It's A Slippery Slope

Here’s another phrase I can’t stand.

If I’ve gotten suckered into a debate (there happens to be several people in my life who love a good rousing debate) and someone says “its a slippery slope” as a justification for their argument, as far as I’m concerned the conversation is over. Because now we are just talking in absurdities. And instead of getting dragged into a reasonable debate about relevant and important subjects (which I don’t always mind), now I’m having a hypothetical argument about ridiculous and non-existant situations where anything we say has no bearing on reality or the actual argument itself. (This is what I call “quibbling” - which is just argument for argument’s sake. Don’t even bother; there are better ways to spend my time.)

I find this statement comes up a lot when discussing something like gay marriage, or legalizing marijuana.

“It’s a slippery slope. If we let a man marry a man, what next? What if he wants to marry his horse?Are you gonna let a man marry a horse (cow, sheep, its almost always a farm animal)?” Nobody mentioned farm animals. Nobody is talking about farm animals. Well, except you. Do you want to marry a horse? The argument is not whether or not it would be appropriate for that farmer to marry Babe. We are talking about two human beings, who want to commit to sharing their lives with each other in marriage and everything that entails.

If someone says “it’s a slippery slope” there really isn’t a response I can come up with that isn’t sarcastic. And I’m sure there are goat-marrying crackpots out there, but that’s not really the point. I bet when African Americans were finally allowed to vote somebody warned that it was gonna be a slippery slope. “If we let Black people vote, what next? Women??!” (While we’re here I’ll just mention that Blacks in Canada were seen as persons and given the right to vote 1837, whereas women did not get that consideration until 1929 – almost 100 years later; in the U.S it was 1870 and 1920 respectively). And I’m sure people were crying, “What next? Are we going to let my dog vote now?!”

When you insert “slippery slope” into a reasonable argument you’re suggesting that by even considering it we are all going to lose it completely. As if opening your mind to new concepts will result in a complete and utter loss of all reason and rational thought. Debating with people like that is a slippery slope too - towards futility.

I Would Have Done That

Over the last decade I have had a lot of housemates. I have had some wonderful, amazing housemates with whom I have forged tight bonds and still am close friends with to this day. I have also had roommates from hell. I could start a whole other blog called “Roommates From Hell” and fill it with outrageous anecdotes. I’ve lived with a lot of people who “would have” cleaned the bathroom, or “would have” thrown out their garbage. I lived with one roommate who I can only assume was doing a study on the breeding habits of the millipedes who took up residence under his plates in the kitchen, otherwise he “would have” done the dishes. Home is not the only place I hear this useless and ridiculous sentiment, but it is where I learned to loathe it.

I am expecting somebody to do something. They tell me they will do it. I wait and wait for them to do it. I finally do it for them. Then they come in and see it is done, or see me doing it, and say “Oh, you didn’t have to do that, I would have.”

No. Who are you lying to – me or yourself? If you were actually going to do it then you would have done it. You were given plenty of time to do it, and I know that because I didn’t want to do it and was putting it off hoping you would eventually get around to it. And if you really feel bad that I ended up doing it, how is saying “I would have done that” supposed to make anybody feel better? “Oh, really? Well in that case, thank you so much! Your good intentions made the work a breeze!”

As a good friend of mine likes to say – don’t piss on my shoes and tell me its raining. How about next time, spare me the bullshit and just get it done.

Close Talkers

I knew this girl in high-school who was what you could call a "close-talker." Except in addition to that, she would hold my wrist with her bony claw fingers while she was talking. I would back up and she would move closer, until eventually I was practically pinned against a locker. Still makes me shudder to this day. I can't remember my Woodshop teacher's name but he was a close talker too. And a yeller. One time he was yelling in my face about something - although I can't remember what - and suddenly he stopped and asked if I had pizza for lunch. Then he said "Oh no wait, that was me." Ugh!

Recently there has been a new close-talker in my life. I back up and he moves closer. We go about this little close-talking dance until finally I can wriggle myself out of the conversation. Once, we started the conversation on opposite sides of the desk. Feeling safe, I engaged him in a longer conversation then usual, until I noticed he was slowly moving closer. Eventually he, very slowly, made his way around the desk until he was actually standing over me in the chair! I realize in his case it might be a hearing issue so I always let it slide.

I may have a slighter larger personal comfort zone than most people; my "bubble" extends probably about two or three feet in each direction. But I honestly don't think we need to be able to smell eachother's breath in order to have a conversation. Blech! There just doesn't seem to be a polite way to tell someone, who genuinely wants to spend some time and have a conversation with me, to back the hell up.

It won't let me embed the video but here's the YouTube link for the Seinfeld clip:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NGVSIkEi3mM

you know what REALLY grinds my gears?

... that I don't even have time to write a fun little blog about what grinds my gears.

New post hopefully up later today

RAWWRR! RAGE MONSTER!!!

I hate pretty much everyone and everything today. I feel over-worked and under-appreciated and I just want to go to the gym and sweat it out a bit then curl up in my bed and watch Disney classics to sooth my soul which of course I obviously can't do because I never get to do anything I want to do. I can't even get a spare freakin second to eat some breakfast (in this case - a chicken burger from Wendy's because I am also battling a Hunger Monster)