I was going to title this: Does the wingnuttery ever stop? Or: Can these ass-hats get any stupider? But I decided against it because pretty much any diary could have these titles.
No, this is a slice-of-life story, one of those soul-draining experiences that reminds you that people are pretty fucking stupid.
I got home from Cal State Northridge kind of late, and I wanted to crash out and space out for a bit. The last few days have been kind of draining, I spent most of today looking at microfilm of Mississippi newspapers from the 1820s. (I'm real close to finishing my thesis, one more chapter, should take about two weeks.)
But I couldn't throw myself down on the couch just yet: I had to take "Libeled Lady" back to the video store. ("Libeled Lady" is highly recommended, by the way, for people who like 1930s screwball comedies. Myrna Loy and William Powell are both great!)
On the way to the video store, I ran into a homeless guy that I have seen around the neighborhood for ten or fifteen years. Actually, several years went by that I didn't see him, but lately he's been around again, and I've tried to avoid him.
For whatever reason, I used to talk to him pretty often, and give him a dollar when I saw him. He's a conservative Republican. And he's one of those "nice" Republicans, you know who I mean, those folks who have learned how to project a shallow and insincere friendliness, if you're the right sort of person. I am done with these people, I won't deal with them any more than I have to. And I will always call them on it when they start in with their bullshit.
Tonight, I couldn't avoid him without really snubbing him, so I talked to him for a few minutes, and I was just about to give him a dollar. Well, the fucking dumb-ass said something so fucking stupid that ... well, you won't believe this. (He didn't get anything from me. Which I now feel kind of bad about. But not bad enough to go and find the shit-head and give him a dollar.)
He asked me what I've been up to, and I told him I'm almost done with my master's thesis. And I mentioned that I wasn't accepted to the UCLA PhD program for the fall.
He really started quizzing me about why I wasn't accepted at UCLA. I told him what one of my professors told me: It was unusually competitive this year. There were 200 applicants for 40 slots, and, for whatever reason, I didn't make the cut. Better luck next time.
Well, he didn't believe that explanation, and he spent a lot of time coming up with weird reasons why I wasn't accepted. He was very vague and it took me a minute to begin to guess what he was getting at. Finally, he said it a little more clearly:
"You don't think it was the Mexcians, do you?"
That's right! I didn't get accepted into the PhD program at UCLA because an illegal immigrant got the spot I should have had!
I said: "That's bullshit."
He tried to spout off all the talking points about illegal immigration ruining the country, but I was not in the mood. And I didn't try to debate him. I just said, "That's bullshit" and also "That's fucking bullshit" for a little variety.
Finally he said: "Listen to the flaming liberal."
And I said: "You don't have to be a liberal to know racist bullshit when you hear it and I don't listen to racist bullshit."
And he started to tell me about how hard it was for him to get work as a day laborer, how he hangs around at Home Depot, but the Mexicans get picked before him. They won't pick him because he's old and because he's white. That's what he says. (He's not that old, under 50. He's also frequently drunk. He wasn't drunk tonight though.)
Well, for a moment, I felt really sorry for him. I COULD have suggested that he had made a lot of bad choices in his life. I COULD have asked why employers have any responsibility to choose him for day work. I COULD have suggested he wasn't picked because he reeked of booze. But I didn't say any of that. I couldn't say that to a deluded, frustrated, unlucky man. I was done done talking politics with him. He needed help. I fished around in my pockets for some quarters and a Susan B. Anthony dollar I was pretty sure I still had.
But he didn't finish with his frustration about Mexicans taking jobs away from him. He said liberals don't care about the regular guy. And he told me: "Get a life!"
A homeless man, begging for change, blaming the failures of his life on the Mexicans, bagging on "liberals," told me to get a life!
I put my money back in my pocket, said "Seeya later," and walked away as he said, "Hey, you got any change?"
Dude. Go ask Governor Schwarzenegger for a hand-out. See if those whackos in the Minutemen or Save Our State will give you a job "protecting the borders."
Homeless conservatives must learn. Free speech has consequences.