Why am I drawn to such sad and tragic endings?
Ever since I can remember, I’ve always preferred the unhappy ending. I always favored the sly evil of Little Red Riding Hood or Jack & Jill’s broken crowns or Hansel and Gretel’s festive servings.
Forget the joyous and heart-felt good-natured Disney bullshit. I hate Disney and its tales of hapless optimism. Bunch of garbage. Women eat up Disney. They eat up happy endings and riding off into the sunset. Just like they love Love at First Sight. Womankind, the great fantasist, fetishist, the romantic and the poetic. Womankind devours happy endings and the unrealistic garbage that enables them.
It’s not that I’m a pessimist. Not in the least. I believe most is in our control and we posses the capablity of turning dire situations into treasures if we would just get off our ass, work hard, and sacrifice. It’s simple. The exemplary life is not handed to us. Even if you are born with a sterling silver spoon in your mouth, you must continue to fulfill the promise of your genetic riches or you’ll get drawn right into that smorgasbord of ill-fated self-chosen downward spiral of destiny’s. Nah, the pessimist believes life and fate are fucking him over. In other words, life is out of his hands and dictated by the ruthless and evil shenanigans of a great Controller. Like most religious freaks. The pessimist believes that no matter how hard you work, how hard you toil and sweat, the outcome of your personal script is inevitably steered by another writer’s hands.
Fuck that. You assemble your life, you assemble your future.
And fuck optimism and that pedantic sort of fixation on gleaning joy and wonder from life’s stupid-ass rigors that Disney Chicks suckle.
That is the kind of garbage that is the opposite of pessimism. Yet, I won’t call it optimism. Optimism believes that hard work, an animated spirit and a vigorous enthusiasm are rewarded with auspicious events. No, the opposite of pessimism which these Disney wenches are guilty of is blind glory.
Blind glory is an empty triumphalism. It celebrates a life in search of nothing. Blind Glory is hollow and born of deceit, usually self-deceit, and as such, is not bolstered by trial and tribulation. It is cosmetic happiness. If a woman can get a boob job or a lap band and act as if she has mastered fate, so to can she easiliy revel in the phoniness of a contrived happy ending.
Fuck happy endings.