Posted by Andersen Richards
January 12, 2016
I spent a lot of time thinking about the Grinch this Christmas.
You know, they have three psychotic reasons why the Grinch was the way he was. First was that his head wasn’t screwed on just right, which basically means if people don’t like you, it’s because they’re malfunctioning. No one who was put together right wouldn’t like you or the Who’s. You’re just all so fucking incredible.
Then there’s that his shoes were too tight. Because if he doesn’t like you, he must be so stupid he can’t even buy shoes that fit him correctly. It would never occur to someone who doesn’t like you to just stop wearing the shoes that hurt so badly they caused them to be a suffering hermit. It also takes a swing at the poor, saying that poor people are curmudgeony because they can’t afford nice things, like shoes that fit, so they must be bitter, miserable people.
The last is that his heart is too small or, in other words, the Grinch is just morally inferior.
No one ever stops to say, “maybe it was because we wrote a song about how much we hate him and what a bad person he is?” No one ever says, “man, it’s that brutal, awful song we play every year that drove him into the mountains where he can still get a radio signal and hear about how much we utterly loathe that sea sick crocodile.”
There’s an “incentive”, which is a polite word for bounty, to anyone who brings me in to “discover what makes me different” from all these people who are getting sick. Which is a polite phrase for “turn him into a guinea pig”. Which may also be a swing at Italians, I don’t know. People who were supposed to be my friends ask me why I don’t turn myself in. I have been trying to rationalize everything, remind myself they don’t… appreciate… if I turn myself in I’ll never come back. My life won’t belong to me anymore. They tell me it will just be for a little bit, until they have what they need from me. Life doesn’t work like that. It just doesn’t.
In case it slipped your mind, they’re after my blood. There’s not a bounty on me so I can answer a questionnaire. That psychopath… that idiot… Rob attacked me, tore off my clothes. I don’t care what he was suffering from or what happened to him because of it. There’s no redeeming value in any of this for me.
People think the Grinch was a bad guy but I think maybe that’s what made him bad to begin. Why did he move up to the mountains? What was he running from? People like Rob or those idiotic Who’s? He bit my nipple off and ate it.
Rob not the Grinch.
Have you forgotten the first time you saw #EatADick?