Alliteration almost always annoys.
I know that lead statement doesn’t seem to mean a whole lot right now, however a little later in the very post upon which you feast your lookballs, I’m hopeful it will trigger something in you, my dear reader.
You’ll initially gloss over it, but then a minor subroutine in your reading comprehension process will trigger a pause.
You’ll ask yourself internally whether you just saw what you think you just saw.
You’ll back up a few sentences, and reread the portion of the post in question.
You’ll then confirm your suspicion, and then move on.
Allow me to say this about that ahead of time.
You’re welcome.
Looking back on my tenure as the Blogger Laureate here at TharpSter.org, there’s always been a particular theme in the point of view I’ve expressed.
In the early days of this site, it was evident in my discussion about how the Transportation Safety Administration (TSA) was implementing stepped up security procedures in the nation’s airports.
The implementation of Obamacare wasn’t far behind, and it provided plenty of bantha fodder for me to broadcast the same theme I alluded to earlier.
For those of you looking for that little something I mentioned earlier, be advised that it hasn’t happened yet.
Hang in there.
Ladies and gentlemen I am sitting here in my stroller fussing, throwing a minor tantrum, and demanding my freedom with every ounce of my being and every Oxford comma I can muster.
I take a stand on any issue based on how it affects our freedom. If it encourages freedom, I’m probably going to be all for it.
Otherwise, not so much.
There’s an insidious trend which has developed in corporate ‘Merica in recent years which continues to reinforce my gratitude for being generally at the end of my career in a cubicle. Within the next ten to fifteen years, I will leave that life and pursue entrepreneurial aspirations of selling ‘No Soliciting’ signs door to door.
Prior to that exodus and launch of my encore career, I have to participate in the company ‘Diversity, Equity, & Inclusion’ program in order to show the powers that be and signers of my paycheck that I’m actively fighting the monsters under the bed.
I’m not really interested in describing the program here, because it would bore you to read it, and kill me to write it. The only reason I bring it up is because someone made the mistake of ‘including’ me in a discussion recently at a family get together where we feasted on Nachos to celebrate what the woke cult would characterize as ‘Birthing Person’s Day‘.
“So Randy, is there talk of when you’ll return to the office yet?”
“Looks like it’s going to be October.” I responded as I gobbled globules of green Guacamole-laden Nachos from the plate before me.
The fellow X-er, who has fallen prey to my verbal dexterity before, who hasn’t really figured out a lot of the stuff I utter in her presence is designed to trigger her and possibly others, continued the mistake of including me.
“….and are they going to require you to show proof that you’ve been vaccinated?”
That particular question spoke volumes. She and her husband are small business owners. I wonder if she had put that same requirement on her own employees.
But that’s not the only thing to consider.
The thought of employers requiring proof of vaccination from their employees is a totalitarian one. On a personal level, it’s sad that I have a hard time putting that mindset past the person that asked me that question. In the grand scheme of things, it returns me to my stroller, fussing, throwing a minor tantrum, and demanding my freedom with every ounce of my being and every Oxford comma I can muster.
I didn’t respond with that particular rant for two different reasons.
First of all, it was too direct and confrontational.
To respond that way would have made her attempts to trigger me successful, and give her the upper hand in the ensuing discussion. Besides, it was Birthing Persons Day, and such discourse would have been disrespectful to the spirit of the event in which we gathered to consume Nachos.
The other reason I didn’t respond that way was because of the Nachos.
Ladies and gentlemen, if you get into a moment of intense fellowship while consuming Nachos, you’re creating a neural pathway that associates one of God’s most perfect foods with a heated argument.
Don’t do that unless you want to retrieve unpleasant memories every time you slather up a chip.
Instead, I responded in a manner which brought into question the validity of vaccine passports and the premise that they should be incorporated, used, and otherwise required.
“Oh they [my employer] aren’t doing any of that crap.” I then introduced another tortilla chip adorned with Guacamole and all the other good stuff to the same pie hole which had just subtly prompted a change in subject to something a little less controversial.
Someone coughed.
Another emoted audibly at a low volume.
The otherwise awkward silence I had just created was just about as delicious as lunch.
The discussion was then over and other topics were introduced. Certainly my sparring partner could have questioned my reference to the subject matter as ‘crap’, but she opted not to. Either she had just been reminded why I didn’t need to be included in any conversation whatsoever, or cognitive dissonance had put her tongue into a state of suspended animation.
And so with that ladies and gentlemen, I’ll bring this one to a close with a quick summary.
On Mother’s Day, I went to a family gathering and participated in the consumption of Nachos. In the process, I won an argument by stopping it before it could start, while at the same time preserving my stance that Freedom is always the better approach.
For those who were paying attention, annoying alliteration also appeared.
