Say It With Your Chest, Coward
by: Jerry “The Ankle-Biter” Silverhand
I have solved civilization.
You're welcome.
Please remain seated. There will be no Nobel Prize ceremony, no TED Talk, no panel of experts, and absolutely no fucking podcast.
I don't need a university to give me an honorary doctorate.
I don't need fourteen economists sitting around a mahogany table explaining incentive structures while one guy who hasn't spoken in forty-five minutes suddenly adjusts his glasses and says, “Well, actually—”
No.
Shut up, Gerald.
I have discovered the answer.
After thousands of years of philosophy, religion, war, diplomacy, economics, governments, empires, revolutions, self-help books, motivational speakers, inspirational refrigerator magnets, and people posting pictures of sunsets with quotes they absolutely did not write, humanity's problem can finally be reduced to one simple equation:
People need to be approximately 10–15% less shit.
That's it.
That's the whole fucking program.
Not perfect.
Not enlightened.
Not even particularly good.
Good is apparently premium content.
I'm asking for slightly less shit.
Ten percent.
Fifteen if you're feeling ambitious.
We could probably change civilization before lunch.
Consider modern romance.
You meet somebody online.
They seem interesting.
They like you.
You like them.
You talk.
You flirt.
You exchange increasingly stupid jokes.
Maybe they're weird.
Good.
I like weird.
Normal is overrated.
Eventually the primitive creature living inside your skull notices something.
✨
Shiny.
Goblin sees shiny.
Goblin approaches shiny.
Goblin makes noises.
“ooooooo.”
Shiny does not immediately flee.
Promising.
Goblin makes additional noises.
Shiny makes noises back.
Holy shit.
Communication.
Perhaps Goblin and Shiny discover they are mutually attracted.
Perhaps Goblin eventually gets to pluck Shiny.
Beautiful.
Nature is healing.
David Attenborough could narrate this shit.
“And here, beneath the pale glow of a Samsung screen, the North American Goblin attempts courtship. His chances are poor, but his confidence remains inexplicably high.”
This should be simple.
Unfortunately, somewhere during human evolution, somebody looked at flirting and said:
“You know what this needs?”
MICROTRANSACTIONS.
Now Shiny says:
“I really want to see you.”
Excellent.
Goblin pleased.
“But first you need to unlock this.”
Goblin confused.
No.
“I just need to know I can trust you.”
Excuse me?
When the fuck did Visa become a character witness?
Apparently emotional trust is now processed through major credit-card networks.
MASTERCARD:
There are some things money can't buy.
For everything else, apparently there's emotional validation.
DECLINED.
Then there's:
“I'll come see you if you unlock this.”
Oh.
Wonderful.
So I've accidentally wandered into Dating: Game of the Year Edition.
Meeting another human being is apparently DLC.
Base game includes:
Talking.
Flirting.
Promises.
Hope.
One complimentary heart emoji.
Actually seeing the person?
$5.99.
And if you'd like the Deluxe Intimacy Expansion Pack, please purchase seventeen photographs, three videos, a commemorative goblin hat, and your remaining dignity.
No.
Absolutely not.
Which brings us to my newest doctrine:
If I need to unlock something just to see you, you can go lick a cactus.
Not punch a cactus.
That was Old Testament Jerry.
We've evolved.
Licking is superior.
Punching a cactus implies anger.
It suggests I've lost emotional control.
Licking a cactus is different.
Licking a cactus says:
“I am no longer participating in this negotiation, but I have prepared an exciting alternative activity for you.”
Go forth.
Locate cactus.
Approach cactus.
Extend tongue.
Apply tongue directly to cactus.
Reflect upon your decisions.
Godspeed.
🌵
Now, before anybody misunderstands me:
I am NOT asking people to stop being weird.
Please.
For the love of God.
CONTINUE BEING WEIRD.
Be strange.
Be goofy.
Be horny.
Be awkward.
Have obscure hobbies.
Send me the dumb meme.
Tell me your cat has appointed itself Assistant Regional Manager of the kitchen.
Hell, BE a cat.
I've encountered this.
Woman says she's a cat.
Okay.
Woman also owns a cat.
Interesting.
Cat is a tortie.
OH FUCK.
The Cat Distribution System has apparently expanded its jurisdiction.
I thought it distributed cats.
Apparently it now distributes women who identify as cats who themselves possess cats.
That's Catception.
At that point I don't know whether I'm dating, adopting, being adopted, or being evaluated for colony membership.
Doesn't matter.
Goblin Brain has already taken over.
✨ SHINY HAS CAT. ✨
“Goblin, don't.”
“ooooooo.”
“Goblin, we discussed this.”
“SHINY.”
“We have financial policies.”
“BUT SHINY HAS TORTIE.”
“GOBLIN.”
“CAT.”
Goddammit.
Rational Brain has temporarily lost administrative privileges.
And you know what?
That's okay.
Being attracted to somebody makes you stupid sometimes.
That's part of being human.
You can be smart enough to recognize a scam, disciplined enough to maintain a budget, experienced enough to know better, and still have a tiny creature inside your skull grab the steering wheel because somebody cute smiled at you.
The objective isn't to kill Goblin.
Goblin is fun.
Goblin keeps life interesting.
Goblin occasionally finds treasure.
We simply need Goblin to understand one critical distinction:
TREASURE IS NOT THE SAME THING AS BAIT.
You may admire Shiny.
You may speak to Shiny.
You may flirt with Shiny.
You may attempt consensual acquisition of Shiny.
But Goblin does not get unsupervised access to the debit card.
That privilege has been revoked.
And this isn't really about dating apps.
That's merely where today's particular circus pitched its tent.
This shit is everywhere.
Work.
Dating.
Friendships.
Social media.
Customer service.
Family.
Everywhere you look, somebody has discovered that being just a little bit shittier might provide some temporary advantage.
Lie a little.
Manipulate a little.
Waste somebody's time.
Make promises you never intended to keep.
Take somebody's kindness and see how much you can extract from it.
Treat patience as permission to push further.
Treat generosity like an unlocked cash register.
Then act surprised when people become cynical.
That's the part that gets me.
People complain constantly:
“Why doesn't anybody trust anybody anymore?”
Gee.
I wonder.
Maybe because every fucking treasure chest has started growing teeth.
You walk into a room now and have to poke everything with a sword.
IS THIS A PERSON?
poke
IS THIS A MIMIC?
poke
IS THIS AN INVESTMENT OPPORTUNITY?
POKE POKE POKE
IS THIS WOMAN ACTUALLY INTERESTED IN ME?
careful poke
IS THIS ABOUT TO BECOME A $5.99 BUNDLE?
draws Paladin sword
And sometimes the chest opens normally.
Holy shit.
Treasure.
An actual person.
Somebody funny.
Somebody interesting.
Somebody who remembers something you said yesterday.
Somebody who asks a question because they actually want to know the answer.
Somebody who talks to you even after you've made it clear your wallet isn't participating.
Those people exist.
That's what makes the whole thing so frustrating.
Because occasionally you meet someone and think:
Oh.
There you are.
You're real.
You're weird.
You're fun.
You're actually talking to me instead of running a monetization funnel disguised as flirting.
And suddenly all the armor comes off a little.
Goblin emerges from the bunker.
“shiny?”
Yes, Goblin.
Maybe shiny.
“ooooooo.”
Easy.
Don't scare it.
But here's another thing I've learned:
Being sweet does not guarantee somebody will be sweet back.
Being patient does not guarantee somebody will respect your time.
Listening does not guarantee somebody is listening to you.
Giving somebody the benefit of the doubt does not obligate them to deserve it.
And being kind doesn't mean you have to keep volunteering for bullshit.
That's an important distinction.
Because eventually you start thinking:
Maybe if I'm nicer.
Maybe if I'm more patient.
Maybe if I explain myself better.
Maybe if I give them another chance.
Maybe if I wait another hour.
Maybe if I—
No.
Sometimes the answer is simply:
This person is being an asshole.
Diagnosis complete.
No laboratory work required.
Throw the deuces.
✌️
You don't need a twenty-page psychological profile explaining why somebody behaves badly before you're allowed to stop dealing with them.
You don't need to defeat them.
You don't need the last word.
You don't need to prove that you're smarter.
You don't need to win.
Sometimes winning is simply leaving before somebody manages to make their bullshit your bullshit.
And apparently—because civilization continues finding new ways to surprise me—I also need to establish the following rule:
DON'T THREATEN TO FUCKING KILL PEOPLE.
I didn't think this needed to be included.
I assumed we covered this somewhere around kindergarten.
Don't bite.
Don't hit.
Share the crayons.
Don't issue death threats to strangers.
Basic curriculum.
But apparently somebody missed orientation.
So now my casual adventures require:
Financial doctrine.
Mimic detection.
Threat-response protocol.
Block button.
Report button.
Cactus policy.
What the fuck?
I wanted casual fun.
That was the assignment.
I wasn't searching for the lost Ark of the Covenant.
I wasn't attempting to negotiate peace in the Middle East.
I wasn't trying to overthrow a government.
I wanted to meet people.
Talk.
Flirt.
Maybe get laid.
That's it.
Somehow I've ended up multiclassing into Paladin / Fraud Investigator / Relationship Counselor / Threat Assessment Specialist / Goblin Wrangler.
And that's just dating.
Then there's employment.
My aspirations were equally outrageous:
Show up.
Work.
Get paid.
Go home.
Pay bills.
Be boring.
That's apparently an unreasonable lifestyle.
I wanted NPC energy.
I wanted to stand behind the counter repeating the same three dialogue options until my shift ended.
Instead employment became a fucking season finale.
Plot twists.
Allegations.
Suspensions.
Meetings.
Phone calls.
Letters.
Unemployment paperwork.
At some point you stare at the ceiling and think:
Can I please have ONE SYSTEM in my life that doesn't contain a hidden boss?
Just one?
I would like to purchase groceries without unlocking a questline.
I would like to receive a paycheck without dramatic music.
I would like to flirt with a woman without needing Mimic Detection +500%.
I would like Tuesday to simply be Tuesday.
Boring has become aspirational.
Which brings me back to civilization.
Maybe humanity doesn't need enlightenment.
Maybe we've been aiming too high.
I don't need eight billion people standing in a fucking circle singing KUMBAYA while holding hands, hugging their enemies, forgiving their exes, planting a community garden, recycling responsibly, drinking ethically sourced tea, and waiting for a flock of heavenly doves to descend from the clouds carrying tiny certificates that say:
CONGRATULATIONS, HUMANITY!
YOU FINALLY STOPPED BEING ASSHOLES!
No.
That's fantasy.
The doves aren't coming.
And if they did, somebody would probably charge $5.99 to unlock them.
I don't need everybody to love everybody.
You don't have to love everybody.
You don't even have to like everybody.
Hell, there are people you're going to meet and immediately think:
I hope this motherfucker steps on a Lego.
That's okay.
Human.
Normal.
We're not building utopia.
I'm proposing something much more achievable:
BE 10–15% LESS SHIT.
That's it.
Imagine the improvement.
Tell the truth slightly more often.
Manipulate people slightly less.
Return your shopping cart.
Don't scream at the cashier because corporate changed the coupon policy.
Don't treat somebody's kindness like weakness.
Don't mistake attention for an ATM.
Don't manufacture affection because you want somebody's money.
Don't promise things you have no intention of doing.
Don't waste somebody's time because you're bored.
Don't punish people for saying no.
Don't turn every boundary into the opening round of negotiations.
Don't threaten strangers.
Don't fuck with people simply because you discovered you can.
And every once in a while, do something decent when there's absolutely nothing in it for you.
That's it.
No spiritual awakening required.
No monastery.
No pilgrimage.
No twelve-step enlightenment program.
No fucking Kumbaya.
Just wake up tomorrow and be slightly less of a dick than you were yesterday.
Ten percent.
Maybe fifteen.
Hell, start with five if your personality has technical debt.
We'll patch you incrementally.
Humanity v1.01:
Fixed issue where users unnecessarily treated each other like shit.
Improved empathy performance.
Reduced manipulation frequency.
Added “accept no as an answer” functionality.
Known issue:
Goblin still attracted to shiny objects.
Developers investigating.
If eight billion people installed that patch, civilization would improve overnight.
Not perfect.
Not paradise.
Just better.
And better is enough.
Because I don't need everybody to become saints.
I don't need humanity to hold hands beneath a rainbow.
I don't need dolphins leaping majestically through the background.
I don't need world peace by Thursday.
I just want fewer people actively making everybody else's trip around the sun more fucking annoying than it already is.
Life is already difficult.
Bills arrive.
Jobs disappear.
Things break.
People get sick.
Plans fail.
Your television suddenly decides it would rather become a radio.
The dryer stops working.
Your internet shits itself.
You lose things.
You miss people.
You make stupid choices.
Goblin sees shiny.
Goblin purchases shiny.
Rational Brain wakes up the next morning holding the receipt.
We already have enough naturally occurring bullshit.
Why manufacture more?
Why wake up and decide:
“You know what this struggling stranger needs today?
ME BEING A FUCKING PROBLEM.”
Don't.
That's the revolution.
That's my grand philosophy.
That's Jerry's Unified Theory of Civilization:
Life already produces enough shit on its own.
Stop adding extra shit.
And if you absolutely cannot manage that?
If being 10% less shit represents an impossible burden?
If your entire personality depends upon manipulating, threatening, lying to, exploiting, annoying, or generally exhausting everyone unfortunate enough to wander into your gravitational field?
That's okay.
I have prepared an alternative curriculum.
It's free.
No subscription.
No intimacy bundle.
No credit card required.
No unlock necessary.
Available worldwide.
🌵
Go find a cactus.
Look at it.
Contemplate it.
Consider the decisions that brought you here.
Then—
Go lick the fucking cactus.
Mr. Jerry's Unsolicited Advice
You are allowed to like shiny things.
You are allowed to make stupid goblin noises at shiny things.
You are allowed to flirt with shiny things.
You are allowed to hope the shiny thing likes you back.
And if two consenting goblins decide they would like to enthusiastically pluck one another's shiny objects, God bless America.
But learn the difference between treasure and bait.
Someone who likes you doesn't need you to purchase proof of your affection.
Someone who respects you doesn't turn “no” into a sales objection.
Someone worth your time can survive hearing:
“I am not paying for that.”
And if their affection evaporates the moment your debit card stays in your pocket?
Congratulations.
You didn't lose treasure.
You discovered a Mimic.
Draw sword.
No.
Actually—
We've grown.
Put the sword away.
Save yourself the repair bill.
Throw the deuces.
✌️
Let the Mimic starve.
ACT BROKE.
BE BORING.
KEEP THE GOBLIN AWAY FROM THE DEBIT CARD.
And remember:
The world doesn't need everybody singing Kumbaya.
It just needs everybody to be a little less fucking shit.