Can I Kill a Baby and Get Away With It?
I’m sure that I used all the keywords the FBI tracks for criminal activity, thus activating an infallible mechanism that will culminate in my brutal arrest. So I must write quickly; and put on some pants.
I don’t intend to kill a baby. At least not until I get my own. But I feel that I’m entitled to at least jocularly muse about that possibility. The thing is, people feel tempted to deny me that possibility. And those who don’t have feel entitled to publicly scold me. After all I’m an insensible prick with deviant moral values who takes pleasure from alien pain.
But I actually don’t take pleasure immediately from whatever horrible event is used to make the joke. I either create or am amused by a joke or comment sa(i)d event . If you take a look around, you might notice that far worse behaviors are socially accepted – don’t do it literally or you might just find dirty clothes lying around and a bed yet to be made. If you just type “crash” on YouTube, you’ll find thousands of videos of people suffering incredible injuries and going through crazy amounts of pain. They are taking immediate pleasure from someone else’s pain. There is no creation here at stake. It’s pure suffering leading to pure pleasure. And I’m not even saying that that’s not acceptable. Who am I to deny someone the pleasure of watching someone pulpify their testicles or shatter their knees? Why don’t you go and tell them, “That’s not funny! That person who comically felt face first from a unicycle onto a muddy pond was in real pain. You heartless oaf!” (Sorry for talking to you on the first person, I’m sure you have as twisted sense of humour as I do. I read in some blog that you should write in the first person get the readers more involved. They talked to me in the first person, and I’m following their advice, so it probably works. Does it? Ok, time to close brackets before this becomes too long and we both (me and you, we’re pals by now, see?) lose focus on the subject matter.)
Too late. Where was I? Oh, I was being meta. Let’s stop with that crap.
Being this a movie reviewing blog, it might seem strange to be talking about killing babies and what-not. It is. I just really needed a space to increase social awareness about dead-baby-jokes-fans. I wanted to get this message out there: People with dark sense of humour are people too. I will tell an anecdote to show just that:
I’m The Godfather – never mind the overdone use of the definite article. My sister gave birth to a little baby, and she chose me as the young one’s future caretaker in case of any unfortunate accident. U-N-F-O-R-T-U-N-A-T-E. I’m her uncle and godfather.
When I first heard that my sister had delivered the baby a let loose a small tear. When I saw her the first time I loosened a big one. I was afraid to hold her because I was melting away from all the cuteness. The baby let loose a little fart. I can be a sissy, but I can also be strong. I have to be her role model. I let loose a big one.
I had to go abroad so all I could see from her were some scanty hundreds of pictures. At every single one I looked I couldn’t contain a smile. Sometimes a small one, sometimes a big one.
I liked to watch so much that I decided to use her as a wallpaper. I picked her up and smashed her against the wall.
If you still think I’m a psychopath I can’t really change your mind. I won’t try anymore. Maybe if I cut you up in little pieces you’d believe but why bother?
If you ask me it’s all fine and dandy as long as you don’t hurt anybody else. And even if you do, everybody can use some hurting of time to time. Maybe if you get offended time and again you’ll learn to fucking laugh and quit being a sissy. And I don’t mean gay. There’s anything wrong with that.
P.s. To answer the question in the title: Sure, if you’re a fast eater.
I’m not the messiah, but you can follow me: