Model Minority

So for some reason that somehow hints to a higher power in the lonely universe, several events among the social lives of myself and my friends have parallelled each other…unfortunately these parallels also hint that this higher power is an insufferable prick with a f*cked sense of humor.

Several of my friends including myself have unfortunately been posed with the dilemna of being the recipients of low grade crimes against humanity…not genocide or oppression but the little acts of casual rudeness and thoughtlessness that pile up resulting in the ocassional emotional conniption.

In other words, people f*cked us over and now we want to f*ck them over…

Ahhhh…but we’re supposed to be enlightened and accept the failings of our brothers and sisters.  And isn’t this the better route because as much as we secretly enjoy revenge thrillers like the Count of Monte Cristo, Seven, and Oldboy, the little things done to us don’t really merit such an over-reaction.

I mean is it really feasible to imprison someone in your basement or wait years to enact some act of vengeance?  Netflix has reduced their mailing time to one day!  That’s still too long! Am I supposed to wait years to get back at my enemies when waiting a day for I Heart Huckabees is borderline torture?

And caging someone seems all well and good until you actually have to feed and take care of them.

But wait?  What about the little lauded tool of passive aggression?  Well that’s a mixed bag…that too takes too much energy as well.  Not every one is Gandhi and can make a world empire give up because they can’t take you sitting around their country doing nothing…

Britain: Whatcha doing Gandhi?
Gandhi [sulking]: Nothing.
Britain: Come on.  I need your people to sell goods to.
Gandhi: I don’t care.
Britain: I’m sorry I subjugated your people for almost a century.
Gandhi: Do I look like I care?  Forget about it.
Britain: You’re obviously mad.  Can we talk about it?
Gandhi: Nothing’s wrong.  I want to watch tv.
                                 Britain: You don’t even have a tv.
                                 Gandhi: Whatever.  I’m outta here.
                                 Britain: Dammit Gandhi!  We can’t live like this!
                                 Gandhi: Then leave!
                                 Britain: Maybe I will.
                                 Gandhi: Then do it.
                                 Britain: Fine I will.  Then you’ll be sorry.
                                 Gandhi: Go already.  I don’t care.

See this is why they still name kids after him!  Genius.  On the other hand, my attempts at passive aggression are not nearly as eloquent…

Roommate: Hey Sang.
Me: Whats up.
Roommate: Did you shit on my bed?
Me: No.
Roommate: Are you sure?
Me: Yeah.
Roommate: Cause there’s a pile of warm shit on my bed and its got a post it note that says "You suck You suck You suck. Signed Not Sang".
Me: Wasn’t me man.
Roommate: Okay.  Let me know if you know who did it.
Me: Sure thing.

Hmmm…what am I trying to say?  Oh yeah.  It’s not worth getting into a tizzy about this sort of thing.  You ask for an apology and if you’re lucky you get one (I did and it was very much appreciated). Or you get back together with someone and its better to be with the one you love instead of being right. Or you remove yourself from having to deal with sh*t in the first place which is probably the best thing for everyone.

Okay. Enough introspection. Our first readthrough is Thur so things will hopefully get interesting after that…

This BLOG was brought to you by Frou Frou’s Let Go.
RANDOM SANG TRIVIA: At age 9, Sang was mauled by two french poodles.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, May 24th, 2005 at 11:02 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.