Neckbeard Spotlight: Nice-Guy Syndrome

I’ve been avoiding this one for awhile because it’s more than neckbeards who have “nice-guy” syndrome. Basically ANY guy who is friends with a girl has this common disorder when he thinks that girl, based on being supportive and friendly to her, should now be dating them. You see it occasionally in women, but girls typically get themselves friendzoned on purpose, and usually because they want it to be incredibly undeniably clear to a guy that there are no romantic feelings. Thus, we’ll proceed on from here with the assumption that the guy is the one suffering from this horrible affliction.

Morrrrrpheus

Couldn’t have said it more succinctly myself… so i’ll not be succinct. (source: knowyourmeme.com)

You may be asking, if it’s so common, why is it being discussed as a Neckbeard Spotlight?

Another one bites the dust!

A typical encounter (source: alligator-sunglasses.com)

Okay, take all of the nice guys you can think of, and remove the neckbeards. The first thing you’ll probably notice is that while they are all friendzoned, they are all quiet about it. It’s typically some other loudmouthed friend that reminds you that Derek is probably into you, and that’s why he picked you up at 2 am from your boyfriend’s house after that fight. Same scenario as before, but remove everyone but the neckbeards: ta-da! recipe for loud neckbeardy ranting. Neckbeards suffer from a special kind of “victim’s special” nice-guy syndrome. While all nice guys believe they are the nicest guy, neckbeards believe it further, but are less willing to be an actual nice guy. They are the hypochondriacs of nice guy syndrome.

A nice guy will drive you around, bring you flowers, talk to you when you’re lonely and then keep soldiering on, waiting for you to come to the realization you need to be with him… with a neckbeard, you get one of the three, and a sudden eruption of slut-virgin shame ranting when you don’t immediately get naked and have sex with the walking ground beef taco yelling at you. Like many other neckbeard characteristics, they get ideas from modern media, employ them inexpertly, and then wonder why it is not working.

Nice-guy syndrome is more of a cycle than it is a disorder. It always consists of three main parts:

– Objectification & Bargaining

– Payment

– Rebuke & Denial

The cycle always starts with objectification. The nice guy sees a girl he likes, and breaks down the person into values. For example, if the girl is the head cheerleader, and you’re the captain of the D&D club, she may be out of your price range. But if the girl has the same interests as you, and you can at least carry on a conversation, then she is buyable; that is, you think you can win her affection, even if it is clear that she does not think about you in a romantic way. This is how every relationship starts out, but the nice guy actually does see the girl as someone to conquer or own, not to enjoy spending time with all of the time. That isn’t to say the guy doesn’t like hanging out with the girl, in fact they may both enjoy each other’s company.

If you don't have the guts to ask for a date, she doesn't have the time to entertain even considering it.

That’s just logic!! (Source: glipho.com)

In the neckbeard version of this stage, there is no “bargaining”, per se. The neckbeard considers himself to have the “finances” to own any girl; he’s obviously the best pick in the land! This “irrefutable” logic isn’t even broken when the neckbeard considers why he isn’t covered in women demanding constant coitus. Oftentimes, they are convinced that the women don’t know what’s good for them, and if the cheerleader or valedictorian won’t sleep with them, then they are just denying themselves what they really need or want. The bargaining that does occur at this stage is thus picking which woman will receive the gift of enlightenment (that is, which poor lady is gonna get the creep-on). The cheerleader is a “slut”, and the valedictorian is a “virgin”, so neither of them are often picked. The case is usually made for the poor girl doing average at work, or the nice girl who isn’t super popular and always has time to entertain but not engage on a neckbeard’s silly commentary on why Joss Whedon should be president.

Next is payment. For the typical nice guy, this comes in the all-too familiar form of offering rides, hanging out, small meaningful gifts and being supportive in general, without making it clear at any point in time that they are there to try to date you. You know, the point at which a woman typically thinks, “hmm, this guy is nice but doesn’t seem interested in being more than friends… so now he’s one forever!” Trying to change the game at this point is, well, pointless, because this is where the crucial mistakes are made. You would think simply asking a girl on a date and having her turn you down would take less time and be far more ethical than invading a girl’s trust. Tsk.

Don't let them fool you! The enemy is here!

Typical makeup of the common nice-guy breed. (source: holipsism.com)

For neckbeards, this period is the rough and brutal stage. While a non-neckbeard takes time, does things carefully, and gradually builds up a security net out of the friendzone net they’ve been trapped in, the neckbeard actually does what a normal guy would; he tries to go on a date. But instead of being a normal date situation, the neckbeard has figured out the creepiest possible way to create instant romance. They’ll follow you to a party, and then wait for you to get drunk and make a move on your panties. Or they’ll offer you a ride… but not take you home immediately and have some long, euphamism-heavy talk about going back to their basement and enjoying some role-playing games on the way. Or, something I’ve been personally a victim of, the patented “You’re going out to eat with an actual guy friend, hey my mom gave me twenty bucks, I’ll buy you dinner” move and then get drunk on cheap whiskey he snuck in his trenchcoat to your apartment and claim that both of you getting naked and hooking up is part of the “date” you’ve been unwittingly pulled into, and then hear him gurgle all night on the otherside of your locked bedroom door… ewwww. It still gives me the creeps.

To be clear, you are a fat fuck.

Textbook neckbeard nice-guy. (source: ohdearism.com)

 The good part is that it’s fast. They make the moves, one even more ridiculous than the last, and then they sit back and wait. And they wait. And they wait. Because they’re getting their ass restraining-ordered. Neckbeard nice-guys are so confident that their overt show of masculinity worked that they don’t even bother with long-term friendzones (which is just as well, since they often don’t even make that level). Eventually, if they are focused, they will occasionally check in, and since these will often be on the assumption that you are swimming in affection for their… whatever, their next goal, should they feel the need for it, is to show that they are, indeed, an important person. This is so that you feel inferior and will try to pursue them. You might already know it, of course *cue laugh track* but the lesson needs to be driven in. Get ready for the onslaught of texts about D&D, LARPing in the park, and getting drunk on warm beer in someone’s mom’s basement. If you’re lucky you’ll get the rare “dapper” (again, I kid) neckbeard who is convinced that mi’lady will be impressed by the slew of college ballroom dancing classes he’s taken, and that you’ll be swooning below his sweat-stained fedora’d brow soon, and hopefully in front of other witnesses.

Whenever I see a guy describe himself as a "real man", I cringe a little.

Oh god. (source: deadwildroses.wordpress.com)

 At some point the neckbeard feels that they’ve done enough. They’ve shown you what a nice, caring, “biologically-superior” person they are. They’ve shared their opinion on sluts, cheaters, skanks, virgins, prudes, bitches, etc., and how all of them have somehow managed to miss out on the opportunity now given to you. And if you haven’t turned it down yet, this is where you take the chance the curb stomp it. For days to weeks, you been harassed by this smelly, pretentious asshole who is convinced you owe him somehow by just being a woman and him doing a “nice” thing. If you are actively seeking romance, this guy has probably gotten in the middle of those plans. You avoid certain areas, both private and public, on the off-chance that he might be there, and you would have to deal with him. And it’s a neckbeard, too; neckbeards are the kind of people who don’t think rape exists, and will sexually assault you with the notion that if it’s there, it’s meant to be taken advantage of. Any encounters where you are both alone is probably nerve-wracking, if not outright dangerous. So you give him all you got, verbally speaking, and try your best to shred his emotions right then and there. And I’m sorry to say it, but it won’t make a difference. This is still a case of nice-guy syndrome, and neckbeard level at that. It’s a cycle, not because a girl has never told him this, but because there is something mentally wrong there, keeping him believing that he’s done nothing to offend you (in fact he believes he’s played his cards well), and you are somehow flawed not to see that. You obviously don’t like “nice guys” and will only date assholes, so their time is ultimately not worth spending on feeling sad about the whole thing. Thus, the rebuke and denial part of the cycle.

How about now?

They missed a few things here in the visual, but the description is pretty dead-on (Source: giandujakiss.dreamwidth.org)

In the vanilla case, the guy enters a stage of depression. This can last for either a short or long time, depending on the level of commitment put forward. This is where normal guys break out of the cycle, usually because someone or something finally gets the guy to realize that this is not how you get a girlfriend. The neckbeard enters a state of rage, instead. To them, the girl has wasted their time. You owe them, and if it isn’t going to be in the form of reciprocated affection, it’s, as my mom would say, going to get whooped out of you. Neckbeards thrive on superiority, so any failings you may have, or mistakes you may make, or anything negative that may happen to you will be massively appreciated by them. Instead of letting “things balance out” as we all like to believe when someone does something bad (and then something bad happens to them), neckbeards take a more active role. Most often it’s in the form of slut-shaming. If you go on a date with anyone else, you’re immediately a harlot, and everyone needs to know.  If you get a new job, and he’s around, he’ll sit down and tell everyone something awful about you, regardless of whether it’s true or not. God forbid he’s a mechanic and you need your oil changed (which I doubt, mechanics are either old and crusty, or hot and sexy, and fedoras aren’t exactly allowed on the job).

Luckily, everyone is NOT under the spell of the neckbeard. Anything they say is not taken seriously (except by other neckbeards, and let’s face it, no one cares about them), so you just have to deal with it. Once you survive the rage portion (unfortunately not everyone does), then things will die down, and another neckbeard will step forward to take their place. The ultimate good news is that it gets easier and easier to tell what they’re doing before they go on rages. You can get to the point where you’ll easily nip this shit in the bud, and then be free to find some sexy mechanics to check the fluids on your car.

I should go get my oil changed…

Bam! Useful AND grooms himself!

Aw yisssss. (Source: http://www.pinterest.com)

 

Doodles

Back when I used to be a TA for a problem session class, I had to give 15 minute quizzes each and every week. My policy was to pick them up at the end of the quiz, rather than have 40 little knuckleheads tripping over each other to hand it in while others were still taking the quiz. So some students had to sit there, quiz in hand, until time was over. Instead of reviewing their answers, like good students, some would simply drawing on their quiz. These are their doodles *DUM DUM*.

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Badly drawn PANTHERS LOGO! So patriotic.

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Sword or BDSM dildo? The world may never know…

 

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These are not letters, student. You are failing the alphabet.

 

 

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Future Garbage Pail Kids artist.

 

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You got this! You can fail! Just like your parents failed you in life!

 

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Sir, I’m afraid you’ve drawn testicular cancer. Or… a testicle with a bunch of spider eggs all over it. Either way, equally frightening.

 

 

IMG_0753Japanese Tentacle Time! With whatever the hell this is!

 

 

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This person must do a lot of drugs. Or listen to ICP. Or both.

 

 

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Kids, drugs are bad.

 

 

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Josh pines for simple silent brunettes and eyeballs. We put people in special hospitals for this.

 

 

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Hmmmmmmm…..

 

 

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NOT AFTER YOU GET YOUR GRADE BACK, YOU WON’T!

 

 

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When writing in cursive, remember that there are two m’s in the alphabet.

 

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JESSE! He’s got a corVETTE and COOL TATTOOS! ROCK GOD!

 

 

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Wrong, wrong, F–.

 

 

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No, you scored a 55, learn your numbers!

 

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Oh of course you get a 100 A+++, grumpy badly-drawn snails are my favorite!

 

 

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Battlemage, or cross-dressing knight? YOU BE THE JUDGE!

 

 

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I appreciate that students feel my opinion on their shitty t-shirt designs is needed, but I wish they didn’t sneak them in on quizzes and subject me to the terror of finding them on the back.

 

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Yes, please feel free to do the question wrong but turn the figure given for the problem into a double-headed cat-raccoon monster.

 

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Hmmmmmmmmmm…………

 

 

IMG_0777Jesse. He’s got a mustache…

 

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Ovary/Fallopian tube monster. Okay.

 

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I already told you that’s not gonna work, buddy!

 

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This is just silly, that snowman would melt in the hot paper sun.

 

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Oh no! How can I possibly grade a paper belonging to a BEAR!

Neckbeard Spotlight: The Brony

I googled “Doug” and this came up, no massaging results or anything. Intersectionality within the neckbeard community is alive and well!

When you talk with your friends (or yourself, I’m sure you’ve got a good banter in your alone time) about cartoons you watched when you were a kid, it’s often the case, or at least it is with me, that I find myself wanting to watch them again. But it is always the case that you realize how (a) completely fucked up it is or (b) it’s as intelligent as a diaper-wearing rock. It’s the fucked up ones that stick with you though; our generation is wholly beholden to some Ren & Stimpy, Rocko’s Modern Life, and Courage the Cowardly Dog (not an extensive list), but sometimes you get bleed-through from the ilk of Ed, Edd, and Eddy, Pokemon, and other bullshit (Doug was awful, guys, it was AWFUL!).

So let’s say you’re a cartoon network (oh shit I just felt an eerie wind blow through here when I typed that… spooky) exec at a pitch meeting and someone says “Hey, let’s forget the kids, they will watch literally ANYTHING. Let’s focus on the 20-30 somethings. Let’s remake something.” First, this is true; kids will watch a show about chopping wood with as much vigor as a cartoon squirrel on an adventure. As a former child, I can confirm this. Second, we are an empowered generation. We control trends, and spending, and if we don’t like something, it’s not worth producing it. If something catches our eyes, it will be enough to fund making it.

It would be impossible to recreate the magic that is Dexter’s Lab, but Transformers? Thundercats? Psssh, gimme a weekend. Which is how long it probably took to make the Transformers movie.

So right now we got a lot of remakes popping up, trying to sell themselves to us, desperately trying to tap into our spending power. One of which is My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.

Or should I say Friendzone Magic? Friendzone Blueballs? They should hire me to write TV.

Annnnnyway, neckbeards fell RIGHT into the huge gaping trap the rest of us saw coming. And it spoke to them, like the gaping maw of an ancient sent to instruct them on how to beat the friendzone and win mi’lady. And the network execs rejoiced, for this is really the demo they were aiming for.

Well, you’re 20% something more now!

Neckbeards are impossibly hard to impress. If it’s not hardcore enough, or inside enough, or pandering to them enough (or japanese enough; idk what it is, but they be lovin’ that shit) it’s not worth their time, which makes about nearly 0% of all media accessible to them. Unless it’s from Japan, then it’s 100%. But if they do find something that they love, they put their full force into it, and given their steady diet of Mountain Dew and Dorito Taco Locos from Taco Bell (I still don’t get this one, so gross), it’s a lot of force. Money spent on merch. Constant internet buzz = free advertising. Fucking CONS, man! It can fuel an entire industry.

So MLP: Lovecraft is Magic was their saviour, on both sides of the fence. It’s a show about ponies, who discover friendship magic, and have small adventures. I could have written this on the back of a pizza box (speaking of, where is that Mellow Mushroom box, I had the pilot for Funky Cat Brigade written on it… oh well, here’s a napkin, let’s get crackin’).

The train set! My birthday is complete!

But here’s the part where it makes lots of money:

No actual adult will watch something like that, much less spend money on it: Check for the “Too Inside” box.

The ponies are magic! They have hard to find merch! There is a competitive side to this! Check for the “Too Hardcore” box.

The point of the show is friendship, and being open and caring and loving everyone, and everyone deserves multiple second chances at life, even if they are fucking smelly and hateful and rant about you on the internet. Check for the “pandering” box.

At first we here at TASM,ATIAL (don’t worry, I’m never using that acronym again) thought this was doctored. But it wasn’t. It’s real. This happened.

And there’s pony porn. Check for the “Japan!” box.

Sorry again Japan, you’ve been getting the hits on this blog lately :/

The show is not what you would call a “good” show. Funnily enough, I don’t even think kids like it. But that doesn’t matter, now that they have their money source: the neckbeards, who now call themselves Brony.

Now they have the internet buzz, and the grip on merch, and the cons, the show will never go off the air, unless all of the writers kill themselves from shame.

Image credits: whompywhomperson.deviantart.com, funnyjunk.com, imahugeneckbeardpleasekillmenow.com

Shirt fan

So I was trying to find old photos of 6 dollar shirt man (don’t worry about it if you don’t know what I’m talking about. I will write a feature on this, and explain to you poor babies what early internet t-shirt shopping was like), and I stumbled upon whatever the hell this is:

Found here: freemusicarchive.org

A shirt vest thing made of computer fans. Someone spent time on this. Someone spent time on finding fans and wiring them together and putting this on and taking a picture of it in the case that someone else might want to see it.

I am here, working my ass off to get a PhD. I dedicated my life to science. This guy makes fan shirts. What the fuck.

Spill Yer Guts!

Recently I was invited to join a new kind of gentler, more empathetic Web 2.0 (or is it 3.0 now? Oh, Internet!) site/app/buttplug simply called Spill. The notion behind the edgy name is that your problems, as a young person, deserve an audience of peers that are similarly dilemma’d. You know, as opposed to a trained professional or your parents.

Ok, admittedly this would be a FANTASTIC idea, if when you submitted your problem, you would receive help from a vetted peer, like, I don’t know, a person maybe doing their clinicals as a psychologist or even someone who can think without their head up their ass. It would be even better if you could anonymously just ask a psych about shit. That’s why we have them! They’re classically trained to hear our problems, put them in perspective for us, and then guide us through a resolution. But when you hand a 16-21 year old the problems of another 16-21 year old, you get nothing but bullshit. At that age, it’s impossible to see the forest for the acne-prone trees.

Of course, when you’re 27 and working on a doctorate (hey, that’s me!), you have a more serious perspective on life than someone 10 years younger, and thus I realized that my services were needed. There was a vast field of problems that are only problems when you are that age, and I was the only one that could tell them to keep their head down and shut the fuck up. I accepted the invite, and got straight to work.

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After the second one, Luke started to, ahem, interfere. He made me actually give GOOD advice instead of being illustrative (he called it bitchiness but I know he’s just jealous of my raw talent).

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It just didn’t feel like I was doing what I set out to do, though, so I switched gears back to my original scheme, Snarkiness with a side of Cynicism, and Luke basically came around to see that this was the best way to help these people. It’s whacky, zany, and fun, and hopefully will let these awful little self-absorbed shits know that they need to realize that their problems aren’t problems.

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Check back on Saturdays, where I will post the Spill Cleanups I’ve responded to each week, and watch as little teens get their itty bitty hearts broken by the internet! HAHAHAHAHA!

Who let Schrodinger’s Cat out? WHO, WHO, WHO?!

At some point in your life, you’ve probably heard about Schrodinger’s cat. Most people could tell you that there is a cat in a box, and not much else. If you’re lucky, they could tell you why and how the cat is in the box. Fewer still could actually tell you what it represents. And it irks me to no end, because it’s like waving a gun around and not firing it.

For non-physicists, I’ll give you a very qualitative explanation of the creation of Schrodinger’s cat as explained to me by professors since high school, college, and graduate school (admittedly you could just go to Wikipedia but THAT AIN’T HOW THIS SHIT FLIES ‘ROUND HERE.):

Quantum mechanics wasn’t always well-accepted as a viable theory. In its development during the early 20th century, young physicists like Heisenberg and Schrodinger were busy trying to prove their salt with a form of physics that, at best, is clever statistics and probability. The gatekeepers to the YES button were the old curmudgeonly physicists that, 30 or so years earlier, were trying to do the same with relativistic physics (I SWEAR there isn’t an ether, honest! We totally broke up with her!). They also did this without much experimental work, so when the quantum folks arrived, you would think that the entirely stable mathematical basis and easier access to proof of principle would be ENOUGH, right? I mean, this is the 30s! The boom of atomic and nuclear exploration is literally on the doorstep, and all these old crusty dudes are like, whoa now, young whippersnapper, I don’t know about this…

You’d be like, seriously?!

After both sides duking it out (in the only way scientists can, being the frequent publishing of incremental catty papers, like a sad rap war), it comes down to the status quo of physics writing up a note on a brick basically saying “Well Quantum Mechanics, I’m not sure the science is all in on this one” and tossing it into the fray. QM is all like, oh HELL NO so Schrodinger basically goes to war slinging direct letters coming up with increasingly creative analogies for different situations, answering every single question that Old Man Relativity has for them with an oversimplified yet incredibly accurate description of a quantum mechanical process or theoretical point.

Finally it comes down to Einstein (did I mention that Einstein was a part of this? That rat bastard, yet again, with his superiority complex…), giving an example about gunpowder, and Schrodinger does what any out of his mind, frustrated physicist does: he comes up with some completely fucked analogy about the possibility of finding a dead cat in a box. Yes, the cat was on purpose, for the purpose of expressing his disdain to Einstein. It’s meant as the ultimate slap in the face to Einstein’s “barrel of gunpowder” example. And it was AMAZING. Einstein did not have a fucking thing to say back. Everyone pronounces QM as king and we all live happily to drop bombs on Japan (sorry Japan!).

So please fucking shut up with the Schrodinger’s cat references, unless the end of your sentence is “and then Einstein promptly sucked it.”

I <3 rednecks

Who fucking doesn’t?! Rednecks are great. Ok, I’m glad I’m not one of them, but you have to admit, rednecks are really the bread and butter of this great nation. Here I will outline the collected facts and theorems as to why we may be ruled by them someday, and how I hope to gain their trust.

1. Rednecks will never die. That’s right. They’re unstoppable! Jimmy may be three toes short of a perfect 10, and Lacey has skin, throat, and lung cancer, but you know if you ever tried the stunts they have, you’d be dead. They’re not always in the best of health, but they’ve evolved to withstand the electricity being cut off in the middle of winter, a number of mechanically-related accidents, and smoking and drinking constantly. And the thing is, they have no regrets. They would do it all over again. This will only serve to evolve them further to the cockroach-level of killability.

2. Rednecks can jank ANYTHING together. If it runs on gas, uses gears, has wiring, doesn’t matter, because there is a redneck somewhere with a roll of duct tape and some banged up tools he done stole ready to bash it into working order. Or non-working order. Then working order back again. Rednecks have somehow been born with this natural tinkering ability. The level of the ability is capped, however, so we see very few rednecks in the engineering discipline, but this doesn’t mean that rednecks can’t do it. Oftentimes it is the math and details that elude them. Left with a task and free-range of materials, the redneck can do it, but limit it to a degree of working order, and the redneck fails more often than not. In the apocalypse, this will not matter; getting something to work quickly will be more important than making sure it works the exact way it used to.

3. Rednecks thrive in squalor. As our waste and landfills pile up around us, rednecks will flourish. They not only live in trash, they LIKE it. A trash heap is magical treasure hunt full of copper wire, old plumbing, and neat shit. The more we throw out, the better the redneck will live (and the bigger his/her copper haul).

4. Redneck society is more equitably balanced and ideal. There, I said it. It is true that rednecks are susceptible to religious and cultural messages, such as the women belonging in the kitchen, and that gays and blacks are awful (none of this is supported by this blog, btw). However, these messages are often not followed up with rigorous information to support these ideas. You can actually convince a redneck to think liberally if you present him with better, sounder facts than the other side. The proof, they say, is in the pudding. Many rednecks households are communal, and share what they have with others. They often live sustainably, by reusing and fixing things rather than to buy new parts or machinery.  They also oftentimes farm if they can. Women may have to cook the food, but men want to take part in obtaining the food, too, by hunting or picking crops. Men also do tend to help out in the kitchen, where the woman has the title of mastery rather than a slave to the stove.

5. Rednecks scheme. Boy, do they love to scheme! It’s a whole family activity, too. If one scheme fails, they have several backup schemes. This isn’t to say rednecks don’t hold down jobs; many fine rednecks across this country hold successful jobs as mechanics, electricians, and construction workers, but a redneck’s got dreams. Dreams of schemes.

6. Rednecks are biologically more evolved. Whether its a by-product of living in squalor, lack of healthcare, or constant ingest of anything from motor oil to raw squirrel, rednecks can withstand any chemical agent thrown at them. Tear gas? More like weak-ass. Cops have the toughest time taking them down using chemical weapons. After violating restraining orders and assaulting police offers enough, a shot of mace to the face won’t pack the same punch as it used to. And that’s not all; we’re talking about a subculture of drinking gasoline, eating roadkill, and chewing on government-issue cheese leftover from the war in Vietnam. They know you have a gluten allergy. They know you can’t handle cholesterol like you used to. They know this and more. They know when it comes time to survive, you’re going to be hard-pressed to find food to eat, while they’ll be eating like kings… or at least eating the same exact shit they always do.

7. Technology is neither a hindrance nor a help to the redneck. Rednecks understand that technology, like cell phones and microwaves ovens, are useful. However, combined with their penchant for tinkering, either tool can be both cooking device and a telephone. Then again, they could do without altogether. The adaptability and the good-naturedness of the common redneck is such that anything device can be a point of enjoyment, but without it, the redneck will without a doubt find another diversion for enjoyment. Before modern cooking, rednecks were (and still basically are) content to hunt and cook over an open flame. In fact, the redneck enjoys hunting and fire so much that it is a common past-time. A redneck will not give up his cellphone or his tv willingly, but will find a replacement if it comes to pass.