I believe Epstein toooootally killed himself.
I believe a fundamental key to a happy, rich life is not getting noticed by the cops1.
I believe the notion of civilian militias overthrowing the United States government is a maladapted jerkoff fantasy, and the only things protecting Americans from the comically overwhelming force of its military are the oath taken by and the humanity of its members.
I believe in making a daily practice of spreading kōans. This can be a joke with a twist punchline, a bizarre way of looking at a situation, a magic trick, an Easter egg, or anything to arrest the audience’s internal reverie and invite them to view the world as this huge, amazing place, full of unimaginable variety and possibility2.
I believe our elected representatives are meant to be the best of us, and never in US history has that ideal been as distant.
I believe that when conflicted over which choice is morally or ethically correct, it is frequently the harder one.
I believe “shot a duck” is the Platonic ideal of fart euphemisms.
I believe permitting a government to implement a ubiquitous surveillance apparatus for any reason is a time bomb, and among the worst legacies we can leave our descendants.
I believe in my right to own a gun; I am deeply ambivalent about yours.
I believe those who erected Confederate monuments3 in the first place were giving a deliberate and massive middle finger to their communities’ minorities, and I believe those today who seek to remove or replace them are missing the bigger picture: Leave them up, stop maintaining them, then document the bigots who show up to pull the weeds.
I believe Postmodernism’s assertion that, since there is no objective truth, that your ignorance is as good as my education, is vapid and bankrupt. And I believe Call-out Culture is its mewling dumpster baby, the perfect outlet for the couchbound, bitter, and certain.
I believe in living as if there is no God and, since we are all alone, we had better look out for one another.
And I believe the number one argument in favor of there being a God is the wimmens.
I don’t normally bag on cops in public forums, because I am afraid they will kick my door in and shoot my dog. Given their track record, though, they’ll likely go to the wrong house).↩
Given the preponderance of cruelty, want, and plain old bad luck in the world, a little proactive joy seems warranted.↩
Second place trophies.↩