It’s one of the really difficult ones, you can look at it from any angle and study it as much as you like, but there are some / many subjects where you get that funny little feeling in your head, you know the answer is un-knowable ahead of time….
WTF is the west doing in Ukraine, are they really trying to provoke WW3, or do they think it’s never going to come to that because nobody involved actually wants WW3 so it’s not really playing with fire as all involved parties will stamp out any stray sparks before they can ignite a conflagration?
Sure, I could have re-written the above paragraph more simply, “Are they assholes? Or are they assholes?”
But, I’ve been watching and waiting, not for the funny little feeling in your head that tells you that you are never going to work this shit out ahead of time, but that other feeling in your head, where someone drops an idea in and whammo, the super saturated solution instantly crystallises into a solid, god, that was so obvious, how could I not see it etc………….. and I have been waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and waiting.
What is *the* fucking most obvious colloquialism that anyone could use to describe the whole Ukraine thing? One so obvious that if you went back in time, you’d think no bookmaker would give you a bet longer than evens for the next hour or so, maybe, that someone somewhere in the MSM would use it, and it would take off like the aforementioned super saturated solution?
OK, there I said it, I could not go on watching for it and not saying it, it’s been MONTHS not fucking weeks, and even my patience has limits.
Maybe because (assuming a six shooter) not so much that there is a one in six or 16.6 recurring % chance of losing, but because losing is game over man, and it’s a whole nother world, even if you are not the one holding the gun when the hammer drops on a loaded chamber.
I’ve seen this shit all my fucking life, it is one of the commonest fuck ups people make, hey man, that was fucking DISPROPORTIONATE and UNCALLEDFOR, all I did was give you the fucking middle finger, he has NO REASON to go fucking postal…
Yeah, except if you’d known about the shit that dropped down on that guys head the past 6 months, you’d know he was running on a real short fuse and had no time in his life for anyone else’s bullshit, and that includes you flipping him off because he didn’t give way or some such shit.
Fucking years ago, I was out riding with a mate, the dudes in the (old style original) Mini didn’t know my mate had split up with his girlfriend and been shitcanned at work in the past week, and had buried a mate the week before and a parent the week before that, so they thought there was nothing wrong with squeezing past a biker approaching a roundabout so they could get, belatedly, into the lane they wanted.
Next thing I know, my mate loses it, cuts up the side of the mini and starts kicking the shit out of it, mini driver swerves away and ends up on the grass in the middle of the roundabout, my mate rides up after him, just lets the bike fall over sideways, and yanks the fucking passenger door open (it was closest), then hammers it until it levers off the hinges, climbs onto the roof and uses the door as a club to beat the crap out of everything he can reach, meanwhile the occupants cower inside, safe apart from the glass showering around them.
He looks at me, climbs down off the roof and falls on his ass, picks up the remains of the door and leans it against the remains of the mini, and the guys inside, who are all wide eyed and paralysed, says “Sorry”, takes two attempts to pick his bike up, and we ride off.
For years after that, in a pub or round a fire, that was a story that was good for a dozen laughs, and lots of acting out his gestures, and the biggest laugh was always the “sorry” at the end, and he is sat there, all sheepish, yeah man, I wish I hadn’t done that.
I know, it’s always been one of my own biggest failings, I can be quite chilled, and you fucking cut me up or start making gestures because you don’t like my driving, hey asshole, if you want to drive the fucking speed limit, keep left (or right, if you drive on the right) so assholes like me can overtake, then you won’t have me up your ass, urging you to either put your foot down or move left… but play silly buggers with me or start flipping me off, doesn’t even take a heartbeat, I *am* capable of the mini stunt, and once I cross the line from legal into illegal, I may as well go all the way, not a fender bender, may as well run you right off the fucking road you cunt….lol
Hey, I see someone ELSE on the road acting like they got a short fuse, what do I do… good question, I pull over and stop or drop waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay back and stay there.
The point I am making here, is anyone can literally or figuratively tread on someone else’s toes, it is how you react when you are the tread-er, when you realise what ya just done… if you let me, I’ll back off and apologise.
Too many, far, far, far, far, far, far too many cunts, in my life, and in my experience, don’t want to let me, nor, on the other hand, do they want “one of us dies right here right now“, what they want is to play Russian roulette, and win… they don’t just want to redress the “insult”, not even with maybe a bit of interest for good measure, serves the cunt right for treading in my toes, all that I can accept.
It’s the case they want to exact a disproportionate price from me, WHILE SIMULTANEOUSLY ASSUMING that they are the only ones allowed or likely to get disproportionate about this shit…
Yeah sure man, I fucked up and I admit it and I’ll take my grits, I spilt YOUR beer so I’ll buy you another one, and the guys with you, but oh no, you wanna trash talk to me like I’m your fucking bitch too, and I am LOOKING at you motherfucker, wondering if this time it’s gonna come down to the choice of take a beating from a cunt and we both live to see another day, or one of us dies, and it probably ain’t gonna be me, cos you ain’t on that level, you just wanna bitch me out and shit on me, not commit murder.
Usually the “you” I am looking at motherfucker is the only cunt in the room dumb enough not to realise I’m looking at him, you have my full attention asshole, nothing much else exists at the moment… because of course he is wrapped up in his own little one man play (or one wimminz) and there is nothing written in his script for me to do or say back at him.
Usually this you is also the only fucker not to realise, after the event, that once I started looking at you with my full attention, I hardly said a damn thing, if anything at all… and it has to be said, not bigging myself up here, fifties plus skinny cunt yadda yadda, and not like I’ve got a justly deserved rep and a few rows of headstones up on boot hill that I sent there, but the ones who intervene do know one thing that motormouth doesn’t, he and I have completely different attitude about what is going down, and when I say completely different I mean mutually exclusive.
In fiction and hollywierd it would be all me ex special forces made a pact with the devil the very air temperature dropped ten degrees and death stalked the world and everyone knew it and swallowed as their balls shrunk up into their stomachs.
In reality it is one cunt, one other cunt (me) and one or more other people in a whole bunch of people, maybe 190 people, who basically don’t have time for any of this shit, they just want a chilled night out.
If it’s 190 countries and not 190 people, and the world political stage, it don’t work that way anymore… individual human timescales and perspectives are lost, and yet it is individual humans with their perspectives and timescales calling the shots.
I, and a lot of other fuckers around the planet, got that funny feeling where we know we can’t work out the answer in advance, and therefore plan accordingly.
I, and a lot of other fuckers around the planet, may well get that funny feeling where the super saturated solution crystallises and we realise, hey, they were all playing Russian Roulette….. with our lives…. assholes….