Archive for bitter irony


Posted in musings, writing with tags , , , , , , on February 4, 2010 by kimmy

If the deed cannot go unpunished and someone has to be blamed, it’s best assigned to the least significant player.  They are expendable.  In that way, conflict with the nearest and dearest is avoided and everyone is free to resume their usual roles.

It really doesn’t matter if those closest are at fault.  To acknowledge their transgression is tantamount to disowning the relationship and that would be dangerous.  Preservation of the status quo is more important than truth, especially when so much time has been vested in it.  Better to labor under false pretenses than to admit failure.

Nobody makes mistakes, or least nobody should dare admit to it.  Mistakes are only made by the weak-minded who forget their primary loyalties, and those who are most recently introduced to the fold.  Newcomers may not be fully apprised of what is expected of them and are prone to stumble. 

If they do, seize the moment and transfer all guilt upon them.  No one really values their opinion and they have so little seniority that their absence will go unnoticed.  If enough disparaging commentary is leveled, their reputations can be permanently damaged, thereby eliminating the possibility of reintroduction to the group.

With responsibility assigned to another whom has been safely removed, resume normal activity.  However, it’s best to remember that with shrinking membership comes the danger that when the inevitable arrives, there will be nobody to blame.



Posted in musings, social commentary, writing with tags , , , , , , , on August 13, 2009 by kimmy

Don’t be caught with your pants down!  Deny everything.  There’s no crime in backpedalling and re-imagining the facts; it’s the most popular pasttime in the US.

Just think of the possibilities. . . reconstructing entire years of your life, alternate explanations for your behavior, re-assignment of fault, disposal of responsibility. . . don’t they just make your mouth water?  Finally, you can take charge and repaint yourself in more favorable light.

Gone are those days wasted in brutal self-examination.  Instead, think of yourself as a practical impressionist, sketching wildly imaginative self-portraits, each one crazier than the next.  Who cares if it’s a mess of indeciferable colors and themes?  A statement that bold and unintelligible is sure to delight art circles.

No longer will you languish, a prisoner of conscience.  Throw it all away!  Take up your rightful place as a member of the guerilla narcisissists and pledge to defeat all idealogues.  Those namby-pambies make us all look bad; aren’t you just sick of their convictions?  No doubt that when we have routed them by our sheer numbers, they will recant and enlarge our ranks.  It’s up to us to force them to eschew the Middle Way and to adopt proper self-seeking, without which we might never identify the bad from the goody two shoes.

And when you’ve finished slashing your way through the facts, when your friends, family and colleagues are all scratching their heads, stop and observe all you’ve accomplished.  Relish the skewed vision and destruction left in your wake.  These are the moments that only the truly self-absorbed can appreciate.


Posted in musings, social commentary, writing with tags , , , , , , on July 12, 2009 by kimmy


Hideous creatures, aren’t they?  Why not herd them up like landfill waste and bury the lot?  At least we will be spared the visual assault.

Oh, don’t bother protesting!  You might be able to convince the liberal neighbors with your self-righteous opinions, but you can’t fool me.  You’re revolted by the sight of aging women and frankly, I don’t blame you.  Sagging flesh should be a felony offense.   Concealing it beneath Spanx and push-up bras is false advertising.  Women should have the decency to remove themselves from the market once their charms have faded.

What’s more nauseating than women who don’t know their place?  By now, it should be obvious that their roles are limited and they ought stick to the rules. . . if they know what’s good for ’em.   It’s just too bad, isn’t it, that they continue to prance around like teen girls.  Haven’t they looked in a mirror lately?  No one in their right mind would confuse them with properly attractive females.  What a pity they haven’t learned to stop flirting; they are a public embarrassment.

So what if the only jobs left to them are charwoman, nursemaid and breadwinner?  They should be grateful to have those!  Someone has to pay the bills and clean up.   And while we’re at it, why don’t we cut out their tongues?  Then we won’t be subject to their endless complaints.  Who wants to hear the whining and bitching of an old hag past her prime?  Not me!  I’d much rather listen to the empty stories of male prowess; they’re so much more riveting.


Posted in love, relationships, writing with tags , , , , , , , on December 7, 2008 by kimmy


He pats the lovable ditz on the head and sends her packing.  Order is restored in his sleepy little town, unpredictability and chance squashed beneath size 13 boots.

And so the curtain descends, thanks given to the generous sponsors and the home audience, once riveted to their seats around the RCA radio, breathe a collective sigh, relieved that their hero has once again escaped the clutches of a silly female.

It played out like a serial comedy, didn’t it?  Replete with canned laughter and broad jokes made at the heroine’s expense.  It’s so easy to poke fun at the dim-witted; they tend to laugh along.  But if the the ninny ever gets wise to the source of the humor, gaslighting is an effective way to throw her off.  “Why would I ever mislead you, Gracie?  I’m your friend.”

Ah, nothing beats a happy ending!   . . . unless of course an examination of the premise reveals that the hero is really not as self-important as he thinks.  Would the audience care as deeply if he had no adversary, no goofy counterpart to make him look good by comparison?  Probably not; perfection makes for dull copy.

Although she’s vanquished episode after episode,  the listener still awaits her return, secretly hoping that the ill-suited pair will reconcile their differences and fade into the sunset on a never-ending adventure.