The Freedom to Hate

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One time at work on the day before Thanksgiving, or Tanksgeebing as I'm increasingly hearing it pronounced, my colleagues and I were waiting outside the boss's office, and the subject of turkey day victuals came up. Yeah, we're having this, we're having that, blah blah blah. I said that I hated yams and sweet potatoes. Right after I said that, a woman I’ll call Miss Piggie turned around and said in her strident and very annoying voice, “You can’t HAAAAAAAAAAATE anything!!!” Instantly enraged, I told her that I’ll like, dislike, love, or HATE any God-damned fucking thing I fucking want to.

Miss Piggie is a classic example of leftist retardation. I named her that not only because of her porcine appearance, but also because she roamed the plant for three days as a blubbering, snivveling, crying mess when her pet fucking pig died. She apparently thought that work was a kind of coffee shop, and would greet me with a wide-eyed, slack-jawed, glazed-over look each and every time I asked her to something, which was invariably something that it was her fucking job to do. Not surprisingly, her best friend was a fat, flaming, Filipino fellater who was essentially a semen-swallowing Sumo wrestler version of her. I have no doubt whatsoever that had I been a black, gay, PETA terrorist and a registered Democrat, Miss Piggie would have fallen over herself to help me, and possibly even to blow me.

I hear so much hate about hate these days, I’m actually starting to fucking hate it. According to the left, you can’t hate anything unless, of course, you’re a leftist; then you can HATE AWAY!!! The irony is the leftists sound like the variety of dogmatic, puritannical and humorless Christians that they absolutely despise, albeit with much less humor and much more savage. Add more ironies upon ironies…leftists are the most hateful and hate-filled people around. Leftism is hatred disguised as love.

Who the fuck is anyone to impose their likes and dislikes on a total stranger? Why are people being forced to like someone because they are different? Isn’t that racism, too? There’s a word called prejudice, which seems to be an obsolete term, the meaning of which is don’t judge a book by its cover, but what about postjudice? What if you read the book thoroughly and thought it totally fucking stank, or, even better, been a real-life part of the narrative?

There are a lot of things I hate, but I also know there’s really not much I can do about it or even care to. I hate yams and sweet potatoes, but I never thought about blowing up the trucks carrying them. There are many forms of music I hate, but that doesn’t mean I plan on bumping off the artists. I cannot stand the Toyota Prius and the clueless and inconsiderate (usually leftists, judging from the stickers) assholes who buy and drive them, but that doesn’t mean I feel the need to equip my car like a James Bond 007-like vehicle with machine guns and rocket launchers to get them the fuck out of my way, as much fun as it is to think about. Hate is simply the other side of love; a basic and fundamental human emotion. Deal with it. Live with it. You may as well embrace it, because it surely has you in its grip one way or the other.

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