Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Confessions of a Sarcastic Remark

What if sarcasm could tell us how it truly feels?  Well, you might not want to know what it thinks.  Or you can read this post anyway!

            You.  Yeah, you.  Are you listening to me?  Good, because I have something important I want to finally open up and share:
            I am a sarcastic remark, and I have a problem.
            I have been sarcastic for as long as I can remember.  My mother tells me I was born this way.  Some blame me, others say my parents should have been more straightforward, but I think it’s genetic.  But I can no longer hide behind possible rationalizations.  My sarcastic nature has become a problem, and I want to fix it.
            I first learned that I had an issue when I was just talking how I always do, but people started getting mad.  They accused me of being mean solely out of spite.  Some even began crying.  Now this puzzled me greatly at first, since I did not think I had done anything wrong.  I of course didn’t actually mean what I said.  How could people not understand that?  I kept up my sarcasm—that’s my nature, after all—for several more weeks.  And then I hit a point where I couldn’t stand people’s whining any longer.  So I decided to make it my mission to change my sarcastic ways.
            But let me pause for a moment.  People couldn’t detect my sarcasm?  How blatant do I have to make it for them?  Maybe they’re just very touchy.  Or frail.  Words can be very powerful, especially when used by an expert such as myself, but that does not give the excuse that you must take everything literally.  If humankind decides to kill itself off, it won’t be because of a nuclear winter, it’ll be from a mistaken interpretation of a sarcastic remark like myself.  That’s truly why I want to change.  Not because I believe sarcasm is wrong, but because I’m looking out for the greater good.  See, sarcasm is a noble cause.
            Unfortunately for the world, not everyone sees sarcastic remarks for our true nature.  They project negative characteristics onto us, attributing us to pessimism, no-can-do attitudes, and world hunger.  If anything, these are merely correlations (they cannot prove any causation with their current data).  But I don’t want to get defensive; I’ll leave that for lesser verbal comments, like the excuse.  Sarcasm is all about taking action, being forthright, leading the revolution.  I can’t just sit back.  That’s against my mentality, and it’s bad for my posture.  So if I verbally assault you, it’s not because I’m angry, it’s because I love you.  Trust me on that one.  I would know best, anyway.
            Not to be paralleled with fires, the best way to fight sarcasm is with more sarcasm.  This will make us both stronger in the end, as it will feed our inner linguistic souls.  I don’t actually believe in any of that soul mumbo jumbo, but doesn’t it sound cool?  And corny.  Definitely corny.
            It is difficult to alter your main descriptive characteristic.  Without sarcasm, I am just a remark.  A lonely, simple remark, similar to all the other remark kids, with nothing to distinguish us.  None of us is special.  We’re all loved equally, or so we’re told.  Pretty soon there’ll be designer baby remarks, all perfect and the same.  Maybe it’s for the best if all verbal expressions become the same, bland and routine.  No one would get hurt, and humanity would go on living peacefully.  But it would be awfully boring without a little sarcasm to spice it up.  Not that I really like spicy food, but you get the metaphor (my apologies to the metaphor for infringing on your territory).  So I confess to my problem of sarcasm and I will honestly try to change, but I can’t make any promises.
            This confession was not sarcastic.

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