The consummation of indignation
Nick Olson
Issue date: 4/15/08 Section: Commentary
Sheer outrage. Sheer, unparalleled outrage. Today will forever herald the capitulation of courtesy and the victory of vulgarity. Though future victories may come and though even the rainforests may some day be replanted, the heinous atrocity committed today will forever remain a blemish on the character of the human people. Indeed, even in memory, our children will bear this stinging stigma with the full retribution of remorse.
While I was today at Starbucks picking up my regular Chai Tea Latte, the barista managed to utter words so obscene and abominable as would make Rush Limbaugh cringe.
As he superciliously placed my drink down for me to pick up, with a jeering smile, he uttered the words, "Good morning, sir!"
Traumatized, appalled, I threw my latte right in his face. Never have I heard such desecration of modern values. In one sentence, the fiend had managed to forge a triune vulgarity that offended my every sensibility. Though even now I gag at the memory, modernity implores me to vivisect the utterance, that others may recognize the wickedness of this abomination.
The first word the reprobate thrust upon my ears was "good." And what a word to begin with!-in a single word, the villain had imposed upon me an objective morality, encompassing every conservative vulgarity: that of restriction, that of the suspension of the right to choose, whether that be abortion, drug abuse, murder, or suicide, that of all moral imposition! In a single utterance, the beast had managed to violate every sensibility of every modern person. But he did not stop his obscenity there.
The second word the barbarian forced upon this world was "morning." After offending every personal truth, this man proceeded to narrow-mindedly exclude three-quarters of the world. Was it morning in China, barista? How about in Africa? How did this racist, uneducated bigot manage to squeeze in even more imprecation? But even those two strokes were not enough for him; no, he continued his profanity.
"Sir"-with a mockingly facetious respect, the wretch capped off his crime by imposing upon me sexual strictures. All my past hopes that man had ascended beyond his naiveté were crushed as I was personally attacked and caged within a conservative gender role. With a single, crushing word, the barista doomed me to years of therapy and gender exploration in order to re-determine who I am. Thus his triune obscenity was complete, and he simply stood there grinning like Nero over his inflamed Rome.
Others claim that too often I overreact-that I search for things to find offensive. Perhaps this is the case. Perhaps the barista was actually acknowledging our dismal state of affairs and had actually said "good mourning." In which case, I encourage all others to join our barista in his mourning for our sad, sad state, which may never escape from its moral and gender enslavement.
(Contributing writer Nick Olson is a freshman English major)
While I was today at Starbucks picking up my regular Chai Tea Latte, the barista managed to utter words so obscene and abominable as would make Rush Limbaugh cringe.
As he superciliously placed my drink down for me to pick up, with a jeering smile, he uttered the words, "Good morning, sir!"
Traumatized, appalled, I threw my latte right in his face. Never have I heard such desecration of modern values. In one sentence, the fiend had managed to forge a triune vulgarity that offended my every sensibility. Though even now I gag at the memory, modernity implores me to vivisect the utterance, that others may recognize the wickedness of this abomination.
The first word the reprobate thrust upon my ears was "good." And what a word to begin with!-in a single word, the villain had imposed upon me an objective morality, encompassing every conservative vulgarity: that of restriction, that of the suspension of the right to choose, whether that be abortion, drug abuse, murder, or suicide, that of all moral imposition! In a single utterance, the beast had managed to violate every sensibility of every modern person. But he did not stop his obscenity there.
The second word the barbarian forced upon this world was "morning." After offending every personal truth, this man proceeded to narrow-mindedly exclude three-quarters of the world. Was it morning in China, barista? How about in Africa? How did this racist, uneducated bigot manage to squeeze in even more imprecation? But even those two strokes were not enough for him; no, he continued his profanity.
"Sir"-with a mockingly facetious respect, the wretch capped off his crime by imposing upon me sexual strictures. All my past hopes that man had ascended beyond his naiveté were crushed as I was personally attacked and caged within a conservative gender role. With a single, crushing word, the barista doomed me to years of therapy and gender exploration in order to re-determine who I am. Thus his triune obscenity was complete, and he simply stood there grinning like Nero over his inflamed Rome.
Others claim that too often I overreact-that I search for things to find offensive. Perhaps this is the case. Perhaps the barista was actually acknowledging our dismal state of affairs and had actually said "good mourning." In which case, I encourage all others to join our barista in his mourning for our sad, sad state, which may never escape from its moral and gender enslavement.
(Contributing writer Nick Olson is a freshman English major)
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