Wednesday, December 13, 2006


Well, there's little doubt that I'm typing this just a little bit drunk. I'm just at that point past 'damn the torpedoes' when I'm actively making sure that robert frippin' 'tolerance' has just one L in it.

Clearly, I'm not going to get any comics work done tonight. What I will get done is another post that will invariably disapoint people coming here looking for information and pictures of obscure porn stars. I'll probably also disapoint that dude looking for pictures of sexual assault victimising Barbara Gordon. I don't say this as any sort of judgement on such persons, I say this only as someone who will disapoint you. In a way, you're like my parents, ex-girlfriends, friends, employers or anyone who has gotten to know me for more than five minutes.

Bla bla bla. Right. Tolerance. I've been told by many people that I'm rather intolerant. It's one of those declarations like "you'd be a terrible father" or "why do you always have to get drunk before we have sex" that stings a bit at first, like it's an insult, but then you realize there's truth in the sentiment and incorporate it into you're personality. You wear it as a badge — albeit, a badge you might where under an overcoat. "Can I take that, sir?" "No thanks, I'm not staying long enough to tolerate you, get drunk enough to have sex with you, and have children."

'Tolerance' is kind of a four-letter word around casa de Fox. I think tolerance is an abyssmal trait. It's the bad word 'liberal' is supposed to be (liberal being a good word here). Why should any of us be tolerant? Tolerance suggests accepting traits in others you find abhorent. Excuse me, if I don't find you're abhorent traints acceptable. It's become a word describing people who will let it slide that someone else has, say, a different skin color or sexual orientation than themselves. Fuck them. Fuck the tolerant. The tolerant hate just slightly less than the intolerant. And I've got just as much time for them.

What I do have time for is a different type of tolerance. I started writing this at about 11PM. I was out drinking with some old friends I hadn't seen for a long time and we called it a night just when I was getting into my social mode. One friend (who I actually see every day) used to be the king of alcoholic tolerance. But, tonight, he told me he that if we stopped, he was ready to call it a night. What's that about? If I'm going out to drink, I want to drink. I have nothing to look forward to. I can't get any comics work done. I'm just going to stay up and write some pointless blog entry.

I was ready to go the all-outs. Let's stay out, get properly drunk, stumble home, and forget our misdeeds. Let's treat this night like the last night of our day. Let's put off the death of sleep for just a few more hours. Let's say things we'll regret and do things we can never take back. Let's get drunk. We can't do it every night, but why should we jump off the path when we've got a running start? We're still young, aren't we? Don't wave your wife, fiance or child in my face. We are not dead. Let's act like we could be at any minute. Let's embrace all these destructive tendancies for one night.

It was not to be. I was a few drinks away from beautiful madness, but everyone else knew their limits. I wavered between staying out and calling it quits, and chose to quit when the staying looked good. I wanted to keep what we had going for as long as possible. I could only do that by leaving with them. I didn't get the chance to screw up or make mistakes.

Maybe everyone I know is past that point in their lives, but I still feel like I've got quite afew mistakes left to make. I might be an intolerant bastard, but I'm finding myself most intolerant of other people's intolerance.


Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home

eXTReMe Tracker