Sunday, February 12, 2017

Your Writing Speaks for Itself, Except When it Doesn't

One of the things I've learned the hard way after three years of writing this blog is that I will always--ALWAYS--offend someone. I'll do it by cursing. I'll do it with my "vulgarity." I'll do it by being accidentally insensitive or joking about serious topics like dying, religion, or vaccines. 

I've even done it to my own father. My dad has called me up numerous times to lecture me about something I wrote on here that he felt misrepresented him or made him look bad. I'm sure he'll even be mad at me for saying that. That's why I don't mention people by name or in any way that could identify them without seeking their permission first, and because I know that the line between funny, sad, and uncomfortable is always blurry and different for different people. 

Today's post about dying in an avalanche triggered (no pun intended) several backcountry skiing folks who I guess know someone or several someones who died in avalanches recently, and they sent me numerous newspaper articles to scold/shame me about it. Of course I don't know these people and am not part of their scene, because as I said, I am not cool enough for that, which was the entire point of the original post to begin with. 

So then I went back and wrote a whole long disclaimer, which I rarely do, because if I modified a blog post every time someone had a problem with its contents, I would never write anything.

It's never my intention to be insensitive to an individual, particularly strangers who I don't even know. But I also can't let other people's sensitivities dictate what I write, not even those of my own parents, or again, I might as well delete the whole fucking thing.

This blog has been around long enough that most people know what they're going to get when they read it. Just like backcountry skiing, reading this blog might make you uncomfortable and comes with a risk of injury, albeit psychological as opposed to physical.

But I believe in the Golden Rule, which is why the biggest target of mockery on this blog is me. With the sole exception of Donald Trump, there is no one--NO ONE--I make fun of, insult, criticize, or try to offend on this blog more than myself.

So no matter how I die--in an avalanche, a car accident, a tsunami, by tripping down the stairs, or in my sleep--it's my deepest and most profound wish for someone to laugh about it when I do. 

And I really meant it: I doubt it will be an avalanche, because I am truly not cool enough to be in that situation.


  1. Reading jokes about serious topics is such a relief for me. Don't change a thing. Please.

  2. I joke that my last words will be "Oh Shit" because my demise will likely be in an accident, disaster, or bear attack.


Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.