Rejection

So, there's this Facebook page called I'm Not Right In The Head. The basic idea is that it's where people come together to share how "not right" they are, make up funny captions for odd photos, read odd news stories, etc. As anyone who knows me can attest, I'd be all over this like hubris on an Objectivist. And I was.

Until today.

You see, INRITH (as I now think of them) frequently held a "fill in the blank" activity. It'd be something like "I'm not right in the head because I enjoy watching________", and you were supposed to--guess what?--fill in the blank.

Now, something else people who know me can tell you: I will NOT do something like this halfway. If prompted to shock, startle or outright offend, I'm gonna start where most people stop. There is very little I hold sacred. Your mother? She's a whore. The pope? He's molesting a child RIGHT NOW. Your favorite band? They suck. Your religion? Lies. Bigotry? Hilarious. You? Puh-leeze. Me? A physically unattractive, festering ball of neuroses who ridicules the flaws of others to hide his own massive insecurities, content to waste his life taking the path of least resistance. Were I to attempt an Aristocrats joke, I'm pretty sure all of reality would implode into a scatological vortex.

At the same time, though? I don't mean it--don't mean most of it, anyway. I am not a racist or a homophobe or a rapist or a misogynist or an anti-Semite or anything like that. This is because when I say gross or disturbing things, it is entirely for the purposes of humor--to effectively shock a laugh out of the listener. If I really was any of the things listed above, well, it wouldn't be funny anymore. It would, instead, become merely disgusting and pathetic. Like Glenn Beck. (Oh, and I DO mean that one.)

Anyway, back to INRITH. Their most recent fill-in-the-blank was "I'm not right in the head because I once made love in________". At this point, I'd already decided I was going to take the concept of "not right in the head" as far as it would go, adopting the persona of someone who's genuinely miswired upstairs. Since this is pretty much me anyway, this proved rather easy. I could tell my entries tended to be the weirdest of the bunch, and this time was no exception.

My entry this time was "my mom's ass".

Yeah.

Let me clarify: I did NOT mean I had fucked my mother in the ass. I meant to imply I had once made love to a woman unrelated to myself, and we had just so happened to be inside my mother's ass at the time. Looking back now, I can see how this could be misinterpreted.

As my mouse hovered over that "comment" button, I experienced a pang of doubt. Do I really want to say this? I thought. Am I about to step over the line from transgressive humor to mere repulsion?

I need to start listening to that voice, because the answer is invariably, with the resonation of a slamming door in a previously-thought-abandoned house, "YES."

But I hit that button anyway. Just like I always do.

The next day, this message was in my inbox:


that's it

there's Not Right and there's sick.
your comments are sick.

goodbye

Wow. In my defense, I'd point out that "not right" and "sick" are virtually synonymous, but still...wow. Stuff like that makes me wonder: Am I really as funny as I think I am? Or am I just another jackass who doesn't know when or how to keep his mouth shut?

Thoughts?