Irony and its Discontents
Tuesday, June 28, 2022
by Vincent Francone
1.
I once told a pro-lifer that if anyone opposes abortion they should adopt a kid or shut up. They said, “Why should I be forced to raise a kid I don’t want.”
2.
Talking to a libertarian friend the other day, he makes a comment regarding the gender
nonconforming and pontificates about the impossibility of their existence, that they cannot force
the rest of us to use pronouns that don’t align with the norm. I ask him to explain his political
beliefs.
“Above all, libertarians value individual liberty and ask that we be left alone from any outside
intrusion in our lives unless what we do harms others.”
3.
Gun right’s advocate says no one should feel unsafe.
4.
Talking to a Catholic woman at a party who’s just seen the Going Clear documentary and asks,
“Can you believe the nonsense Scientologists believe? I mean, it’s not exactly a plausible story.”
5.
“Black Lives Matter.”
“All Lives Matter!”
“Right. Thus the need for the Black Lives Matter movement.”
“…”
6.
“We all have a right to travel,” says a guy who opposes abortion because it’s not overtly
mentioned in the Constitution.
7.
My friend on Facebook, 2016: “There has to be a better way to protest than taking a knee.”
My friend on Facebook, 2020: “There has to be a better way to protest than marching in the
street and causing mayhem.”
8.
I spent the day feeling correct. Refuting each fallacious claim. Smacking down those who dared
share their ideas on guns and reproductive rights and the necessary path for the betterment of our
country, to which I am diametrically opposed. The nerve of them advocating for their wronghead
beliefs! Strident, self-righteous pricks! I’ll show them! (And I did. And it made me feel as good
as does the last drink of the night, blissfully unconcerned with an oncoming hangover. Today,
I’m left with only memories of transitory elation. And like the hungover mornings, there’s an
accompanying fear that my words were ill-advised, ill-stated, ill-received, condescending,
unnecessary or worse: muddying an already filthy arena. Nothing more exhilarating than folly.
But I’m done. No more. I’ll keep it civil. Talk about the weather. Maybe just peek at Facebook.
See what people are saying. Oh, no. Really? That’s your take? Seriously? Ugh. Okay… keeping
quiet. Staying out of it. Here’s a picture of some food I cooked. Wait, what? He actually thinks
this? Fuck. Okay, quick comment. More a joke than a poke. Just the one. Hair of the dog. One
more? Fuck it. It’s 5 o’clock somewhere.)