A month from now, if all goes as planned, I’ll be in Northeast Wisconsin celebrating my niece’s wedding. And by “celebrating” I mean refusing to do the Chicken Dance, patiently explaining to the caterer that “vegan” does not simply mean “less Velveeta,” and trying to keep pace with a horde of professional drinkers (aka Wisconsinites) who were gradually weaned off Jägermeister as babies before being moved onto solid food.
If it’s possible to experience culture shock in a state you called home for several decades, that’s what I’ll be doing. And I’ll be diving right back into old family patterns and dynamics, to boot.
Sadly, I don’t always agree with my family. Many of them have been, shall we say, casual about COVID-19 precautions, whereas I saw the pandemic as a chance to fulfill my lifelong dream of dropping out of society while still somehow having unfettered access to Jujyfruits.
In short, I haven’t seen any of them in person since the pandemic started, and I fear we’ll have trouble finding common ground. If we stick to neutral topics—like, say, the fact that raccoons exist or that humans as a rule should embrace object permanence—we should be more or less okay.
Beyond that, I’m not so sure.
Here’s a short—though by no means exhaustive—list of some of the things one or more of my family members currently believe:
And that’s just the tip of the very large iceberg I’m currently steaming toward.
So what to do? I’m actually looking forward to this trip—though with a certain amount of trepidation. I’ve known my niece her entire life, with the exception of the first few weeks after she was born and that time I got so stoned I thought I was the quintessential onion dip from Plato’s World of Forms.
One option? Establish a “no politics” rule early on. That’s worked for me before in mixed company when I knew at least one Trumpite was among us. Another option? Back up my no-politics rule with an “I said no politics, fuckface” addendum.
The only other workable option I can envision is spending the entire weekend in heated arguments with people who currently get their talking points from the Kremlin. Or canceling the trip—which I really don’t want to do.
So what do you think? How about we crowdsource this? Do any of you have tips for avoiding political/religious/other kinds of clashes while celebrating joyful milestones with family members?
I mean, there will be blood—almost certainly, anyway. I don’t think I can avoid it entirely. If I know my family like I know I know my family, they will try to draw me into political melees. And I’m too tired of right-wing fucknuttery to want to engage with them on these topics this time around. Or ever again, for that matter.
So what do you say? What’s a beta cuck soy boy to do in the face of unchecked aggression? Let me know in the comments, if you please.
Check out Aldous J. Pennyfarthing’s four-volume Trump-trashing compendium, including the finale, Goodbye, Asshat: 101 Farewell Letters to Donald Trump, at this link. Or, if you prefer a test drive, you can download the epilogue to Goodbye, Asshat for the low, low price of FREE.
If it’s possible to experience culture shock in a state you called home for several decades, that’s what I’ll be doing. And I’ll be diving right back into old family patterns and dynamics, to boot.
Sadly, I don’t always agree with my family. Many of them have been, shall we say, casual about COVID-19 precautions, whereas I saw the pandemic as a chance to fulfill my lifelong dream of dropping out of society while still somehow having unfettered access to Jujyfruits.
In short, I haven’t seen any of them in person since the pandemic started, and I fear we’ll have trouble finding common ground. If we stick to neutral topics—like, say, the fact that raccoons exist or that humans as a rule should embrace object permanence—we should be more or less okay.
Beyond that, I’m not so sure.
Here’s a short—though by no means exhaustive—list of some of the things one or more of my family members currently believe:
- Masks are useless against COVID-19, and anyone who tells you to wear one is a “mask Nazi.”
- The COVID-19 vaccines will eventually kill or severely maim anyone who took one.
- Russia is trying to “de-Nazify” Ukraine.
- Ukraine is the most corrupt country in the world.
- Ronald Reagan was the greatest president of all time.
- The Epoch Times is a trustworthy news source, and the mainstream media does nothing but lie.
- Donald Trump was a good president (one of my spies spotted a “Don’t Blame Me, I Voted for Trump” sticker on the bumper of one family member’s car).
- Tucker Carlson hosts the best show on Fox—which, granted, is not the high praise this person thinks it is but is terrifying nonetheless.
And that’s just the tip of the very large iceberg I’m currently steaming toward.
So what to do? I’m actually looking forward to this trip—though with a certain amount of trepidation. I’ve known my niece her entire life, with the exception of the first few weeks after she was born and that time I got so stoned I thought I was the quintessential onion dip from Plato’s World of Forms.
One option? Establish a “no politics” rule early on. That’s worked for me before in mixed company when I knew at least one Trumpite was among us. Another option? Back up my no-politics rule with an “I said no politics, fuckface” addendum.
The only other workable option I can envision is spending the entire weekend in heated arguments with people who currently get their talking points from the Kremlin. Or canceling the trip—which I really don’t want to do.
So what do you think? How about we crowdsource this? Do any of you have tips for avoiding political/religious/other kinds of clashes while celebrating joyful milestones with family members?
I mean, there will be blood—almost certainly, anyway. I don’t think I can avoid it entirely. If I know my family like I know I know my family, they will try to draw me into political melees. And I’m too tired of right-wing fucknuttery to want to engage with them on these topics this time around. Or ever again, for that matter.
So what do you say? What’s a beta cuck soy boy to do in the face of unchecked aggression? Let me know in the comments, if you please.
Check out Aldous J. Pennyfarthing’s four-volume Trump-trashing compendium, including the finale, Goodbye, Asshat: 101 Farewell Letters to Donald Trump, at this link. Or, if you prefer a test drive, you can download the epilogue to Goodbye, Asshat for the low, low price of FREE.