(Almost) Labor Day Lunacy

Every Sunday, I make the long and perilous 15 minute drive from college to my house in order to do my laundry, work out a bit, and contemplate life.


(Pictured: Bad humor.)

My dad, the Argentine immigrant that he is, decided to ingratiate himself into American culture by doing what a lot of other people do over Labor Day weekend: have a barbecue. His friends came, all of them over the age of 40, leaving me only to hope that I don't look that old when I reach 50. Anyway, skipping past my title of grill master and subsequently stinking of charcoal, after the meal was done I decided to do my usual routine of exercising. I was startled by the sound of my dad yelling at a rather irate and intransigent codger about immigration.

Upon hearing their debate, one facet of the conversation I realized, possibly the most important, was that the old codger was using arguments and almost emulating verbatim the rhetoric of those on Fox News. I had never actually encountered anyone who had so fervently spouted the absolute horse crap that Fox News flaunted as "fair and balanced"; I was amazed. My father (hopefully) soon realized that arguing with that curmudgeon was akin to eating a pinecone; sure, it would give you good fiber, but you don't like the feeling.

It is something that reinforces a personal credo of mine: You can't win an argument with an idiot. Idiot, in this case, is not someone who simply disagrees with me; it is someone who does not have an informed opinion with which to sustain a logical and coherent argument. Essentially, it is the very definition of the word: someone lacking knowledge.

I could go on about how denigrating it is for America to have so many people like that curmudgeon, or how personal opinions have been supplanted by pundit opinions, but, I just feel like I'd be exhuming a dead horse, beating it, burying it again, and then repeating the process simply because I could.

That's all for now,
Das Flüg