themisanthropicoptimist.com

Nothing makes me want to prove them all wrong more so than when some arrogant piece of shit says something inane. Here is a prime and most recent example: “Why bother man, the system has always favored them and not us. You are actually only hurting the ones that you are trying to help.” Wait, did he just call me “man” and should I respond with a, “but dude”? Fuck off idiot.

If this is really your ideology then why get out of bed in the morning? Should you not just remove yourself and those with a similar outlook on the state of the world from the equation? By the way, that was my “nice” way of saying eat a fucking bullet you useless assclown. I mean fuck, I’m a god damn misanthrope and even I think that there is hope for our species when it comes to how we treat one another. But you, well you obviously don’t get out much.

Let me explain it in terms that everyone here can easily understand: “There are those among us that are not for sale; not now, not ever. Call me naïve if you like but I live in a world where when push comes to shove, apathy and mediocrity do not rule the day; a world where empathy and compassion eventually, albeit, slowly, always prevails.

Short and sweet is all I’ve got this time around; well short at least.

I find it odd that I have so few visitors yet I am somehow important enough to be inundated with spam bombs on a daily basis. Seriously, your fucktards have nothing better to do?

Enjoy your cancer you fucking low life douche nozzles.

If your version of the “good life” is striving to be on a reality television show I hope that you get your wish and then get cancer and die. (Is that too harsh?) Of course I want no one to get cancer but I do want people to die because we’ve pushed the 7 billion button and no one has yet to say, “STOP THAT!” So where is your goD now? What’s he doing up there anyhow, man-scaping his one testicle? Obviously he only has one nut because if he had two he would have done this shit right the first time around.

We’re a selfish lot down here aren’t we? We want what we want and we want it now. We need our instant orgasm infomercial and it better be in the mail . . .TODAY! We leave our box of a house to go to work and get into our box on wheels and before we are even out of the driveway, we are on the mobile talking to, “who the fuck cares”, and “why the fuck are you calling them this early in the morning?” At what point exactly did we become so self important and narcissistic? I have a feeling that even Narcissus would be ashamed of humanity at this point. (If he were real that is.)

Your prosaic saying, “He who dies with the most whateverthefuck” has run its course and needs to die. Our world is in shambles yet people are still out there buying, selling and trading their souls just so they can have a bit more than the next guy. Speaking of the next guy, fuck him as well. Fuck your socialist, communistic, hippy mindset. Don’t you just love it when some idiot comes along and strings together a bunch of different so called ethos’ and they actually have no fucking clue as to what they just said or wrote? Fuck off!

We are here for one reason and one reason only: to help each other through it all. Point, set and motherfucking match. You either get it or you don’t. It’s just a fucking ride man. Of course that’s Bill Hick’s but I seriously doubt he would care if I borrowed it once more unlike that thief Leary. There maybe no cure for cancer Denis but there is a cure for being a lying piece of shit asshole and it is called my fist.

Stop being consumed with being a consumer and do something with you life. Spend time with your family; make a fucking memory, because those my dear readers, are the things that fucking matter. It’s dark near the end and we all slowly burn out like a spent candle in the end. Don’t let the new age assbags tell you differently, we all die alone. It doesn’t matter how many people are at your side on your death bed because they are not dying, you are. They are simply there to help themselves cope, not you. I know it sounds cold but it is true. You know what’s going down, YOU’RE FUCKING DYING! Sure I would like my wife and kids there to have that one last kiss and hug but when the light goes out, it is just me; it is just you and it is just blackness.

I shed my tiny bit of fear on being out spoken years ago and my wife says that I am even better at it now than I was when we first met. I don’t give a fuck about what people think and neither should you. We get one shot at this roller coaster so do it right, do it the best possible way that you can. Am I right or am I wrong, well that is not for me to decide, it is for you to sack up and give it a go. Will people laugh at you; mock you; think you’re nuts, you bet your dead mom’s ass they will but guess what: it’s their fear of you and of life that they are laughing at. It is that uncomfortable laugh when someone tells a joke that someone somewhere told you that you should not laugh at but you do anyway. Maybe a classic “dead baby joke” or a “insert your stupid belief in a fairytale place that never existed in the first place joke,” and they laugh because deep down they are scared, as are most people, of the inevitable demise of their physical form. I for one enjoy every breath that I take. (Even the angry ones.) But I also long for that unavoidable day when I return to the stuff that stars are made of and can become one with the cosmos once more.

Stop for a second and ponder just how insignificant we are and then take a deep breath and exhale, for you are also blessed to have been gifted with this amazing thing called, “reality”. You don’t need a box to see it; you do not need a pompous host to tell you about it and you definitely do not need to be on an island with a bunch of other douche bags to experience it. All you have to do is . . . go outside and live each moment as if it will never, ever happen again because you guessed it, it won’t.

Find your Ixtapa-Zihuatanejo, even if it is only in your mind and never leave. In other words, find you bliss; to steal from the immortal Joseph Campbell.

Somewhere the saving and putting away had to begin again and someone had to do the saving and keeping, one way or another, in books, in records, in people’s heads, any way at all so long as it was safe, free from moths, silver-fish, rust and dry-rot, and men with matches. ~ Bradbury

A homeless man with is street sign of proclamation
The end is nigh is now worn by millions throughout the nation
It’s all a conglomerate so why bother lifting your hand to change the station
Drunk with false power the false prophet enjoys his toxic yet short lived inebriation

With his hand in the puppet he tried spewing hate filled lies
His audience was slow and large or at least not very wise
In the front row were the gnats and the back were the flies
Every time he opened his mouth more and more humanity would die

Wake up young man before the clock strikes its death knell
Watch the madman at the pulpit; search quickly for his tell
Push the buttons, don’t waste too much time or you’ll be caught in the swell
See insanities world quickly crumble; in a glass asylum he did dwell

We’ve fooled ourselves into false cultural offenses
I’ve memorized my books until the world comes to its senses
Striking the match and burn it all down for I will not lower my moral defenses
A book is a loaded gun but if used properly it can tear down many useless fences

*Inspired in part by Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451*

I’ll close out with some hope from Mr. Joe Strummer:

Joe Strummer and the Mescaleros

We are not a number or a derogatory label
Nor a made up dream and a misguided fable
We are more than people that occupy a vacant place
We are in this together; this crazy thing called that some call the human race

Some can only compartmentalize while others thrive off of being used and abused
Though the silent majority scratching their heads seem very, very confused
Nothing is wrong with this picture until it is them who are directly affected
Until that moment occurs we are laughed at and all of ours claims are rejected

We do not want to be rich; we simply want to live and to not be so poor
What we certainly do not want is to be some corporate bankers lackey or whore
Your indifference to those you look down upon will certainly be your undoing
The time of kowtowing is at an end; there will be no more subduing

I am not a number; I am but a single free man
A wrench thrown into the cog of your diabolical and sadistic master plan
Just how long did you think that your temples of greed would stand before they crumble?
Prognosticating the future, I see is the minority quickly learning how to be humble

One last time before it all gets erased:

For Those That Didn’t Make It Home

I sold my field and bought a gun
Told to fight a battle, which no one ever won
Blood ran in the water, it followed the setting sun
In the trench I sit, until this hell is done

We left our families in the name of a higher cause
Attacking with a vengeance, a pack of wolves on four paws
Men were really boys back then, beside me, they broke like straws
Freedom is in the mind my friend, not in governments controlling laws

They came home in boxes, lined up row by row
There is a field of white crosses where truly I think only grass should grow
Not in vain I say to thee but loss of life should not be quick, but very, very slow
Duty calls to some or it can be a big forced hand; either way, how were any of them know?

~BPSmith – 06/06/2009

“I got a feeling about political correctness. I hate it. It causes us to lie silently instead of saying what we think.” ~ H. Holbrook



I keep thinking of that aborted fetus. It seems to be forever burnt into my brain. The terrible irony of it all is that we live in such an over sensitive, politically correct country. We are in a time and place where I am not supposed to say, “That’s gay” or “That’s retarded”, yet I have to drive down the road and see a billboard 50 feet in the air of a dead baby. How does this equate to any form of normal?

Read more…

*When was the last time that this was true, if ever?*

You mock and you scoff those you know nothing about
The world is in the street but you say babies will scream and shout
This is what it’s like when there are no mirrors to be seen
Anything that doesn’t affect you is just dirty and unclean

I would say walk a mile but for you this would be much too far
A parasite that lives off of others while my next door neighbor now lives in his car
Sure, we let this happen to a certain extent but now we’ve awoken to set things right
Yet still you ignore us and laugh in your flawed logic that might equals right

*Hasn’t it always been?

One voice is more powerful than an army of which I am certain you can now see
Erase your inane quote because in this world freedom is in fact free
Just who are you trying to convince when you talk down at those that you actually fear?
Why is your voice quivering while at the pulpit; is it because you know your end is near?

My brand of satire posted over a year ago. Enjoy or not. But I look back an know why I wrote it and it all seems to still apply. Just a few of the faces have changed is all.

“If I lose the light of the sun, I will write by candlelight, moonlight, no light. If I lose paper and ink, I will write in blood on forgotten walls. I will write always. I will capture nights all over the world and bring them to you.” *~ *Henry Rollins

I may have a limited audience but I still have a voice.  Obviously this is mostly my fault for I do not advertise.  But if you are in advertising you should find a new line of work or maybe consider suicide by cop.  That being said, the quote above sums up nicely why people, who are writers, write: because we have to.  This isn’t some sort of lame rationalization, it is a truth. Read more…

I often wonder if people came here under false pretenses or with the misconception that this was something that it is not. It all started with a pencil and a wire bound notebook when I was in high school. From there it turned in to several volumes of notebooks and then the internet(s) became more accessible and I became less skeptical of said technology. As a side note this is very odd since I grew up in a house with a computer in it since I was about 12 years old. Sure it was just a TI-99/4A but still it was a computer nonetheless. Then I went through my anti-tech phase in the mid-1990’s and now, well now we know where we are. At least I hope we do.

See I am a writer and this isn’t a fucking blog. I have grown to hate that word: BLOG! Fuck you bloggers! (Well not all of you, just the ones in your mom’s basement writing your gay-ass fan fiction in your under-roos.) I write what ever leaks into my brain and it may not make sense at the time (even to me) but in the end it usually comes round full circle. So today we have this, a first in a while, an actual piece that is not poetry, even though my poems rock, this is more about social media and how people do not actually read the words on the screen. They browse; they peruse; they cherry pick. Am I wrong?

How are most arguments started? Well I would have to say miscommunication; a breakdown in how we perceive what the author’s intent is. In my case, it is not in fine print, it is right there, out in the open. If you do not enjoy sarcasm, mockery, satire, caustic remarks and very rarely something Panglossian irony, then you’ve come to the wrong place or lost the face of your father. Please go take yourself too seriously somewhere else. This is a refuge of humor. One of the last bastions of jocularity left in the ever shrinking world of ours. (Okay that’s a stretch put still pretty good.)

Megalomaniacal pat on the backs aside, this is a place where I talk about whatever is pissing me off. Sure it isn’t news but it is fucking funny. (Well to me and the Wookie anyway). So if you find yourself here from clicking a link that does ACTUALLY work on Facebook, this message is for you few; you sad and lonely few who just don’t seem to get it. So I will end this quickly, abruptly and almost pain free, with this quote from my goD:

“The world is like a ride in an amusement park, and when you choose to go on it you think it’s real because that’s how powerful our minds are. The ride goes up and down, around and around, it has thrills and chills, and it’s very brightly colored, and it’s very loud, and it’s fun for a while. Many people have been on the ride a long time, and they begin to wonder, “Hey, is this real, or is this just a ride?” And other people have remembered, and they come back to us and say, “Hey, don’t worry; don’t be afraid, ever, because this is just a ride.” And we … kill those people. “Shut him up! I’ve got a lot invested in this ride, shut him up! Look at my furrows of worry, look at my big bank account, and my family. This has to be real.” It’s just a ride. But we always kill the good guys who try and tell us that, you ever notice that? And let the demons run amok … But it doesn’t matter, because it’s just a ride. And we can change it any time we want. It’s only a choice. No effort, no work, no job, no savings of money. Just a simple choice, right now, between fear and love. The eyes of fear want you to put bigger locks on your doors, buy guns, close yourself off. The eyes of love instead see all of us as one. Here’s what we can do to change the world, right now, to a better ride. Take all that money we spend on weapons and defenses each year and instead spend it feeding and clothing and educating the poor of the world, which it would pay for many times over, not one human being excluded, and we could explore space, together, both inner and outer, forever, in peace.” ~ William Melvin Hicks