You Don't Want to Hear This (or, Yes, I Am About to Offend You)

We need to clarify some issues. No matter how bad the truth hurts. If girl pants have taught me anything, it's tough love.

Having recently blogged about certain OCD tendencies, I began to fear that some people, or, a certain type of person, might exploit the occasion. Not in the sense that they might use it as leverage and try to get the upper hand over me--that would be fine--but rather in the sense that they might look around at their messy house and excuse the abomination.

So we need to make something very clear: A clean house is better than a messy house. It just is. It always has been and always will be. OCD is not a factor in determining the moral, aesthetic, and hygenic superiority of cleanliness. People with clean houses, OCD or not, are better people in that regard. Pure and simple. The degree to which your house is a mess is the degree to which it is inferior to a clean house.
It should go without saying that even if you are a slob, you are a valuable, vital, and important human being with a lot to offer, infinite potential, deserving of love and respect. And everyone should, right now, stipulate to the fact that even a messy house can be full of "love." But don't try to give us any crap about how you're artistic, or how you "organize differently." You're messy. That's it. I've heard moms say "I'd rather play with my kids than clean my house." Wonderful. You are honestly to be admired for that part about playing with your kids. But frankly, I'd rather play with my kids IN a clean house, thanks.
And then the Hippies chime in. "Nature isn't clean. Don't be a clean freak." (Which is just the atheist version of "Hey, God made dirt.") Forget about the fact that Nature is ordered and constantly cleaning up after herself. That's a different topic. Just remember that you are human and this is civilization. A clean house is better than a messy one, and there is nothing--NOTHING--you can say to make your messy house a tribute to anything but messiness.

While we're ruffling feathers . . . there are a couple topics that need revisiting. (I've worked all night and I'm feeling punchy, so watch out.)

Obese people ARE second class citizens. Not in the sense that their potential is anything less than infinite, or that they should be treated with emotional disdain. Many of them are far better people than I might ever be. In fact, the only reason I feel fine saying this is because I believe in everyone's ability to accomplish anything. But this is undeniable: The degree to which you are overweight is the degree to which you are physically inferior to people who are in shape. Sure, you might be smarter, nicer, richer or more loving, but in that one regard, YES, you suck and it is gross. That's it.
(ASIDE: In the event that one of our larger citizens takes real offense to these comments and attempts to take physical revenge, I'm reasonably sure that I could outrun any of them on zero hours sleep with my shoelaces tied together. And I think this proves my point. Yes, charge them more for health care. YES make them pay for two seats on a plane. I might even be in favor of levying a fat tax. What are they going to do? Organize and protest? March on Washington? Good!)

Moving right along: If you still vilify either one of the major political parties and think the other is morally superior, you are to a certain degree STUPID and your opinion on almost everything else should be considered inferior. We don't even need to make any stipulations here. You are either dumb or uninformed. Either way you're dangerous.

Moreover, if your religion has ever excused you in dismissing or discounting the value of people outside your religion, then your religion is, at that particular juncture, inferior. Maybe even invalid. This includes these "easternists," yogis and bhuddies, who routinely dismiss and stereotype christians. They are as UNenlightened as their counterparts are UNchristian. (In fact, they're even stupider, because they think they don't have a religion.)

Furthermore, people who think Dave Matthews "rocks," have inferior musical tastes and are not to be trusted, although they are still a cut above anyone who will groove to the endless masturbatory guitar solos of blues rock. Dead Heads are the bottom of the barrel.

To end on a hopeful note: a world where people can accept the unvarnished, unabashed truth, is to that degree, a superior world.

These are the facts. They are beyond contestation.