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Monday, June 03, 2019

I'm Special Dammit!

Recently, I was watching a video on YouTube, because, where else would you watch them, right? The guy in the video, I have no idea who he is, was talking about the recent fetish for the exotic the retards are going through in their overweening need to be seen as special and... exotic.

I remember, back in the 90s, when they brought the self-esteem curriculum to most kids, so many people predicted this very thing. We predicted that if you convinced a child that they are special, then everyone is special. The thing is, kids want to stand out and above. They want to be seen as good and heroic. I don't remember a single kid I knew growing up wanting to be wallpaper and ignored by everyone else. Not even myself. No, we all want to be the star of the recital, have the lead in the class play, be first chair in the band or orchestra.

Children are inherently competitive. I know I was. I channeled my competitive energies into ice skating, bike riding and playing baseball. I wanted to stand out, be special, and achieve things that would make people look at me in a favorable light. I loved being the smartest kid in the class. I loved reading books and also spending most of my time outside playing with the kids around me, getting into trouble and just being a kid.

If you look at things like Tumblr, and I highly recommend you don't, it's worse than Twitter, you see people trying to be more and more exotic, more and more special. They want to be unique and yet just like everyone else.

I remember, my niece remarked about Hot Topic denizens. Goths. They swore they were all individuals and despised conformity and yet, they all dressed and looked the same. It was an apt observation for a girl that was, at that time, still in high school. She just recently received her Masters right after delivering a new baby so, that girl has it going on. She's awesome.

So, in addendum to my message that "Maybe You're Just Wrong", I would like to say that, you're not special. With the proviso that no one really cares.

Harsh, right? I'm sorry for damaging your calm. But, on top of being just wrong about everything, no one cares about you at all and there is nothing about you that makes people notice you. Not your blue hair, your overweight heft, your piercings or tattoos. Nope, you look just like everyone else you hang with. And none of you are special. Not a single one. No matter how you scream and cry, whine and whinge. I'm sorry. Life is cruel. For everyone.

Look, I know you have carefully cultivated your image. I can appreciate that. It's got to be pretty harrowing watching hours of obscure Japanese anime (subs not dubs, right). You can name the rarest microbrew at your favorite bar and will brag, endlessly, about how you ate scorpions while in China. Just an aside, they do that as a joke for tourists and laugh their asses off. You know, just FYI.

So, you wander off to Tumblr, sometimes in the Naughties and Tweens and decide that being a Furry just isn't good enough. You're young, full of angst and dammit you are something not yet seen in this world. So you decide you're Dragonkin, wolfkin, or the Extra-Special... Otherkin. No one can pin you down, that's how freakin' unique you are. They don't even have a category for what you are.

So you go with your bad self. You can be the LLGTBQWTFEVER Otherkin, Wolfkin, Dragonkin, Catkin special snowflake, Pumpkin. Just know that everyone else is looking and laughing their asses off.

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