A Cynic’s Guide to Everything
Ana Montano
Published by Ana Montano at Smashwords
Copyright 2009 Ana Montano
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Table of Contents
*1*
*Desperation*
*The Lies We Tell Ourselves*
*On Debate*
*Everything Happens for a Reason*
*Art Appreciation*
*Spectacular Fib
*A Message to Those With Eating Disorders*
*Juggling*
*I Eat Meat, Get Over It*
*Everything in Moderation*
*Lonely? Not so much*
*The Power of Words*
*Pet Peeves*
*Letting Go*
*Death Sentence*
*On Religion*
*Die-ting*
*The Great Cereal Debate*
*101
A Handful of Things to Do Before You Die*
*Political Leanings*
*Positive Reinforcement*
*Ode to Consumerism*
*The Upside of Failure*
*Embracing Your Flaws*
*The Silly Way We Use Words*
*Taking Flight*
*The Raunchy Chapter*
*Overactive Nerves*
*Aging Gracefully*
*One Tequila Two Tequila Three Tequila Floor*
*Winning at Poker for People Who Don’t Know Shit About Poker*
*Appendix*
*1*
Call me Ishmael. Just kidding, my name is Ana. I would really love it if you didn’t call me Ishmael. I’ve always wanted to write a book. So this is my attempt at doing so.
I guess I should tell you a little bit about myself, your humble guide. First and foremost, I love chocolate. If you know that about me and you use it to your advantage, you’re pretty much guaranteed to always be on my good side. Recently I’ve gotten into the habit of making s’mores several times a day. Did you know you can get 36 Hershey bars at a wholesale food store for less than twenty bucks? And if you’re wondering it’s taken me exactly a little over a month to finish the box.
I laugh in my sleep. That’s one of my favorite facts about myself because it pretty much sums up my entire life. I think that if you can find humor in even the shittiest of situations, you’re pretty much set. I manage to even find humor in my dreams. Trust me, it’s a great way to wake up.
I like teaching myself to do things. You can teach yourself almost anything that someone else can teach you. I enjoy multitasking so being teacher and student all at once keeps my life interesting. I taught myself to play guitar and a little bit of piano, though I can’t play without the note names on the keys. I own a blue violin that I bought online and hoped but never learned to play. Because that takes a little more patience than the guitar and piano, and I’m not that patient, which is just another tidbit.
Most of the things I do, I do just to show myself that I can. Like learning to juggle. Sometimes, I do it for the experience. Like shooting a gun. Sometimes I do it just to be able to tell people that I did. Writing a book is one of those things.
This book won’t really be about anything. If you’re expecting a plot, you should probably turn right around and pick up another one. There will be no conflict or drama in the ensuing pages. There definitely won’t be some big twist that provides all kinds of insight into who I am and why I think the way I do. If that’s what you’re looking for, then you might have this book confused with The Perks of Being a Wallflower. I really hate that book. So this book is just the opposite. None of that fictional fluff. Just thoughts. I have a lot of thoughts, some of which I feel are worth sharing.
One of those I had just before sitting down to write, when I was urinating in the bathroom. I went out to dinner earlier tonight like any sane social person should on a Friday night and I drank two glasses of water. I’ve been urinating every half hour since I got home. Am I the only one that wonders why it doesn’t all come out at once? I know that bladders get full and all. But where is all that water hanging out until he bladder is empty and ready to welcome another round of liquid? It always ends up feeling like I ended up expelling a lot more than I drank in the first place.
But like I said, this is my attempt at penning a book. A book about nothing.
Originally I wanted to make one of those novelty books like that one where each page tells you different ways to destroy it or those books about funny things to put on cats. But I’m not that creative and much better with words. I thought about writing a spy thriller or a murder mystery but I don’t know that I could create plot and not come to hate it. So I settled on writing down random thoughts and seeing where it leads me. I feel like this is much more suited for me because I write best about subjects I am passionate about. And nothing inspires more passion than anger.
And hey, if you want to make this book something cool and interesting you can tell your friends about, feel free to stick some postage on it and mail it to the Chinese embassy. I’ll look forward to lots of angry mail I can’t understand.
As I was saying, a lot of things piss me off. And I don’t want to come off as a really hateful person who needs anger management. In life, I’m actually really laid back all the time. There isn’t much that can rile me up or shock me and for the most part I’m indifferent about everything. I am perpetually in the gray area. That’s because most of the time, I can see both sides to every coin. On the off day that I do get pissed off about something, I can usually write it down and forget about it. A lot of that stuff, I intend to discuss in this book. Everything from controversial social issues to mundane everyday things that I feel are worth thinking about. Just thoughts.
As of this sentence, I don’t really know where my thoughts intend to take me. Thus, neither do you. But you’re welcome to join me in finding out.
If I’m to be perfectly frank, I have other reasons for wanting to write a book. One of them is that I hope to make a career as a writer despite the fact that I’ve never studied English or Journalism. I write for a local paper as a hobby and I’m writing this book for fun. Aside from the fact that many people end up with weird careers that had nothing to do with their education, I feel like a career in writing will either happen or it won’t.
You can teach a person grammar and spelling, but you can’t teach them to cleverly string words together to make them readable. A lot of people who study journalism unfortunately can’t write for shit and that shiny little degree isn’t going to help them get a job if their portfolio sounds like someone in middle school wrote it. I happen to know quite a few people who study writing and have no talent. I almost feel bad for these people. It’s a shame to really love something that you’re not very good at. That’s why I think everyone should be conscious of their strengths and weaknesses.
That’s what I tell myself so I don’t feel guilty about not studying writing, which is one of the only things I can see myself doing in the future. It’s a defense mechanism. I studied psychology instead. Also, I absolutely abhor English classes. I find analyzing literature more painful than getting a bikini wax.
As a writer, it offends me that teachers make their students try to infer the author’s mood and intent in any written work. Sure, sometimes you might be right. But you can never really know for sure. In the end, you’re just assuming and assumptions are foolish. Sometimes writers write multilayered works of art and deciphering those can be very satisfying. But when you have to really reach in order to give meaning to something that’s shallower than a kiddie pool, you’re making a mockery of literature. Some things are meant to be taken at face value.
I hope you realize that my writings fall into this category. If I have something to say, I’ll come out and say it. I don’t have to disguise it with flowery literary devices; a pretentious undertone cloaked in wordy adjectives and vivid imagery. Best metaphor I could come up with on the spot. Ah yes the metaphor, differing from its sister, the simile, only by the lack of “like” or “as.” Thank you, 10th grade English class. Your wisdom, I use randomly and sparingly.
You know what bothers me? Why is passive voice so frowned upon? I happen to like using passive voice. I can’t tell you how frustrating it is when I see a green squiggly line under a sentence that I see nothing wrong with. Then my Word Processor condescendingly suggests that I should consider revising. Should I, computer? No, thank you. Passive voice is perfectly understood by those for whom I write.
Dammit, you’ll have to excuse me while I once again empty my bladder.
Now, where were we…
Ah, yes. We were discussing literature. I used to love to read. When I was much younger, I read everything from Stephen King to Shakespeare, a bit wordy that one. I was so proud of myself the first time I read a book that had more than 1000 pages, and then I went on to read many others. Maybe it was the fact that I was so eager to learn the language. See, I was born on a little communist island in the Caribbean so Spanish, not English, was my first language. Maybe the novelty just wore off.
In any case, then came high school. I haven’t been the same since I was forced to read Heart of Darkness and analyze every single sentence of The Scarlet Letter. Reading just lost its fun. This is a common psychological effect that occurs when something you enjoyed doing for its own sake-in this case, reading- is suddenly extrinsically reinforced- in this case, by grades. When the extrinsic motivation is taken away, you no longer want to do that thing you used to love.
I’m full of all sorts of useless bits of information like that. Of course, it’s only useless if you don’t put it to good use. If you’re a parent, this can be an important tool in teaching your children to do their chores or their homework. Now you know that you shouldn’t reward your kids with video games and sweets just because they finished making their bed. Let the accomplishment speak for itself. How are you going to make your kid like cleaning their room or math in the first place? Beats me. Good luck with that.
As I was saying, the reading situation worsened when I went to college and had to read textbooks regularly. What a crime. As a result, the last book I read was the final Harry Potter, and that’s only because I had already committed to the series.
So kudos to you, reader, for I no longer have the desire to read that you obviously still do.
If you’ve gotten this far, maybe this book is for you. You might be my kind of person and I might be yours. Oh, and I hope you picked up on the Seinfeld reference.
*Desperation*
If I decide to extend my education someday, I’ll probably end up getting a PhD in Psychology. I don’t intend to use it but I like the idea of being called Doctor for no reason at all. If I published a book post graduation, people would consider me an expert. The absurdity of this cracks me up.
I studied the subject because I think it’s really interesting. But I realized very early on that I could never be a psychologist. People piss me off to no end. The prospect of helping individuals cope with stress and trauma and mental illness sounds great on paper, but so do a lot of things that don’t exactly pan out in practice, like the Segway.
I know that if I had to spend every single one of my work days listening to rich people bitch about stupid insignificant fake problems, I would end up shooting myself in the face. At the very least, I would have to ask them to. That’s probably the biggest problem with therapy. The people who can afford it aren’t even the ones who need it most.
Everyone’s problems seem big and insurmountable to them. But I’m a very big picture kind of person. I can’t fathom stressing out over such unimportant things like a little fight with a friend or some professional stress when there are people in the world who have nothing to feed their children, much less eat, themselves.
Not to mention, all this global warming talk is making me really indifferent about my future. I live in Miami, when North America starts sinking, were going to be the first to go. Who cares if I don’t have a stable job? What I really need is a floating device.
So it just seems to me that if I had to listen to people bitch and whine all day, I would be pretty miserable. Because when you really think about it, a therapist is nothing but a person you pay to yell at. I mean, don’t you have anything better to do with your money? If I could afford therapy, I would be backpacking through Europe having all sorts of personal breakthroughs.
In any case, I would make a damn good therapist. I’ve understood people very well since I was very young. I think it’s mostly a result of the fact that I think so rationally. Even when people try to hide their feelings, it’s always been easy for me to see what their true emotions and intentions are. And I don’t think this is some sort of special talent. I think it’s something everyone could do if they just used their common sense and allowed themselves to think without letting emotions get wrapped up in it, even for a second.
I was talking to a friend earlier who is reading that book, He’s Just Not That Into You. I think it’s a little sad that women need a book like that which just hammers over and over something that should be common sense to everyone. It’s the same with all self help books. They’re always redundant and condescending and in the end nothing but logic. It’s a little offensive that people are getting rich by telling others something they all know and are in denial about. He didn’t call? Poor you. Do you really need a book to tell you he’s not interested? Are people really this oblivious? The answer is a resounding, YES!
And let’s be fair. The same book might as well be available with all the gender pronouns switched because guys are the same. Even though we usually get the bad rap for being the desperate, needy ones, that doesn’t mean it’s any less evident or abundant in the male species.
I’ll admit, when I’m not interested, I take the guy way out. I won’t pick up phone calls or return messages. Or I’ll make up an excuse as to why I can’t go out. It sounds mean but I see it as the equivalent of not calling a girl back after you sleep with her. Though, in my experience that never actually happens. They always call which is really obnoxious. I’ve never had someone ask me for my number and not call, sometimes repeatedly even after I express no interest whatsoever. And I feel like this is also true for most of the girls I know.
Ripping and dipping, as they say, is a myth. They always come back to dip again.
I don’t understand why it takes so long for them to catch on. If we liked you, we would probably be blowing your cell up after that first call. Doesn’t it make you feel pathetic to call and constantly get turned down or worse, be completely ignored? For the life of me, I can’t understand what gives someone the desire to keep trying.
To avoid this altogether, I employ the meanest little trick. This is definitely cunty and I don’t advise anyone to try it at home. A lot of people give out fake numbers or the number to the rejection hotline, etc. The number I give out…well, it’s just mean.
See, when I first got my cell phone, my best friend and I were chatting online when I told her to call me so I could hear my ringtone. Five minutes later she called me with an interesting story. She had switched the last two numbers by mistake and when another woman picked up she asked for me only to find her name was also Ana. Confusion ensued for her and for my doppelganger.
I think you know where I’m going with this. When I don’t even want to go through the trouble of avoiding a gentleman caller the next morning, I give out that other Ana’s number. In my defense, I have a bad memory and in these cases I’m usually drunk. The easiest thing for me to do in that situation is switch those last two numbers. I feel like if I tried to come up with a fake number on the spot, I would end up saying six numbers instead of seven.
Another awesome perk about this is that some people like to call you right in front of you, “So you’ll have my number, too.” Read: So I know for sure you didn’t give me a fake one. In these cases, I can quite honestly say that the last two numbers were simply switched and they are none the wiser. Also, not often, but once in a blue moon, it’s the kind of decision that I make so last minute that I have to wait until I recite those last two numbers.
I feel bad for those guys and the awkward conversations they must have had with that other Ana who had no memory of them. But most of all, I feel bad for her. Sorry for the creepy guys who I flashed and made out with at Mardi Gras, the nerdy guy who was not a good kisser, all the dudes that have enjoyed grinding up on my ass while I’m trying to dance with my friends and that annoying kid from anatomy class, who have all since harassed you. And if you happen to be reading this and you know what I’m talking about, feel free to give me a call and tell me to go fuck myself. All you gotta do is switch the last two numbers.
What I’m trying to get at is, desperation doesn’t look good on anyone. I know it might seem like you have to call a girl a thousand times so that she’ll pay you any attention or that you have to sleep with a guy you met at the bar to get a boyfriend. But if you pulled your lonely little head out of your ass for two seconds and used common sense you would see that you’re just being desperate and it’s pathetic. No one finds that attractive, not even other desperate people.
It sucks to see a friend get broken up about a guy who couldn’t care less whether or not she was around. Or to see people continue dating their significant others who have cheated on them repeatedly or just generally treat them like crap for no reason. And everyone says that it’s different when you’re in that situation. You want to give people the benefit of the doubt. Or you think your friends are being harsh and judgmental when they tell you could do better. But I know first hand that everyone is capable of separating themselves from their situation long enough to see the truth staring them in the face. They just don’t want to. And making excuses for other people is the ultimate form of desperation.
The problem is that people become addicted to lying to themselves. It’s easier to make up an excuse for another person’s behavior than to face the music.
On a completely unrelated note, you know those search helicopters just fly over your house every once in a while with a giant spotlight looking for some runaway truant? I wonder if anyone has ever tried to fool the helicopter. Could you get away with sitting in some strange terrace like you belong there? I mean, I’m sure the people on the helicopter are looking for the guy jumping over a fence or racing through a backyard. So it would make the most sense to pretend you live there, maybe water some plants. See…common sense is useful for every lifestyle.
*The Lies We Tell Ourselves*
Whoever said, “The grass is always greener on the other side” really had people pegged. That catchy little proverb should be the tagline for humanity. Here’s the thing, people are full of shit. They lie to others to make themselves seem better than they really are or to make themselves feel good about their crappy lives. And for the really spectacularly miserable ones, they lie to themselves because it’s easier to tell a lie if you believe it. You’ll find that lying fascinates me. I’ve met so many people that just make stuff up. How do people do that?
My theory is that most people like to have things to complain about and self deception facilitates this. People like to have a big drama or some cause that they’re wrapped up in. One of the most ridiculous laments is somewhere in the vein of “I want a normal life” or “I just want to be like everyone else.” What an absurd thing to say. What kind of extraordinary life do you think you have? And more importantly, what a huge lie that is.
There are many kinds of lies about life but none biggest or more false than that one. First of all, who the hell is in charge of deciding what normal means? I suppose the stereotypical definition of “normal” is a house with a picket fence in the suburbs, a loving spouse and 2.5 kids. Of course, if you take normal to mean the most common, you’re looking at a single family home with fucked up ideals, busting your ass at a dead end job and kids that were probably an accident and most likely hate you. And on a grander scale still, normal means starvation and rampant disease. None of these sound very appealing to me, and if you ask anyone they would probably agree.
So why does everyone want “a normal life”? Because that’s just a lie we tell ourselves to make up for the fact that we don’t have the exciting life we wish we did. In life, there’s an honesty curve. People are most honest when they’re kids. As you age, you lose the purity and innocence and you realize that the only way to make it in the world is to lie, to yourself and to others. After all, the best liars are the ones who believe their lies. Of course, as the aging process continues, you start to give less and less of a fuck and you become more honest again. If you’re knocking on death’s door, might as well go out with guns blazing. That’s why no one likes old people. They’re not afraid to tell you you’ve gained a little weight and you don’t want to hear it. But I digress.
Keeping the curve in mind, think back to your childhood. Every little boy and girl wanted to be famous and rich, an astronaut and the president. That’s not normal; it’s greatness. It’s excellence. It’s exception. It’s different and special. It sets you apart in some vital way and makes you better than your peers. This is the time in your life when you’re truly honest with yourself about your life goals and aspirations. Naturally, you grew old and you realized it’s never going to happen. You realized you’re too short to be a model or too stupid to be a rocket scientist. Around this time, the only thing you can do in order to be happy is to lower your standards.
So you create the big lie. This can go one of two ways. The first is making yourself think that you already are exceptional. Your parents are divorced and your daddy doesn’t pay you enough attention. You belong to (insert religious, ethnic, or otherwise minority group here) and you’ve faced all sorts of adversity. And dammit, that makes you special. And more importantly, it makes you realize that being exceptional isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. It makes you wish you were just like everyone else, because naturally, it’s all sunflowers and rainbows on the normal people’s grass.
That’s why teenagers are such a pain in the ass. That’s when they realize they’re never going to be extraordinary in any good way, so they blow out of proportion every little detail of their life to get attention. It’s worse at this age because that’s when reality starts to sink in and before this self delusion gets set at socially accepted levels. This isn’t always true. Some people never adjust or lose their mind from the shock.
The second way that this reality check manifests itself is in accepting the fact that your life will never be anything but normal and pretending you’re okay with that. It sounds cynical but I guarantee you that no one who dreamed of being a lawyer and ended up being a restaurant manager is truly happy. And no one who imagined a long loving marriage and ended up twice divorced and alone is happy either. You can try to pretend. And that’s not to say that you can’t find happiness working any particular job or if you die without a family. But even if you’ve found contentment in your life, you’ll always have that sense of missed opportunity and of not being able to fulfill your life goals.
So you tell people that a normal life is all you ever want, when in reality it’s all you’ve ever had. And other people buy it. Because to question this lie would force them to re-evaluate their own lie. Truly happy people believe the lie themselves. The not so happy people secretly wish they were exceptional, but don’t talk about it. And the people who outwardly express this desire are usually deemed crazy. They disturb the balance of bullshit that holds society together.
So now you’re wondering, what about people that do have extraordinary lives? They are few and far between but we need someone to act in movies and walk on the moon. You might be thinking, these people don’t have to lie. But they do. Any club hopping socialite will tell you that they just want a normal life. Still not true. But when you’re in the public eye, you’ll say anything to appear relatable. But like I was saying, the grass is always greener, so a few of the exceptional ones do wish they had a normal life. Mostly because it gives them something to complain about.
Complaining is one of the most universal and most loved forms of communication. Even the most mundane and boring people find something to complain about: the thing that makes them that much more different from other people. The thing that makes them wish they just had a normal life.
I don’t adhere to these social norms. I don’t wish for a normal life. A normal life is what I have. My life is boring and routine and I’m not afraid to admit that I wish it wasn’t. I wish I were extraordinary. I want to do something important and be known for it. I want people to look up to me and I want greatness. And I know that the first step to getting there is to admit it. So I hereby break myself free from these chains of delusion. You know what, I want more. The grass looks greener over there. I accept the fact that when I get there, I’ll probably take up complaining about how all I want is to be back on this grass and I’m okay with that. And who knows? Maybe in the spirit of honesty, I’ll sit and drink champagne and celebrate having cured cancer while I give an interview to Barbra Walters and proudly proclaim, “This is the life!” And I know that I’m nowhere near that because I have one of those “normal lives.” But I plan to work to change that, even though I know it probably won’t get me anywhere.
You should do the same. You have to give up on the notion that your life is anything but ordinary. Everybody has problems. I know it’s nice to have something to bitch about and that pity can be addicting. But get over it. I know the prospect of accepting that your life is nothing to write home about sounds depressing. But it’s not. It’s freeing. It makes you driven and people that have drive are happy. Even if you never attain your goal, you’ll be able to say that you gave it your all and in the end, that’s all that matters. That’s the difference between a normal life and an extraordinary one. God, I should be a motivational speaker.
You know what, all that excitement was exhausting. It kinda made me realize that I’m pretty happy sitting on my couch and watching Vh1. Maybe a normal life ain’t so bad, after all.
*On Debate*
I love a good debate. How boring would life be if everyone just agreed with you all the time? Differing opinions encourages all kinds of stimulating intellectual conversation. It allows for the flow of knowledge and sharing of ideals. When you share every opinion with someone, or when you pretend to, as is usually the case, there is nothing to be earned. It’s no wonder they say that opposites attract.* And nothing is more attractive than getting together and ripping each other’s belief into shreds.
*Research has shown this statement to be false, actually. People who share values and interests actually tend to form better bonds than those who do not. This is one of those pop psych statements that’s well known and frequently used, like the opposite but scientifically supported, “Birds of a feather flock together.”
In the spirit of good debate, I feel it necessary to point out some good guidelines for participating in (and more importantly winning) healthy and smart debate without pissing off your friends and colleagues Because unfortunately, debate is one of the better things in life that has the tendency to go wrong. It’s like soufflé.
The first and most important rule is that you should only partake in these intellectual head-to-heads if you know what you’re talking about. There is nothing worse than trying to have a discussion with someone who has no idea what they’re talking about. This is good life rule in general.
Intelligent and mature people stay quiet and listen when they are unfamiliar with the discussion topic. It is a mark of unrelenting stupidity not to. I would never engage anyone in an argument about Burmese culture. You have to know your limits.
In the event that you got yourself into a debate about something you realized too late you’re ignorant about, back off gracefully. A lot of people think there’s shame in losing. But bowing out and admitting that the other side had some really good points and that you don’t have any better arguments makes you the bigger person. Most debates have no winning side, you either agree or disagree. In those cases, being the one to call it quits makes you the winner.
Assuming both parties are well informed in said discussion topic, debate can begin. Let me start off by saying that the best way to win a debate is to disarm the other side. And it’s good to be open minded in general, but especially when you’re trying to argue a point because you want to bring up their strongest arguments before they do, especially if you have good counterpoints.
Whenever I talk to people about abortion, I open with “I could never get an abortion myself, but…” How’s the Bible-thumping old woman going to respond to that without sounding wrong?
If you agree with any of the other side’s ideas, a debate is the time to come out with it. When you show that you’re open minded, you encourage others to open up, too. Maybe even admit they think some of your ideas are pretty good, too. Do unto others is not just a religious tenet. When you treat someone like shit, they’re going to reciprocate. The same occurs when you treat people respectfully and acknowledge that they are well versed in some topic and that they can discuss it wisely.
Another common debate mistake is to think that you need to bring the other person over to your side. That is never the point of a debate! Most good debates go south because one or more of the parties start to push their agenda relentlessly and ignoring the other side. No one conversation, no matter how good, is not going to convince someone to change their religion or political affiliation.
The most you can hope for is to have someone admit defeat by begrudgingly mumble something about how they still think they’re right. And that’s something you just have to settle for. Having larger expectations is just going to cause problems.
This is probably a good time to go on a tangent to discuss how much I hate people who push their beliefs on others. I like to think that I am completely open minded when it comes to other people’s decisions. Even if I don’t agree with a certain religion or a certain lifestyle, it’s not my place to question someone else’s life decisions. I don’t expect to convert anyone to my way of thinking and I sure as hell hope that no one is trying to convert me.
There is a lot to be said for someone who can just mind their own damn business. This brings to mind one specific incident involving Jehovah’s Witnesses. These people are all about the converting. Usually, this doesn’t really affect my life. Because at the end of the day, when someone is handing out pamphlets that I’m not interested in reading, I can just ignore them and keep walking. But one of the most offensive things occurred last year on Christmas Day. As I was going to visit some family that I didn’t really care about but felt obligated to see, I saw an entire army of these people going door to door while families were opening gifts and getting ready to go to church.
It made me want to get a group of friends together and go hand out pamphlets about the benefits of abortion at their place of worship on their sacred holiday. It’s one thing to make the best of your right to free speech, but it’s another to infringe on someone else’s rights to believe whatever the fuck they want. I’m sure not all Jehovah’s Witnesses have the gall to be so heinous, though I might be wrong. But I can certainly say that I wished some horrible end befell that specific group of people. I don’t sweat it. I believe in karma, so I’m sure something did.
Back to debate. Though pushing your beliefs on other people certainly ranks on the offensive scale, it’s not the worst thing you can do when you’re trying to have a discussion with someone. Lastly, but most inflammatory, if you’re losing (and even if you’re not, hothead) don’t resort to personal attacks. I know it’s tempting when you feel so strongly about your values and opinions, to just call the other person an asshole and be done with it. But as soon as you do this, you’ve lost.
Making personal attacks or derogatory comments is usually a last resort for people who are all out of better things to say. And everyone knows it. If you do this, you confirm what everyone already suspected, that not only are you ignorant but also immature.
I’ve encountered quite a few people who feel so strongly about their opinions that they just resort to stupid remarks when they realize you feel just as strongly about the opposite side. Needless to say, I have not known these people for very long. If you can’t handle opinions different from your own, it’s better to keep your mouth shut. If spend your entire life personally insulting the people around you just because they disagree with your beliefs, you’re probably going to end up old and alone. Because as strongly as you might feel about your opinions, they’re not going to make you soup when you’re sick or take you to the doctor when you break your hip.
If you’re in a debate and you’re the person being attacked, the best thing you can do is walk away. Never stoop to their level because that makes you just as ignorant and immature as they are. As satisfying as it might feel to fight fire with fire in the moment, you’ll thank yourself later when you let your idiot friend bash you to a pulp and as a result, look like a fool.
I have a very vivid imagination. Sometimes to keep myself from saying or doing something stupid when I’m being confronted is to picture a really bloody way in which I would be murdering them. In my head, I always have a bazooka on hand, and I use it frequently. You can try this at home. It’s just as satisfying and you can be much more inventive. I’m all about turning the other cheek, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be thinking about setting you on fire while I do so.
So there are you have it. Follow these guidelines and you’ll be a master debater. Keep your cool until the other person flies off the handle or realizes you have the better argument, admit that you’re wrong and wow everybody, or end up so piss drunk arguing that you can’t even remember your name.
And remember, when in doubt, shut the fuck up!