Mankind has a long and diverse track record of inventing things that are horrible. Be it the latest sniper rifle that can shoot through ten feet of solid concrete or the DVD Rewinder, no physical object can match the basic flaws in the mind of the species that is responsible for them in the first place. The most irksome to me is perhaps political correctness, an invention of man that can be placed in the same category as war and money. Anyone that gets angry at something runs the risk of offending people, so let's try and remove the very language that expresses anger and all use Newspeak instead. I'd say that the people that stand for censorship are gray, lifeless parasites that exist only to attach themselves to creativity itself and gain momentary glimpses of pleasure from knowing that they're making the world worse, but all I can say is that they're doubleplusungood and hope they become unpersons in the near future.

What's really terrifying is when this carries over into other areas of daily life. The next time you step foot in a supermarket, stop for a second and listen to the type of music that's playing throughout the store. Chances are it's going to be a song that's a slight improvement on elevator music. Something so dull that it will serve as an acceptable subliminal background noise, but just bad enough that anyone having to actually work in the store and hear it looped every four hours is likely to list it as one of the reasons why they quit on future job applications. The managers were fine, it was a good work environment and you got along well with the customers, but hearing Mmmbop by Hanson played three times every day put you in such a bad mood that the only way to cheer yourself up was to hear a small child crying to their mother about not getting a Snickers bar. As soon as those tears and screams begin, it's like trumpets of heaven stripping away the noise pollution and replacing it with the immensely satisfying sadness of a small, innocent creature.

This is for obvious reasons. Some fucker in marketing would tell you that people buy more from the store when there's soft rock playing, and I would dissect every element of that person's life just so that I could find more things to justify my limitless hatred of them. Just once, I would like to go into Ralphs to buy my single gallon of milk and hear death metal playing over the intercom, then stick around for the rest of the song to hear the customers saying how they're offended by the lyrics about sodomizing the corpses they dug up from the local graveyard, and would rather listen to Sheryl Crow instead. I don't even like death metal, but it would be such a surprise that I would buy more useless shit just out of respect. Anything to kick me out of my auto-pilot and brighten up my day just by knowing that there's someone high up in that company that isn't named Ron and doesn't yell at employees for not wearing name tags while working a job that doesn't require customers to ever acknowledge your presence.

The mentality we have isn't a positive thing in any real sense, only in an artificial sense. It breeds the sort of people that go to work, smile at Bob and greet him good day, then say "I fucking hate that guy" once he's too far away to hear. I want to be able to tell Bob that I'd like to tie him to a chair and beat him repeatedly with a metal bat and not feel like I'm breaking some important code of society. I want to tell the soccer mom that her children are not special, and that by having six of them she's doing nothing but contributing to overpopulation. That your band sucks, and that your office job means your use in life is limited to being an organ donor. That everything you have ever done, thought of doing, and ever will do in the future is wrong. That your life is meaningless, that your dream of becoming the assistant manager does nothing but show what a boring idiot you really are, and that there is no more hope in the world for you. The person on the receiving end would greet this with "Yeah, well fuck you," and Earth would be a better place to live.

This is but another dream in a long line of dreams that will never happen. We need to be courteous and respectful to each other, and instead of having your cashiers tell the annoying customers that they should be subjected to scaphism, the proper policy is to say "We're terribly sorry that we can't help you at this moment, but we sincerely hope that you'll continue to shop at our fine establishment in the future." Not in my store. I would train my cashiers that the proper response to a customer arguing that their coupon for 30 cents off their chocolate chip corn dogs isn't expired would be "GET OUT! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FUCKING STORE! DRIVE BACK TO YOUR GATED COMMUNITY IN YOUR H2 WITH THE ROMNEY 08 STICKER ON IT AND JACK OFF TO THE O'REILLY FACTOR LIKE YOU DO EVERY NIGHT, THEN CURL UP IN YOUR FUCKING RECLINER BY THE FIREPLACE WHILE LISTENING TO RUSH LIMBAUGH ON TAPE AND THINKING ABOUT HOW YOU ENJOY BEING EVERYTHING WRONG WITH HUMANITY! YOU FILTHY, OBESE, PRO-LIFE MORON, GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FUCKING STORE RIGHT FUCKING NOW!"

My business would probably suffer a bit, but it would be worth it. Raises will be given to any employee that manages to make a customer say anything along the lines of "You're right, I've been putting too much importance on saving trivial amounts of money, and there's no excuse for buying these in the first place. Thank you for making me realize what a fool I've been." I'll have a terrible reputation in terms of customer service, but be number one in customer enlightenment. Enjoy your money, Albertsons, I deal in the trade of ideas.

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I turned this in to my English class as the weekly freewrite, not changed in any way. I'm anxious to see what comments my teacher writes on it.