought-provoking-subjects, but today, let's stick to Red Riding Hood.

Everybody knows the children's story of "Little Red Riding Hood".  Grandma's sick, so Little Red ventures out through a scary forest in a bad neighbourhood, wrought with hungry carnivores, with a basket full of baked goods, bound for granny's house.  She interacts with a terrifying wolf, who instead of viciously attacking a helpless little girl, comes up with an elaborate ruse to disguise himself as her grandmother, in order to capture and consume the unsuspecting youth, but before his plan can come to fruition, a local woodsman breaks in and (SPOILER ALERT) slews the hungry wolf, thus saving the day.

I question the logistics of the story.  One, irresponsibly sending a small child through a dense forest to grandma's house, alone and unprotected.  The story was written in the 17th century, so it's not as if mom and dad could've tossed Red into the back of the Honda and driven to grandma's, but surely people possessed some kind of common sense in relation to child safety.  Two, the riding hood.

Think about this.  Her name literally contained the garment that she wore, which I surmise means she wore that f*cking cloak ALL THE TIME, and why wear a riding hood?  Probably because she rode a horse and rode it A LOT.  This being said, why didn't she ride the horse to her grandmother's house?  The same dangers would exist, but she'd have a little more security riding atop a spirited steed.  But she didn't.  I suspect because Red's parents placed more value on the horse than the life and safety of their beloved daughter.  That's pretty f*cked up!!

The whole story sounds iffy, at best.  Even for a fabled story, written centuries ago, there's no lesson to be learned, but I have learned a thing or two: (i) Wolves are stupid and over-think every situation. (ii) Breaking and entering was an allowable offense by an axe-wielding maniac, if there's a life to be saved; which I think my be acceptable today. (iii) Parents in the 17th century, lacked sensible values.

**If grandma is prone to sickness, why the hell is she living in the middle of nowhere?