BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Hey, kids… It’s time for me to be all unpopular again. So, as with my normal disclaimer at the beginning of my workshops, if you are going to be offended by the fact that I have a different opinion than you (if I do, because for some of you I may not), then go elsewhere. I have no intention of arguing with you in the comments section, via email, in person, or in any other fashion. To that end, I’ve turned off the comments because here you are in MY house, and you aren’t going to call me names in MY house.

So here’s the deal…

It seems that JC Penney has manage to spark a hubbub over a t-shirt. In particular, the text on the t-shirt. In case you haven’t heard about it, or seen it, I will post a pic:

The “TwitRage,” “FaceRage,” and “BlogRage” over this has been epic. People calling for boycotts of JCP, calling for heads on poles, blood, guts, veins in their teeth, dead burnt bodies, and all manner of nasty stuff (apologies to Arlo for borrowing his words). I’m not kidding.

One TwitBlogger (that being twitterer/blogger – NOT Twit who Blogs) said, “…it singlehandedly took the feminist movement back about sixty years. “

Wow.

I mean… F*ckin’ WOW…

Color me ignorant, because I had no clue that a shirt with some overtly silly – and satirical – prose scrawled across it could be so powerful. But then, when I made a similar comment on a blog – a blog which ended with “what’s YOUR opinion” mind you – I was told by another commenter that “Clearly, you understand neither the words ‘satire’ nor ‘stereotype’. “ I was also informed that 12 year-old kids do NOT understand satire. Someone should have told my sixth and seventh grade English/Lit teachers that little tidbit so they would have avoided teaching it when I was in school.

My Grand Offense

(click to enlarge)

Of course, it’s way too late to clue in my English/Lit Teachers from 36+ years ago, so that’s a moot point. However, I think maybe they should send a strongly worded letter to my 11 year-old daughter and inform her of this fact. She is apparently breaking the “kid rules” by having a firm grasp on satire, sarcasm (properly used, mind you), and comedy. They should also CC this letter to all of my daughter’s friends who have a similarly firm grasp on the concept. Maybe they should get detention or something…

However, I will admit, perhaps I shouldn’t have said, “Get Over It.” Maybe that was just too strong a comment and it offended the sensibilities of the other commenters. I will, however, stand by my conviction that people will find something to get offended by if they want to.  I mean, what if it was a t-shirt that said “Real Men Don’t Eat Quiche”? Does that mean I’m not a real man? What about other “doods” who eat quiche? Do we have to turn in our Man Cards? Should we be offended by the fact that we are being labeled as… Oh… I dunno… Non-Men?

What about the t-shirts that say, “Too Cool 4 School”? I guess those are setting back the public education system by 100 years?

Here’s the thing – Folks who take offense to things will often do everything in their power to blow it out of proportion, because everyone should be just as offended by it as they are. Unfortunately, in this day of quick access via social media, they are able to beat their drum with a tweet or an update. Once there was a time when they would have had to sit down and write a letter, or get out the posterboard and sharpies to make a protest sign. That involved work, and time. Combined, those would allow a chance for them to consider their actions and say, “You know… My gut reaction was A, but now that I think about it, and view it from all sides, my reaction is B and I don’t feel anywhere near the moral outrage I did fifteen minutes ago.”

One would think that this process would take place in the subsequent 15 minutes anyway, but that’s not how it works. Someone lights the fire because it’s as easy as flicking a Bic. Next thing you know you have mob mentality taking hold. Once that happens, the mob ceases to think. They just act – or more accurately, act out.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m the first SOB who will jump up and down, scream, and beat the drum to protect the rights of anyone to have their opinion – and to express it. So, I’m not at all offended by the fact that these folks elected to express theirs – even though they were about me – and 12 year olds – but not the shirt. More power to them.

Still, I think – Umm, no, I’m downright positive – they are missing the point here. Just as they have a right to their opinions, JC Penney has every right to sell that shirt. And those who hate it have every right to hate it and therefore NOT buy it. They do NOT have the right to demand that JC Penney not sell it, because now they are infringing on JC Penney’s rights, as well as the rights of those who get the joke and might like to buy one.

What they also do NOT have the right to do is make unfounded accusations against the company, and the shirt. Neither JC Penney nor this shirt – which they have now removed from their website, by the way – did any damage to “the feminist movement.”

Nor did the Corona t-shirt I saw at Target damage Mothers Against Drunk Driving.

Nor did the “I’m With Stupid” t-shirt damage anyone standing next to the person wearing it.

It all comes down to this: It’s a t-shirt. An ugly t-shirt at that. Odds are it won’t (or wouldn’t have, as the case may be) sell very many, therefore it would be discontinued. However, by making such a big deal of it on the web, the people who hate it have now called it to the attention of people like me, who get the fact that it’s intended as humor – and there are a damn sight more of us than you think, both male and female.  Whether or not it succeeds in that aim isn’t the issue. Odds are you just created a demand for it.

You know what? I take it back. I did need to say Get Over It.

BTW – Go ahead and think I’m a misogynistic asshole all you want, I can’t stop you. However, I’m willing to bet my wife, daughter, sister, and every other female – scratch that… Every other person, be they male, female, or somewhere in between, who has actually spoken with me for more than five minutes will staunchly disagree with you.

More to come…

Murv

UPDATE: I just returned from walking my brilliant 11 year-old daughter home from school in the lovely 101 degree heat of a St. Louis Summer Afternoon… An informal poll of her friends, and her as well, asking “Would you want/buy a t-shirt that says ‘I’m too pretty to do homework so my brother has to do it for me” resulted in: “Uh… No… That’s stupid.”

A small sampling, yes, but I think you get my point. The only people getting outraged about it are the people who are looking for something to be outraged about. Kids today are more interested in plain shirts that say HOLLISTER or AEROPOSTALE on them. Trust me. I have the credit card receipts to prove it…

Okay… For this one we need a little “reminder background.”

First, most – if not all – of you know what kind of books I write. If you don’t, well, then what the hell is wrong with you? I have a family to feed. Go out, buy my books, then come back and read this. I’ll wait for you…

{Insert Jeopardy Theme Here}

There… Much better. So, as you can see, in order to write dark novels about dark things – in particular serial killers and predators – one must do an enormous amount of research into same. Eventually it starts to get to you and makes you a little paranoid. This is exactly why I walk my kid to and from school. By the time I was in the second grade, I was walking myself to and from school, but that was a different time, and it wasn’t as scary – or, at the very least we didn’t know that it was scary. At any rate, the O-spring is way beyond first grade, but I still walk with her. That way, if a predator shows up, I can just kill the bastard and be done with it. ‘Nuff said.

Second – O-spring has a friend living nearby whose parents pretty much feel the same way, but don’t work from home like moi, so they don’t have the flexibility in their schedules to do same. No problem. O-spring, O-spring Friend, and I walk together. Problem solved.

Third – As I’ve noted before, O-spring is freakin’ brilliant. She’s in the Gifted program, qualifies for C4K classes and all sorts of stuff. And, on top of being brilliant she is “gifted”… What that means is that all that brainpower comes with a quirky personality, hyper-excitability, and things like that. Not ADHD, mind you. It’s just a whole different set of personality traits. Because of that, she can be a bit dramatic. Okay… A LOT dramatic. Most of the time. So, when she approaches something in a calm fashion, sans drama, it tends to take you aback…

Where is all this going? Well, I’ll tell you…

We were walking to school, and as per the age bracket, “Dad” being along is just cramping their style, so they tend to ignore the 800 pound, Bermuda shorts, ripped tee shirt, black socks with sandals, worlds greatest dad hat wearing parental unit trundling along behind them. While there is a certain sadness for me in that, I get it. It’s a phase that should end sometime around when she hits 30. All good. Hopefully I’ll still be around. However, by the same token it gives me an opportunity to observe them like a cultural anthropologist or something. They prattle on about the things that are important to their tween brains, and some of the conversations can be a bit off-the-wall.

This past Monday, for instance…

As we came within a block of the school, the overpowering scent of tater tots filled the air. Obviously, “hash brown nuggets” were on the menu for the kids who buy breakfast at school. At first, the O-spring was thinking she smelled waffles. Of course, that’s possible. I’m sure her nose is better tuned than my half-century old olfactory sense. Be that as it may, it’s where things went that took me buy surprise.

O-spring friend, we’ll call her Mary for anonymity’s sake, launched into a sudden rant. It wasn’t terribly heated, but it was definitely lively. The subject? Waffles. It seems that whenever they have “Breakfast for Lunch” at the school, the cafeteria refuses to provide them with plastic knives to cut up their waffles. Per Mary, they cite safety concerns… Howwwwwevvvveeeerrrrrr (trying to write tween here… forgive me) they have no problem at all providing them with a plastic knife whenever they have, oh… say something on the order of turkey and gravy. So, why not with waffles too?

O-spring responded to this with, “I just tear them into strips and dip them into the syrup.”

Mary went on undaunted, “But do they think we are going to do? They say we might break the knives and hurt ourselves. But we can have them with the turkey.”

“I just dip the waffles,” O-spring said again.

“And we can break anything that’s plastic. It could happen with anything, so why just the plastic knives?” Mary’s rant was still gaining steam.

As much as this diametrically opposed behavior surprised me, it was only the cake – I mean, after all, I could see the ramping up out of O-spring, but Mary is usually the calm one. The icing was about to be applied.

Mary started to launch into another litany of observations about plasticware and ridiculous school bureaucracy when my daughter stepped even further out of character. Gently placing her hand on her friend’s shoulder, in a soothing voice she said, “Calm down, Mary. You’re scaring the squirrels.”

I’m pretty sure I ruptured my spleen trying to contain the guffaw that wanted to exit my gut. After all, I didn’t want to be accused of frightening the rabbits. Apparently the wildlife was already tortured enough…

More to come…

Murv