The Adversary in The Stuff That's Not Interesting But Is The Most Interesting Stuff I'll Write

Halloween/My birthday was nice. I spent it with Angie in the weird alternate universe that is Playa del Ray. Seriously, this is one of the strangest parts of Los Angeles I’ve ever been to simply because it’s got a bit of a strange identity crisis. If you don’t know what Playa del Ray is, it’s this little beach town south of Venice beach. The difference is, there is only one road in and out of this particular area. On one side is LAX and on the other side is wetlands. Due to the wetlands, it’s not really a “beach” area and therefore there’s no reason for big chain stores like Target or Bed Bath and Beyond. The town is filled with dive bars and odd little restaurants. The people are odd, too, with one guy I met claiming that he refuses to make friends with “anyone East of the 405” which is a freeway along the Western region of Los Angeles.

Essentially, this town thinks it is Bodega Bay. Now, I’ve spent a lot of time in Bodega Bay, and I don’t mean just watching Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds on repeat. My family used to vacation there every year (when we pretended to like one another) and I have many fond memories of the small town and beaches. Playa does have that strange quality to its streets and things like that, there’s just one problem that makes Playa completely unlike Bodega: it is inhabited by Angelenos. What’s more, they’re snooty Angelenos because they feel like they’ve found some secret club. I enjoyed my time there, but Angie is trying to get me to move to Playa when I get out of school. I’ve seen too many zombie apocalypse movies to willingly move myself into a town with only ONE road in and out.

It rained on Halloween which meant that nearly everyone thought it WAS the apocalypse. Angie’s neighbor even had a rain counter. It had been 11 months since it had rained in Playa del Ray. 11 months? Fuck that, I need rain every two months at least.

Then the power went out. Usually that would be fun, but since there is no Bed Bath and Beyond in Playa, nobody had any candles, so we all took to wandering in the streets with our lighters. Mind you, everybody is in their Halloween costumes AND they think they’re safe in the dark, so occasionally my dim firelight would cast upon something that I wasn’t necessarily supposed to see… (Did Robin have a hard-on while talking with Lydia Deetz?)

That was another thing, I find something really violent about heterosexuality.

Perhaps that’s not true. I’m just around hyper-sensitive people all the time and it’s driving me nuts. If kids in the 90s were around these 2014 kids and heard all the stupid shit that they’re whining and protesting about.... I’m sure we’d all just slap them. I’m tired of how hung-up people are getting on words and using the right definition and “whoops you’re saying it wrong, you’re a bigot” and ugh JUST SHUT UP. If you don’t like what someone is saying, stop talking to them. No one is forcing you to talk to them. Walk away.

There has become this bizarre need to regulate the minds of our adversaries. Look, I don’t need someone who thinks that I’m going to Hell to take back all of the things that they said. They can think I’m going to Hell all they want, as long as they don’t try to personally send me there by ending my life, I’m fine. This whole idea that “educating” someone will bring them out of their attitudes that are hurtful toward another is just ludicrous and actually quite dangerous. That kind of “education” is actually indoctrination.

People have tried to educate me to be more tolerant or whatever the word is (by the way, according to new lingo, “tolerant” is no longer the goal of social justice education, “affirming” is the goal), all it has done is make me more resistant to becoming tolerant.

I say a lot of unpopular things because I have beliefs that were instilled within me by very old people during a very conservative time in our country. Those beliefs have not changed, they have just become more elastic. I don’t say things to hurt people but it seems that is not enough. I have to not believe the things I want to believe in order to truly be an asset to this world.

The funeral is today. I think that’s another reason why I’m so high-strung. Part of me is extremely wary about going into a Catholic church. Our Lady of the Assumption. My my my, she assumes quite a bit, doesn’t she? I remember, when I was in high school, a cheerleader had committed suicide and there was a big controversy about whether or not the Catholic church would allow services to be held for her. I remember being enraged at the thought. It seems the Catholic church has relaxed their stance on suicide, for the moment.

I still don’t like the way everybody is parading around photos of my dead friend every chance they can in some play for sympathy.

I always deal with things privately. I don’t know how to do things with another person. Other people have only ever been my enemies. I suppose that explains a lot more about me than I’d care to go into at the moment.