(Offensive language warning. Many fucks reside in this post.)
I was thinking about a noble pursuit. A noble goal. Seriously, this is what I do on Friday evenings. I think about ridiculous stuff such as this. I thought of noble pursuits while my train drove through the Wilshire/Vermont and 7th Street/Metro stations this evening. Both these stations are Rat Race Central. This is where the suits embark and disembark at the platform. This is where all the pristine, respectable, ambitious people congregate. This is where people who really care about tomorrow crowd like white blood cells seeking to excise a metastatic invader. Here is where the people with especially noble pursuits flock and display their wares like proud peacocks, wearing the finest threads and carrying the finest leathers. They wear the finest hairstyles and the finest shoes. They care. They have many fucks to give.
In the midst of the noble pursuit mumbo jumbo, I recalled that the first post I ever wrote for this adventure in August, 2009, was entitled “Perish the noble pursuit.” Yes, the noble pursuit has come full circle!
I think of everyone and their noble pursuits. They are very noble because they are civilized and refined. Whereas my pursuit is a little more…base, perhaps? My pursuit is to attain a state in which I have as few fucks to give as possible. That’s what this mess is all about. I thought about that earlier while I watched the flood of corporate denizens float out the train car toward the corridors of downtown marbled respectability.
I admire those who have very, very few fucks to give. That should be our aim, our goal, as collective humanity. As a species. Minimize the fucks. Don’t accumulate fucks needlessly because you will find you can’t give them away fast enough and eventually, you will have so many fucks to give that you can’t dig your way out. The problem with fucks is that they breed like rabbits. One fuck begets another fuck. Next thing you know, you have a trailer full of fucks to give, and you are stuck in place because of their burdensome weight. You are buried alive by all the fucks you have to give.
I have an honorable, noble idea. Let’s work toward not having any fucks to give. I surely am.
I admire the person who has very few fucks to give.
Within reason, of course. That’s a precarious line we must straddle. The line of few fucks to no fucks to give. The natural state of a sane man is to have some fucks to give. After all, living and eating are some pretty important fucks to give. Beyond that, it gradually and exponentially becomes excessive. For many men, the measure of their self-worth and masculinity is measured in how many fucks they have to give. They are hypnotized with the illusion that an abundance of fucks to give is the penultimate definition of a valuable existence. On the other hand, the man who eschews all fucks most likely lives on the street or an insane asylum. Having no fucks to give is not a sane goal, it is not natural. Minimizing fucks to give is a more noble goal for it still acknowledges the drive to survive while keeping a wise concept of humility in hand. A glut of fucks to give can actually serve to dispense of humility and hides us from realizing our natural station in life. In fact, the more fucks we collect, the more insulated and alienated we become from nature and earth. We are addicted to fucks! We spend much of our youth training ourselves (and being trained) by the give-a-fuck institutions of civilization in order so we may grow up in order to voraciously gather as many fucks to give as possible. It’s mad!
My goal is to minimize the number of fucks I have to give and demonstrate the behavior of someone with very few fucks to give. I’m ostentatious when it comes to letting everyone know that I have very few fucks to give. I never used to be like this. It’s only with age and maturity that I find confidence and pride in flaunting my lack of fucks to people who are enslaved to their fucks. It’s very liberating. “Fuck your fucks” I want to yell! That is what this stupid blog is about. I should rename it “Fuck your Fucks.” That would be a beautiful name because it embodies my philosophy about the dead-end futility of our desire to pile fucks upon fucks in order so that we ultimately live for fucks to give. People want fucks to give or they feel empty. Don’t they get it? Having too many fucks to give is precisely what leads to emptiness. The emptiness of modern man, his hollow soul, are all attributable to his fascination with fucks to give.
Only by minimizing fucks to give can you ever be human. Fucks will mesmerize you and lead you down the path of slavery. The key is to act as if you have no fucks to give. Whether you really have them or not is not so important. I would venture to guess that there are people with many fucks to give who still act as if they don’t have one to spare, and there are also probably lots of other people who haven’t a single fuck in their possession but still act as if they are burdened with fucks to give. Perhaps it makes them feel important. It’s all in your attitude. It so happens that the law of averages dictates that those with many fucks to give will behave as people who have too many to give. If you prize your fucks, you will live and structure your life around the procurement and protection of the fucks you have. If you value your fucks, you don’t want to give them away. They are yours. You guard them greedily. You will hire lawyers, congressmen, advertisers, and other scumbags, to strengthen your grip on the fucks so you don’t have to give them away.
I admire men who truly act as if they have no fucks at all to give away. They are bold men who are tethered neither to possessions nor outcomes. This is the greatest thing about having no fucks to give. Such a man is freer than the wildest bird. A man who can integrate the no-fucks attitude into his soul is the epitome of power and brashness. We think of possessions like cars, houses, jewelry, televisions…yes, these do enslave us with too many fucks to give, but there are also intangible possessions, like reputation, honor, respect, which serve up more fucks for us to give. The man who can rise above such meaningless crap will be able to surrender so many fucks that he will feel much lighter as he is able to unload years of accumulated fucks which never let him breathe.
I want to be that man. The man who has many more fucks to give than you’d guess because he exudes the no-fucks attitude. Because he doesn’t really care, which is the core outlook of the no-fuck attitude. The more fucks the man is resolved to being able to live without, the better. Only in this manner will he not construct his life around the zealous safeguarding of his fucks.
Ultimately, the question that must be asked is this. If too much thought goes into not having fucks to give, are we not thus defeating the primary meaning of our no-fuck life which is to have no fucks to give? By deliberately and obsessively blueprinting one’s life to having no fucks to give, are we not in fact burdening ourselves with a fuck to give in itself? Would the person who truly has no fucks to give even think about this, or is it a luxurious thought experiment indulgence for those who can’t relinquish the mightiest fuck of all to give: the ego.