Who Gives A Fuck?

I saw a homeless man on the way home today who held a sign reading, “Homeless, but who cares anyways?” Now that’s what I call a good fucking point. Either this guy was aiming to make a case to the passing motorists on Dana Ave, or he was tugging heartstrings to get a buck. Either way, the man has a good fucking point.

So driving the last few minutes to my apartment I thought to myself, “Who really does care?”

Short answer: no one.

Think about it.

No one cares about the motherfuckers who get blown up daily in some sandbox hell on the other side of the planet. No one cares about the ones who lost their houses, shit we don’t even care about the people who never had one in the first place. No one cares about the people I see standing outside the unemployment office by my work. No one cares about…fill in the fucking blank. Look, for every one person who has serious problems such as these I’d be willing to bet there are ten fuckers who don’t give a shit at all.

Take a minute and think about that. We are concerned with our own shit, our own kids, our own finances etc. We are self-absorbed, self-aware, self-righteous and we have no qualms about it. Think about it, my friends, we bloggers are the worst offenders. We bitch…and bitch…and bitch about our problems which are mostly (in my case at least) self-inflicted. We whine for sympathy like a dog who whines when he has to piss, and I am the worst of all. Now before you click off this page with a “fuck this bastard” attitude in your head, hear me out.

I’m not that big of a pessimist.

I was watching the NBC Nightly News with my main man Brian Williams on the night before I drove to Columbus for my little hooker game with Pitseleh roughly two weeks ago. Now, if you recall this was the day Continental Flight 3407 and its fifty passengers flew out of the night sky and into someone’s house. I hate to be an asshole, but I’m good at it so I’m going to tell you the truth, the first thing I thought was nothing less than:

“Who gives a fuck?”

Oh yeah, I know that is some pretty harsh shit, but you need to understand where I’m coming from here. Don’t you think for one second that I don’t have feelings for the people who die in random plane crashes, in fact my uncle John died in this one here. I was seven, I had no idea what the hell it meant or just how gruesomely horrible it must have been, but now I get sad thinking about the uncle I hardly even remember anymore. I feel for these people, the ones who lost someone close but more so for the ones who will never know them. “So why is this asshole saying he doesn’t give a fuck about the 3407 dead?”

To make a point.

I don’t give a shit because everyone else on earth gives too much of a shit. You know what else happened on Friday February 13 2009? Of course not, and neither would I if Brian Williams hadn’t told me, so I’m not blaming you. Friday February 13 2009 was the deadliest day in Iraq so far this year. Despite my eternal love for B Dub, this story was just a footnote. “Forty dead and sixty injured as a result of a suicide bombing in Iraq.” Short, sweet and to the point…now on to the housing crisis…NEXT! Still not following me? It’s simple so bear with me.

Why are the people on flight 3407 so much more important than the ones who were ripped limb from limb on that same day in Iraq…shit or everyday for that matter? It’s obvious that they aren’t, there is no difference in either set of people. None of them woke up and thought, “Better hug my kids extra long today because I’m going to DIE in a few short hours.” Truth is we have been hearing about people being turned into new age Jackson Pollock paintings in Iraq on a daily basis for the past six years. Let me ask you a question. When you watch the news, if you can even stomach it anymore, do you see those people as humans? Do you think about their families, their jobs, their friends or even their fucking pets? Or do you think of them as a number?

Forty one dead, not forty…oh well, just another number.

We have been completely desensitized. They called flight 3407 a “tragedy,” but made no mention of “tragedy” when talking about our splattered friends in Iraq. It just isn’t a tragedy anymore, it’s commonplace, it’s usual and sad to say…it’s the fucking norm. Think about it, if a plane crashed everyday and fifty people died as a result, eventually there would be no “Remembering the Victims of Flight 3407” type shit. There would be no talk of how memorable and loving these people were. They would just be numbers. 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10. Numbers. Not people…not humans…not souls.

So let’s come full circle, shall we? We are back to our homeless man on Dana Ave. He’s right…no one does care anymore. The more we hear it, the easier it is to block it out and go about our lives. You know maybe it’s for the best, after all we can’t be going around worrying about all six billion or however many godforsaken people are infesting this planet, now can we? No, we would cease to function if we did that. So here’s my equation, and I’ve never been so good at math so bear with me if it makes absolutely no sense at all.

Hard times = bad situations. Bad situations + good people = bad news. Bad news = noteworthy news. Noteworthy news (bad situations + good people) = sympathy. Too much sympathy + too much noteworthy news = apathy.

Apathy = Who gives a fuck?

So, my dear pupils, where does this leave us? Straight in the shitter. But wait, there’s more!

Let’s get back to my NBC news broadcast. Depressing news, apathetic population and pissed off Cheese was the only product of said newscast. I was thinking it out to myself and the question I kept coming to was, “What happens when we all really just don’t give a fuck anymore?” Well I’ll give you the short and long answer all wrapped up in one.

What happens is that I board myself up in my apartment with rations, water and ammunition while sleeping with my gun and waiting for the evil zombie poplutaion to come and eat my brains. Ok well maybe that isn’t quite what would to happen, but you get my point. When we stop caring…everything goes wrong.

Now, where were we? Oh right, depressing newscast that made me hate humanity.

But then there was that final story, the one that had me singing Brian William’s praises the whole way to Columbus even though he had nothing to do with it…I just love that dude.

That very same day, February 13 2009, there was a single mom in Searcy, Arkansas who was shopping at Wal-Mart. She had been laid off and moved down from Michigan, I imagine in search of a better life. She was buying groceries and supposedly cringed; showing the heartbreak only a single, unemployed mom could show when the register handed down her sentence: $139. I imagine this woman reaching for her wallet wondering where the fuck this money was going to come from. That is until the checker told her that the man who had checked out in front of her had already paid for her groceries. I bet she cried…I would have and I bet you would have too. And even nobler was the fact that when that woman walked out of the Wal-Mart there were no news crews with the Good Samaritan standing by to receive the reward he most certainly deserved…no, the man had left without giving his name or any way to reach him. He did it for the sole purpose that he knew she needed something…anything to remind her that this life wasn’t just some sick cosmic joke.

So look at my point now…all ripped to shreds and full of holes, apparently people still do care. Ah, but now you realize the point I have been making all along, don’t you? This world needs people who care for and love their fellow human being. This world is a shithole and too many people lead lives of despair and hardship, we need each other. I’m not asking for money or tears or sympathy…I’m just asking that you give a fuck.

Please…just give a fuck.

Remember that the guy who won’t be coming home to his children because a suicide bomber killed him in Iraq or Afghanistan or wherever is exactly the same as each American who died in that plane crash. Their children will weep the same tears; just the same as my mother wept for her brother when he died in Evansville, Indiana all those years ago…we are all in this together. Their husbands and wives will share the same loneliness, their kids the same lack of guidance and their parents the same misery, for we are all human. We are all in this together; whether a poor kid in Haiti or Bernie Madoff under house arrest in his posh Manhattan apartment…we are all in this together.

So just remember that when you pass the homeless guy with a sign wearing tattered shoes as you head home from your 9 to 5. Just remember that there are people out there who have it way harder than you and I…even though they breathe the same air and weep the same tears. Just remember that we are social animals, we are animals of community and not caring goes against our very nature. This is not Survivor, this is not last man standing…this is us…HUMANITY…in this together and don’t you ever forget that.

So like I said; I’m not asking for your money, tears or sympathy…I’m just asking you to give a fuck.