The rampant “woo” girls releasing their tribal war cry or the monotone expletives of guys in faux-designer jeans wishing passersby a “Happy fuggin New Year’s;” paper top hats at the jauntiest of angles; oh, and how can we forget the seemingly endless supply of $5 Walgreens “fizz.”
Who doesn’t love New Year’s? People living recklessly with bad alcohol, cheap sparkly clothes and as though the stroke of midnight would incite the rapture.
Pee on a dog? Who cares! Gonna die tomorrow.
Throw up on that cop car? Duh, jail doesn’t exist in the New Year.
People run around making bad decisions on a daily basis. So, it comes as no surprise when those poor decision makers are let loose on a reasonably braced city to let the governor on their poor decision making tap loose.
Things get weird.
But, what is it about our brazen attempt to forego reason and good sense to perform the idiotic and harmful on December 31st? This self-serving collision course with doom only perpetuates the fact that we as a society, as a country of over-stuffed, over-stimulated and under-worked individuals believe we are entitled to life, therefore let us throw caution to that stern wind.
Drunk driving, picking fights and further acts of random stupidity are only briefly touching on the rancour I feel for the bonehead masses that act like outright Neanderthals on New Year’s Eve. You aren’t the one wading through your seas of vomit in the mornings. Nor are you the one that plays hopscotch with the skimpy ladies underwear and Miller’s Outpost sweaters discarded on the sidewalk.
We invented technology to send people to the Moon; cars to break the sound barrier; burritos to be made in the microwave, and yet we feel the need to revert back to our animal instincts when a national holiday presents itself.
Must consume. After consume, I procreate. After procreate, must empty stomach on sidewalk.
Americans, you pride yourself on being the most advanced and civilized nation in the world. Our arrogance knows no bounds, and yet you puke in the streets more than a nation suffering from a dysentery outbreak. You jump off things; you make wild unintelligible noises that leave archaeologists baffled and you do it all with the belief that you may live under your own rules. No government can contain you. You are Batman, all of you. But, larger than that, you live in the bizarre world that you can dictate the rules on death.
Jumping out of a cab will kill you.
Picking a fight with scary people, will kill you.
Impressing strangers with you alcohol consumption will kill you.
Being an idiot will kill you.
Simply being an American will not keep you alive. Neither will your designer suspenders.