Cast Out the Beam

It seems so inordinately difficult to be a decent human being, unless you were born that way.

I suppose some people just are? In fact I can think of one or two Goody Two Shoes who are genuinely nice people. I have to assume they were born nice since I have never seen them behave other than with a complete absence of malice.

Nice people exist and they are definitely not boring. They just don’t say horrid things and think horrid thoughts. By and large, anyway.

Why are some of us trouble makers and Wicked Pixies, even if we don’t really want to be? I don’t really mean any ill but I get intensely irritated and obsessive about people who annoy me or who I consider to be bullies.

If someone really pisses me off, they take over my mind. It’s not that I wish them any harm but I seem to need to tell them in no uncertain manner that they are plonkers. Or worse. Pigs maybe? Smarmy salesmen? Snobs?

But how objective am I being? Probably not very. By their own standards, those who annoy me in such ways are probably acting perfectly reasonably.

Is it SO terrible to suck up to people? Don’t we all perhaps do that, to some extent? Is it so terrible to to conduct minor swindles on your family, friends and neighbors? After all, evolution made this compulsory for those who are in the least bit worried about survival.

And frankly, lets face it, business is usually about swindling people. Commerce as ritualized violence.

Perhaps such people are just “getting a good deal”? Or perhaps they are in fact taking only that to which they are justly entitled and we have misinterpreted the situation.

The reality is that some of us should just hide ourselves away somewhere remote. If, as I would like, I were to be tucked up in some cabin off grid, I wouldn’t have to worry about being nice to people or worrying that I have got it wrong.

And I certainly wouldn’t have to feel guilty about calling people bullies, snobs, smarmy salesmen and the like. Unless I took against the local fauna and insulted a grisly or a wolf.

Hey, I wonder if that’s what those desert madmen were all about? The nutters who lived on pinnacles of rock in the middle of deserts? Maybe they weren’t holy men at all? Maybe they were just miserable old shytes like me who didn’t like having neighbors?

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