Monday, September 26th 2016 – 8:42 am
Apparently the Lord hath called me unto thee, both to educate as well as inspire. Are you ready?
Tough.
Here we go.
If you genuinely care about a person’s wellbeing, you will ask about it directly to them.
Go ahead and try to navigate that hidden parable, Copernicus. I bet you can’t.
Around 1995, the Greatest Generation (probably not) globally introduced a couple new creepy, almost sci-fi technologies called “Texting” and “Email”. Follow with me on this for a second.
They added them right alongside the already ubiquitous “Telephone”, which is Latin for “throw your voice” (probably not). You know, that ringy-talkie thing we have each had at least one of in our homes since literally before any of us were born.
(Yes, even you, Aunt Mildred. I Googled it to make sure. Just stop! Quit faxing and mailing me postcards arguing with me about it!)
Also, there are now only about four people left on the entire globe (three in North Korea) without one of these groovy texting/emailing/walkie-talkie, rootie-tootie, point and shootie smartphones.
In fact, you each have one in your hot little hands or in your Hot little Pockets (especially Galaxy Note 7s), literally at all times. Even when you’re pooping. You’re reading these very words on yours, Ding-Dong.
Pretty sure this is my first and I hope my last entry that contains the word “pooping”. And probably Copernicus.
Guess what this all means?
It means that if you can only ask how someone is doing by asking through someone else, you are less concerned about them as you are about gossiping and about judging them.
I hate to “socially profile” you, but I can already picture your outfit and how and where you spend half of your weekends. Adding an “amen” at the end of your gossip and judging is not impressing God even nearly as much as it impresses you. I promise. Wait ’til He chats with you about it!
I love Jesus too, I assure you. But if your support for those suffering chronic pain or mental illness is to ask them if they tried to “cheer up” or “rejoice” or to “just not be sick”, take that useless, broccoli stained pucker hole under your nose and jam it shut. Just cram that smelly Twinkie masher as tight as you can. And keep it that way until your last gasping breath barely squeezes out one or both of your nostrils. We’ll wait.
You are literally the problem.
If you are ignorant and choose to stay that way, you contribute to the most damaging part of all human stigma and the perpetuation of trauma and suffering in the world.
Go ahead and read that again. I dare you.
If this is you, then you’re not one of the Useful Ones and likely never have been. Someone had to be picked for the group that simply makes things worse in the world. It looks like you received and continue to proudly brandish one of their patented shovels.
If you do not care enough about an individual or group to talk directly to them and ask them to help you learn more about their suffering or their disparate and desperate experience, then you’ve done nothing to better the world. I hope you at the very least enjoyed some overpriced food or poorly written movies along the way before someone had to be paid to wipe your ass.
And if you think this post is about me, Carly, then you are almost certainly one of the ones that God hath called to read this. This was actually inspired by talking for hours with several of my dearest friends and what they have been going though for many more years than me. And they daily do it with far more grace than I will ever have.
If you have a problem with this, lovingly Delete yourself from my lurker list and don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out. I’m hoping that I will at least stunt the growth and reproduction cycle of a handful of you flies with this vinegar.
The other stuff doesn’t work on you anymore.
Ok, guys! Grown up time is over! Yay!
Go back to pretending you can change the world by your bitching about Trump and Hillary.
Don’t worry, kids. Smiling, joking, inspiring, reflective Pat will be back tomorrow for his regularly scheduled appearance. Maybe.
Finally, before you give in to the temptation to text Amy to ask “whoa… is Pat okay”, you should probably check out this cool new link of which you are the very definition.
Different Man Once Again 