I don’t have much time to read Substacks.
In fact I am behind about a week on the fitness post (because even when I fail, I fail properly, dammit!) but substack is one I find myself reading more regularly.
And this particular one is good too , so enjoy it. But one thing she said in it sparked a whole other aspect of life for me:
Lesson Two: Your gut trumps manners
Few lines have stuck with me as violently as the last lines of Speak No Evil:
Bjorn: Why are you doing this?
Patrick: Because you let me.
There is a step before that as a man. I mean the step before you become rude for the purpose of safety.
And it’s you become rude immediately as soon as someone disrespects you.
I have often been thought of as unreasonably and at times aggressively rude. But it’s not the actual case. The reality is the world is full of rude, stupid, and ignorant assholes. And it’s become that way because weak, lilly-livered cowards allowed it to become so.
And I don’t mean the overt rudeness. Sometimes that’s just downright funny. Or partially understandable. Maybe the guy just had a bad day. I mean the more subtle passive aggressive, metrosexual-effemminate, plausible deniability type of underhanded shitty behaviour designed to ruin your mood.
Well, fucker, try that shit at me and I will spoil your whole fucking day. Right in your face. Or in any case escalate the rudeness myself in the same way to a degree you will not like.
Serve me the drink, cold, late, and with a scowl? Well, fuck you, you’ll make it again cause this one is cold. And then again cause you put just too much coffee in my cappuccino. And maybe the third time just as you’re bringing it over I don’t see you and you end up wearing it. So sorry.
And guess what.
Very few people actually take it any further. And of course, if they want to try, well, go on.
See, I’m not worried about vampires. Cause the Jehova’s witnesses that tried to enter my property to peddle their heresy by trying to make small talk first were met with a solid:
“What do you want and who are you?”
And when they tried to brush that off by commenting on the nice property it became shorter and harsher:
“What do you want?”
They didn’t finish the third word of their answer before being told: “Go. Go away.”
Which they did, swiftly. Maybe the fact I had an honest to God reaper style scythe in my hand helped, I don’t know, but the point is, while my wife or daughter might feel embarrassed by the rude husband and father they have, I felt perfectly at ease with telling them to leave and if I had any irritation it was only that telling them to fuck off would have upset my erroneously polite family members.
What on God’s Earth gives these cultish peddlers of misery and lies any right or justification for entering my plot of land uninvited? To my mind I would have been within my right to horsewhip them to get them out of my sight faster.
It’s not about being aggressive, or violent, or toxic. And it’s not about ego, or dick size, or whatever else the neutereds imagine.
It’s about a very simple thing.
Basic respect. In feudal Japan you could literally lose your head over being impolite to the wrong person. And guess what. It’s a pretty ordered and polite society, is it not?
Is it a sad reflection of humanity that the stick works far better, faster and more effectively than the carrot? Certainly.
But I didn’t make the rules. I just know what works to enforce them.
And so should all men who haven’t traded their testicles for a subscription to a VR headset with 3D porn 24/7. Or whatever y’all are doing out there on this gay Earth.
So that’s my positive thought for the day. You’re welcome.
This post was originally published on my Substack. Link here
