The Simple Argument Against Mankind

Is man good or evil?

The answer to this question has escaped humanity. Philosophers like Plato, Ayn Rand, and Immanuel Kant each had their own well-thought-out answers, but they’re all dead so who cares what they think.  I say man is evil. I only need one piece of evidence to prove my claim.

The public bathroom.

We’ve all experienced one. Opened that door, looking to complete our most basic bodily function. We’ve all kicked open that stall door and hoped for the best. Then we saw the true nature of humanity lying on the ground next to the toilet. Festering. Leaving a smell in the air that beckoned filthy flying disease-spreading creatures.

On the walls in those stalls, we can see all that man is. The bathroom stall is a private place for a person. No one is allowed in. The person can collect their thoughts and write any messages they choose. No one knows who writes the words. The anonymity of the stall wall reveals the darkness of man. For what does he share in his private moment but the worst words and the worst sentiments. The foulest language in our tongue greets the person who wishes to evacuate their bowels and be on their way. The person has to sit with their cheeks spread on toilet paper, holding their nose and forced to look at crude drawings of genitalia and racial epithets. In their most vulnerable moment, they find that they have been betrayed by their fellow man.

Those people then embrace their own evil. They sit up and leave without flushing. They contribute to the depravity on the walls. They unleash their load on the floor. They leak out onto the toilet paper. They leave the stall in worse shape than they found it. A revenge for the person before that afflicts the person after.

No person who leaves the bathroom leaves with a smile on their face. Their face is a contorted one of frustration with a touch of misery.

For they have been reminded what they are.




The Danger

There comes a moment in a young boy’s life where the safety net of childhood is ripped away from him. He is now to be held responsible for his actions. He is no little boy anymore. He is to be treated like any other man. I’ve had several of those moments. The first I can recall occurred on a late night walk when I was fifteen.

I’m one of those types who walks late at night to clear their head. It drives my poor mother nuts but it has to be done. I’ve tried to remember just when I started this habit of mine, but the memory has been lost. I’d walk miles and end up in places I didn’t expect to. On a rare occasion, I could end up lost for hours. It was one of those nights that I had my moment.

Being out late at night is a dangerous situation to be in. That’s when all the creeps and freaks are out and about. It never deterred me. I prepared myself before I headed out. I was a cautious teenager. I paid complete attention to my surroundings and walked with one ear phone out. I kept only five dollars in my wallet and wore my most beaten up shoes. Being lost late at night compounded the danger.

The freaks could smell fear. If they saw weakness in your steps and poise, that could be it.

That night I found myself in a cul-de-sac in the town over from mine. I had walked in much worse towns than that one. But still I kept my wits about me. Even nice towns had their own batch of misfits looking for any excuse to hurt someone. I knew my way back if I could find the main street. I just needed someone to point me in the right direction. It had to be past midnight.

Then I heard a jogger’s foot steps. A middle-aged woman in a blue track suit was jogging down the side walk I was on. She had no head phones in.

I was so relieved by her presence. Finally a friendly face in the dark. She could help me. I called out to her.

“Excuse me. I’m lost. Do you know how to get to main street from here?”

Her jog sped up into a sprint. She bolted to the other side of the street and jetted away.

I eventually found my way back home. But I was puzzled by her behavior.

Why had she run away so quickly? What was she so afraid of? Was it me? I was a kid. Why run away from a kid?

But in her eyes, I was not a kid. I was the danger in the night.

I would not stand for this. It had to be reversed. I needed to go back to being seen as an innocent kid. If I had been ten, she would have stopped to help me. Maybe she would have scolded me for making my mother worry. It had to return.

But the process could not be stopped. When time took my cute face and fragile frame, it gave me something else. I don’t know what it is, but now I have to come love it. I don’t need to look over my shoulder. I can wear any shoes that I want. I can throw caution into the wind. I do not fear the creeps and freaks any more.

Because I am them and they are me.

Defining Gender

Men are men and women are women, right? It’s more complicated than that. Apparently it can be offensive to refer to what you believe to be a man as a man.  Yesterday I came across this picture and I failed to grasp it. Gender as a range of expression or personal identity? Hmm. It’s strange. Not in a “you’re breaking the traditional rules of society and must be punished,” but something else.

I don’t hate anyone for wanting to change their genitalia, but I can’t consider them by the gender they wish to be defined by. I don’t think this is something that can be changed. I mentioned my position during a discussion on Facebook and I was called intolerant, bigot,  hateful, and worst of all not nice. My position discriminates against transsexual people. I’ve taken a look back and thought to myself, ” Am I an intolerant, ignorant bigot who hates transsexual people because I refuse to call them by the gender they want?”

Gender and sex are different. Sex is the biological differences that define men and women. Gender is the role that society dictates for a person based on their sex. Men are supposed to X and women are supposed to be Y. I only see the biological. No matter how much a person plays a certain gender role and wants that to be their identity, I still see them falling under the curtain of their biology. I’m not trying to define them by their biology and saying they can only do what society dictates is correct. They can’t escape their biology just because they want to play a different role.

To better explain this, I think a man who wears what is traditionally seen as women’s clothing regularly as still a man. I think a man who has their genitals removed and has women’s genitals attached is still a man. This is a permanent label. Much like how we can’t escape our label of human, we can’t escape the label of our sex. The problem isn’t the label. It’s what society sees as normal behavior for that label. People can’t jump to another gender because they want to.  Facts are facts. Men are men. Women are women. You can’t change them because you want to. These aren’t labels that can be moved.

In the discussion, it was stated that I would offend transsexual people by referring to them by the sex that I believe they truly are. So if I called a woman who believed herself to be a man, a woman, I would be offending them and I’d be part of the problem. It’s unfortunate but I will not change the way I feel about this.

In Toy Story, Buzz Lightyear thinks he’s the real Buzz Lightyear and not a toy. Was it offensive to Buzz when Woody to called him a toy? Yes. It wouldn’t make Buzz any less of a toy if Woody played along with him. He’ll never be an actual space ranger. He’s a toy. T-O-Y. Toy. I’m not saying you should go up to people who feel that they are another gender and tell them to not act that way. They can express themselves how they want to and live their lives doing whatever. The traditional gender roles are dying out. Men can do whatever. Women can do whatever. They don’t have to play into roles. They just have labels.