THE ART OF SARCASM

Some e-cards is probably not a good way to introduce this topic since their cards are fairly witty and enjoyable, while I am beginning to question whether by using sarcasm, I am actually not saying anything useful at all.   

Let me give a better example of what I mean:

Person A:  I just lost my job and realized my skirt has a rip in it.  
Me: Niiiiiiiiiice.  

Or see:

Person B: *burps*
Me: (looking over) Good one.

As you will doubtless have noticed, I am pretty useless in these scenarios.  This was not apparent to me until my friend pointed out that sarcasm is an American characteristic. Sometimes the words mean nothing, sometimes they mean the opposite of what the speaker actually means, and sometimes people use it to create this facade of jaded sophistication.  

What concerns me is that by using sarcasm I’m actually copping out of saying anything meaningful or sincere.  I am one small step above that person my friend E calls “the placeholder.”  This type of person likes to go to parties, where they will stand in a circle of friends and laugh at everyone else’s jokes or witty remarks and appear friendly and nice.  However, this person never contributes anything to the conversation, and is hence, “a placeholder.”  

I myself have nothing against “the placeholder,” I just don’t want to be that person.  In that same vein, I would like to hold myself to either higher standards of sarcasm (a la Some Ecards), or to contribute something that involves flexing my brain.  Just a little.    

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The Ideal v. The Real

Before I died, I thought I might want to add one more post to this blog, hence I will introduce  my “Ideal Self.”  Sometimes, an Ideal Self can make you feel bad about the person you actually are, because your Ideal is…well…perfect, and you, in contrast, are not.  For example, my Ideal Self would have daily posts that she did not agonize over, they would inspire people to better their lives whilst also being self-deprecating, and yet she would still be attractive and photogenic (Note the lack of a photo.  That is not a mistake).  

I prefer to be amused by my concept of an Ideal Self, a person entirely of my own invention, and the complete contrast between her savoir faire, and my rather blah existence.  

My Ideal Self rides a classic Dutch style bicycle around town, helping to preserve the environment along with her lean physique and toned triceps.  If you have ever ogled most cyclists’ triceps, you have a fairly good idea what I mean.  For reference purposes, I have included what I visualize as her beautiful bicycle.  For gratuitous purposes, I have also attached a picture of my own bicycle, where it has sat for over a year, locked to the banister by the side of the stairs because that thing weighs too damn much for me to bother hauling up and down every single day.   It costs me $40 at target many years ago, and you get what you pay for.  Most days I take the bus, and when I’m feeling particularly cheap, I walk.  

At some point in my life, I will allow someone to steal my bicycle, and then go on Craigslist and hopefully purchase a bike that actually belongs to the owner.    var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push([‘_setAccount’, ‘UA-38185031-1’]); _gaq.push([‘_trackPageview’]); (function() { var ga = document.createElement(‘script’); ga.type = ‘text/javascript’; ga.async = true; ga.src = (‘https:’ == document.location.protocol ? ‘https://ssl’ : ‘http://www’) + ‘.google-analytics.com/ga.js’; var s = document.getElementsByTagName(‘script’)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();