Too Many Dumbasses

I have lived on the lip
Of insanity, wanting to know the reasons,
Knocking on the door. It opens.
I've been knocking from the inside! - Jalaluddin Rumi in the Zen Calendar (November 24, 2003).

Day 243. Two-thirds of my blog year has past. Normally when a significant fractional milestone regarding the blog is reached, I am in my happy place. No so today. Humanity is grating on my nerves.

I'm just going to jump right in and say this: There are way too many Dumbasses in the world. And there appears to be a disproportionate concentration of them within a thirty mile radius of me. I am exhausted by this particular demographic. They constitute a significant impediment to the values and virtues I am studiously trying to cultivate. In fact, they consummately piss me off.

I have been logging a lot of miles in the car this weekend, so dumbass drivers are at the top of my list. This elite group is comprised of people who are behind the wheel of an automobile but are not DRIVING said motor vehicle. Instead, they are talking (on the phone, to a passenger, to God, to themselves), or texting, or talking WHILE texting, or eating, or drinking, or pushing buttons on some dumbass piece of electronic plastic designed to make our world a safer and more stimulating environment in which to live. They are inevitably occupying the fast lane, driving under the speed limit, and never bother to shift their gaze from the electronic distraction to check something as archaic as a rear view mirror. They can't be bothered to change lanes when my front bumper (the one attached to a car that is actually going the speed limit) is a half-inch from their rear bumper, much less use a turn signal (this is because most lane changes nowadays are simply indicated by the vehicle erratically crossing the lane markers as the driver focuses on her/his phone. I have difficulty imagining a text message that could be urgent enough to justify killing four people on the interstate.)

The next group of dumbasses is the population segment that still experiences American demographics and social mores as though it were about 1952. Women don't work. They certainly don't hold positions of power, prestige, status, or achievement. The only legitimate family is a white man married to a white woman and their (preferably more than two) biological children. Sex, of course, is for procreation, with slight allowances for married people on Saturday night, if they assume the missionary position and sit in their regular pew on Sunday. Except, of course, for white males, who can do anything sexual they want. To anyone they want. Christmas and Easter are the only legitimate religious holidays. There are no people of color outside of entertainment, athletics, and jail. Gay people are all promiscuous, abhorrent, pathological sinners. Doctors know everything. Preachers know more than doctors. The only existing language on the planet is English. The earth is ours to abuse and exploit. There is plenty of everything.

The final group of dumbasses I would like to delineate is the exorbitantly large cohort of morons who are clueless about anything that exists beyond the realm of their Ego. These are the people who stop in the middle of aisles and roads and intersections and hallways and movie exits as though they are the only persons in existence. They have absolutely no awareness of, or concern for, the consequences of their dumbass actions on others. They litter, they are loud, they take the biggest piece and the last piece, they are irretrievably attached to everything they own (and many things they don't), and they are quick to buy heavy gauge plastic sheeting and duct tape to seal their windows at the slightest hysteria regarding chemical warfare. The only question that ever crosses the tiny amount of gray matter that occupies their skull is, "Where's mine?" I, Me, My, Mine comprise the bulk of their vocabulary. Concepts such as connectivity, interconnectedness, interdependence, interrelatedness, mutuality, and globalization are incomprehensible to them.

It is probably a good thing that the Buddha isn't attached to the content of my blog. Today's post is a wee bit askew from the bulk of what he teaches. I readily acknowledge that it is more than a wee distance from the attitude that usually prevails on my blog. I have been feeling like a Goody Two Shoes of late, and it is choking me. Sometimes the burden of being a psychologist and a parent and a blogger and a budding Buddhist and a strong cyclist and a conscientious inhabitant of the planet is overwhelming. Perhaps this is a natural byproduct of the reality that I truly do take those roles seriously and ethically. I'm pretty sure the material on the blog and the hours on the cushion emanate from sincere intent. This journey we call life matters to me.

I always reassure my clients that the distinction between thought, feeling and action is a crucial one. I don't tell the dumbasses they are dumbasses. Certainly, no dumbasses read my blog, so I am not worried about personally offending anyone with this post. Most of the time, I try to breathe and practice loving kindness. Summon some compassion, even when circumstances threaten to elicit its antithesis. These are the practices I will continue to cultivate. When they elude me, an occasional word purge at the keyboard will likely be my alternative coping mechanism.

Gassho,
CycleBuddhaDoc