Self-righteousness is a swelling and bloating feeling I'm sensing in this social body I occupy. It's pouring out of all corners and viciously attacking me from all angles imaginable. It's not just oozing out of the regular go-to-places from which I've come to except this vile sense of self. Instead of the figurative smelly armpits of this global community I'm catching a whiff coming from, I don't know, the ears or something. Can ears stink?

Christian people are easy targets these days. Especially in the secular haven of Scandinavia. I can literally (and hopefully) go days without ever running into a person of the religious persuasion. What I cannot do however is avoid encountering the occasional smug cretin with their head lodged firmly and deeply up their own asshole. Oh, he may be a self-professed atheist, animal rights activist, fair trade-advocate. But he's still incapable of rational thought and introspection. For instance; You see - he's not an atheist because he's come to the rational conclusion of a well deliberated internal argument. He's a non-believer because he has been told that religious people are dumb and he's certainly not dumb. He's smart, his momma told him so, although all factual evidence points to the former.

So in a seriously convoluted way, the only "logical" path to take is that of atheism. Not agnosticism by the way, that's for pussies. The same goes for faux-vegans, who don't eat meat because people who do are immoral and inferior to them. Pseudo-eco warriors who only really care about the bike path outside their condo. Wannabe-feminists who join up because they hate men. Impostors shouting "support the troops!" while actively obstructing increased pay and benefits for service men/women. Fake freedom of speech supporters who want to stop others from expressing offensive ideas. And anyone else who dons the mantel of righteousness to simply feel better about themselves.

You can only truly know something if you actually believe in it. Answering the question: "Why do you believe?" with something akin to: "'Cause!" or "It makes me feel good about myself." are not viable options bucko. Pointing fingers at people and proclaiming your superiority feels good sometimes. Damn good. Just remember to pull that sucker out of your nose first. It's flu season you know.

The other night me and the girlfriend were reliving shared but separate childhood memories by re-watching The Neverending Story. It was a spur of the moment type thing, so we got started rather late. As we were approaching the half-way mark we found ourselves getting the mid-night giggles. That stage of tiredness when everything seems rather funny. We were chatting in hushed and clipped tones and having a laugh at how poorly some of the elements in the movie had aged. During this most pleasant of times we get interrupted by a loud banging on the wall followed by an equally loud yet muffled voice. - "I'm actually trying to sleep!" Or something to that effect came pouring through the wall we share with this apparently grumpy denizen. Most rude. That I had been forced to overhear said person have loud and obnoxious mid-day sex just a few days prior is of no concern. Apparently. Clamorous Afternoon Boinking - Perfectly acceptable. Average Nightly Conversation - Horrendous. We weren't having a rip-roaring booming time, with rowdy cheers and boisterous applauds. The volume was in every respect, reasonable. A bit too reasonable even. Had it sounded like twenty-odd burly men performing heavy construction in the middle of an ongoing party as a gaggle of geese were set ablaze for the party crowd's amusement I should think my keen and sharp neighbour would have hesitated before bothering me with information on his sleeping habits. The silly git. The addition of the word "actually" in his improvised and analog cross-domicile radio theatre opens up a whole other level of possible interpretation. Did he actually expect us to know that his and our headboards were adjacent? What then must be his point with such rambunctious three o'clock sex? I dare not speculate any further into such perverted goings-on that must be...going on. I quite often over-complicate things. He's probably just a self-centered asshole. Which is an interesting idea, in and off itself.

Yoghurtspasm