“I’m not handsome enough to be James Bond. Maybe a villain, though.”

(Matt Smith,  English actor)

            You can be courteous, friendly and helpful and some people still think they have the right to shit all over you. No matter how nice you are, there is always someone who stirs the pot. The most dangerous liars are the ones who believe they are telling the truth. They actually fall for their version. It doesn’t matter if proof stands against them, they still remain convinced that they have the right to do whatever they want. I am sorry but saying you are sorry as you continue to cause problems is not an apology, it is complete bullshit. I think it is laughable how some validate their position. They get to say it is so and damn anyone who would dare disagree. It’s no coincidence they always end up hating and blaming those who are just standing up for their own rights. Just because you exist does not designate you Commander in Chief, even if you are acting like Trump. Your rights do not negate anyone else’s. Neither do mine. It’s even stranger when there was no issue, no words spoken, until they cross the line and someone has the audacity to say enough is enough. It’s funny how before something was said there was no problem but it doesn’t matter. You have to resolve yourself that you can’t get along with everyone. You can’t please everyone. Of course, this automatically makes one the villain. “How dare you interfere with my narcissism. How dare you think I have to consider you at all.” In most cases, we are faced with the revelation that, in fact, it was like this all along. This personality type is the reason that  people get divorced and sit all alone, in spite of it being everyone else’s fault.   

“A man must be big enough to admit his mistakes, smart enough to profit from them, and strong enough to correct them.” (John C. Maxwell, American author)

            Old man Hickson was a nasty piece of work. As a matter of fact, he was a curmudgeon, generally speaking. He had a reputation for being difficult and everyone in the neighbourhood knew it. If you passed him on the street, the only thing you would  encounter was the overwhelming scent of vodka. He reeked of it and most often could be seen drinking a mix of this or that. Most days, he was riddled with the stuff, just like every other active alcoholic on the planet. William and his late wife lived in their home for over 30 years before she passed away. Her death changed the man. He withdrew into a sense of isolation. While he had not been the warmest of neighbours previously, he became combative, unwelcoming and unapproachable. People knew to stay away. This deliberate state of self was the only thing that kept him going. He began to believe his own press. He placed a “no trespassing” sign on his front lawn and would scream, “Get off my grass!” if he caught someone lingering on his Property. The children in the area were afraid of him. It wasn’t his disposition that kept them away from the grump who lived at the end of the street.  The only real play area for the children was located right beside him on the west side of his place. He hated when the neighbourhood kids would play there. The abandoned lot was a thorn in his side and anyone daring to make noise would be cursed at. Anyone who even touched his fence would be verbally attacked. Perhaps the most daunting behaviour he exhibited was when a Frisbee or toy entered his proclaimed territory. If you violated his airspace, you lost that toy forever. He would literally smash and destroy them right before the eyes of the offender. He was very much like the character Nebbercracker, from the CGI film Monster House. Occasionally, some dog would explore the old man’s bushes or the base of the very large and mature oak tree that sits at the corner of the property. If he managed to catch an offending pooch, he would call animal control and ship the beast off to parts unknown. He didn’t care if you begged and pleaded, he would not hear of charity. Only what he wanted, what he believed, mattered. It was his property, his domain and his place to hand out whatever consequence he felt appropriate. Eventually, all his hatred came to a head. Olivia was 7 years old when her brother Trevor tossed her favourite dolly over old man Hickson’s fence. This deliberate form of torture was funny at first. When Olivia decided to fetch her stuffed friend, Hickson went from madman to monster. He spotted the child and ran out to remove her from his property. He grabbed her and rushed her to the street, bruising her arm and her trust in mankind. He thought he had the right to do whatever he wanted, regardless of the law or even common courtesy. When the police arrived, he stated over and over that he had the right to protect his property and claimed that was exactly what he was doing when he assaulted the girl.

“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.” (Friedrich Nietzsche , German philosopher)

            Alicia loved her boyfriend Oliver but the same could not be said of her mother. Caroline Reed actually hated his guts although she never really said just why. One must assume there was something about him to despise him so. Perhaps he reminded her of her ex-husband. Perhaps he reminded her of her father. Regardless, she constantly interfered in their relationship. Over and over, she tried to make it impossible for them to be together. Caroline instigated missed phone calls, erased messages and a sour demeanour anytime he showed up at the house. She ridiculed and belittled him as he stood waiting for Alicia. Eventually, he just waited in the car. Oliver knew what was going on but Alicia was rather dense when it came to her mother. The woman could do no wrong. It didn’t matter what was said or what had been done, Caroline was innocent before the charges were even laid, at least to her daughter. It went on and on for months, this secret assault on what might well have been true love. It started to erode the sense of loyalty Oliver felt. Alicia just didn’t get it. She was blind to her mother and refused to listen to anyone accusing her of anything. It was eventual. The old bitch was not supposed to be home on this visit. The plan was to pick up Alicia, have a nice dinner and try to work things out before they corroded away. Caroline answered the door, much to his surprise. Completely out of character, she welcomed him in and called for her daughter. He was to make himself comfortable as she went off to check on Alicia. The evening was initially pensive but it seemed to smooth out on the way. Both parties agreed, they needed more communication and less mother. They spotted the cop car from down the street. Alicia worried that something had happened and prayed Mom was okay. The pair walked into pure chaos. They arrested Oliver, lowered him into the cruiser and drove away. Alicia was heartbroken that he had stolen all that money from her mother’s purse. The next day, she got quite angry that he had done this deed despite well knowing what his actions would do to their relationship. If he didn’t care, she was not about to. Her mother had been right all along. She wished she had listened, she regretted not doing so. Mom got her way and never had to deal with Oliver again. Caroline got what she wanted and she only had to lie to get it. Of course, to Alicia, Mom could do no wrong.

“The art of war is simple enough. Find out where your enemy is. Get at him as soon as you can. Strike him as hard as you can, and keep moving on.”

(Ulysses S. Grant, 18th president of the United States)


            From the second he met her, he just knew that he didn’t like her. Whether she realized it or not, she was exactly the kind of person that he had spent years trying to avoid. He didn’t really intend to judge her but she gave little reason not to. The first half hour of their first time together found him wanting, wanting to leave, to flee from this seemingly unending cacophony. It was no surprise to him. He could just tell from her energy that something was worth avoiding. He liked his job until she came along. Having to work with her every day was brutal, at least all the pretending to be nice was. She was just one of those people who would constantly get on your last nerve. She talked too much and all that talking was always so critical, critical and judgy. She had nothing good to say. The longer he worked with her, the more he wished she would just shut the fuck up. It was a challenge, a daily challenge. Nothing good came with her so he tried to not let it bother him. He struggled to remember to not shit were you eat. As time passed, she settled into her delivery. The worst part was just how two-faced she appeared to be. With one hand, she would stand with a colleague and be nice as pie. Once they left, all bets were off. He just knew she did exactly the same thing behind his back. It went on and on, in a seemingly unending chorus of pettiness and desperation. He tried to empathize, to feel some sense of compassion for an obviously lost soul but he could not find it. Over and over again, she gave plenty of reasons to not like her. She was a copycat. Anytime someone added a picture or memento to their work station, she would follow suit. Anything anyone added, she duplicated. This routine made her look even more pathetic. Near the end, it was difficult to spend any amount of time with her. Any time one did share was mired in that same old two-faced tone and critical dissection. It got to the point where she began to interfere with workplace morale. No one wanted her input for fear of compromise. No one wanted to listen for fear of fuelling her fire. She made a neutral place an awkward place. People avoided her, just because. The productivity of her team began to suffer. No one wanted to work with her so work didn’t get done. They fired her ass when she started blaming everyone else for her lack of commitment. The longer she stood at the water cooler sharing gossip, the more management found her expendable. They asked for input from her teammates. Not one person had anything good to say. She made the workplace uncomfortable. People could not get their work done with her hanging all over them. Once the cat was out of the bag, she was not soon with the place. They told her in no uncertain terms that her lack of professionalism had sealed her doom. They showed her to the door with the same disregard she expressed towards her onetime colleagues. It’s a sad state of affairs when the world is better without you in it.

“I think we consider too much the good luck of the early bird and not enough the bad luck of the early worm.” (Franklin D. Roosevelt, 32nd president of the United States)

            People are often more stupid than anything else. They cannot see past their own illusions and recognize that there is more then just their point of view. Things are not always clear cut. Observation only goes so far and it is always shaped by our biases and tendencies. If you were to convince me and I convince you, there would still remain two points of view. Empathy aside, assuming that your truth is the only truth does not necessarily make it so. Some people demand they are right even when they know they are not. It matters little what really happened or what was really said. There comes a time when most relationships are tested. When one part of that relationship believes they have exclusive rights just because, it can cause a great schism, and may eventually lead to a war of more than words. Some people attack, believing their rights outweigh everyone else’s. Some people convince themselves their behaviour is justified by what they consider to be the truth. Some people give others a reason to not like them, to no longer associate with the kind of person your actions make clear. Regardless of any reason or justification, the way we treat others is usually defined by the way they have treated us. Sometimes, you get exactly what you give. Of course, once the die is cast, people blame everyone else for the reason it happened. They take no responsibility because if they did, they would have to admit they have done something wrong. The self-absorbed player whines and complains about the way things are as they continue to prove they were not worth the struggle, not even worth a moment of kindness. Villains are everywhere, they come in all shapes and they come in all sizes. Sometimes they hide as the grumpy old man down the street. Sometimes they hide as a family member. Sometimes they even appear as themselves. You might even find a guilty conscience or two, claiming things are broken but not because of anything anyone they know might have done. More often than not, guilty people would rather lie and deflect than take responsibility for their actions and the things they have said. People tend to be transparent, it is crystal clear their intent. They also try to camouflage their crap but it’s still just another pile of shit. People can also be obtuse so it’s no wonder this denseness goes ignored in their own mind. How they treat others tends to determine how those others treat them. In the end, it all comes down to their lack of acuity. Most offenders, in general, have trouble learning or understanding. You need to take it slow because they do not know how to go fast. It can seem an endless chore to have to deal with them. All of a sudden, enough is enough.

“You can’t please everyone. When you’re too focused on living up to other people’s standards, you aren’t spending enough time raising your own. Some people may whisper, complain and judge. But for the most part, it’s all in your head. People care less about your actions than you think. Why? They have their own problems!”

(Kris Carr, American author)