I Am A H8ter

(Originally written on 27 September 2009)

Today, I was called a hater.

At first, I was annoyed. I thought to myself that the people calling me a hater were being ridiculous because I did not feel I was behaving in a hateful manner.  The jist of the situation was that another individual was infringing his will on my world. I am a pretty cool person and I am pretty cool with others doing whatever they want. I don't care what their skin color is. I don't care what their sexual orientation is. I don't care if they have a pork chop fetish or happen to love the Grateful Dead. I honestly really don't care very much unless some one else crosses the line and refuses to give me the same base level of respect that I grant all others.

Having  just got off the phone with one of my best friends in the whole wide world, I am moved to address this. Maybe for those who started it. Maybe for those who wondered what the heck was going on. And, maybe for myself.  I smile as I type this because it all clicked while I was talking to my friend.  "Josie", he says to me (about a completely unrelated situation around my job), "Josie, you are sometimes so polite and so well mannered and so professional that you do give the impression of being a door mat. I know you aren't a door mat. YOU know you aren't a door mat. But some people do interpret lack of response to an assault as showing weakness versus showing restraint."

So. Now it suddenly dawns on me. The whole hater thing. I have to laugh now. I detest the entire "hater" notion, urban theory, what have you for one simple reason. That reason is that it is an attempt to manipulate the behavior of those you percieve as weaker then you (or those you are threatened by) by tapping into that common herd fear of "not being part of the group".  Oh...don't complain...you are being a hater. Don't snitch. You are being a hater.  Translation? Be a door mat so I  can continue to wipe my feet on you.  And you know what? There are actually people who buy into this entire ludicrous theory. Oh! God forbid I stand up for myself or others will think I am bad. Agressive. Out of line. The squeaky wheel. The hater. 

In the Satanic Bible, Anton LaVey said the following:

"You cannot love everyone; it is ridiculous to think you can. If you love everyone and everything you lose your natural powers of selection and wind up being a pretty poor judge of character and quality. If anything is used too freely it loses its true meaning. Therefore, the Satanist believes you should love strongly and completely those who deserve your love, but never turn the other cheek to your enemy!"
This happens to be one of the statements from the Satanic Bible that I resonated with the most when I first read it. Why? Because it is true. And, if that makes me a hater, then so be it. I am not afraid of the labels a petty and ignorant society throws at me. I accept your "label". I wear it with pride. Because it is true. Because I understand hate, I am also capable of understanding what real true love is and recognizing it in my life. I am not afraid of hate. I embrace it as the duality to a balanced psyche.

I refuse to be a door mat and allow others to step on my rights, my pleasures, or my desires.  I refuse to be bullied into feeling guilty or bad that I stand up for my self and for what I want.  I refuse to play silly herd games with people who have no grasp or concept of anything outside their own limited sphere of commercialized brainwashing.

I hate anyone who gets in my way. I hate anyone who does not feed my dream. I hate anyone who suggests for even one moment that I do not deserve a modicum of basic respect. And, perhaps, I hate most of all, anyone who has the audacity to suggest that I shut up and accept their idea of what I should or should not be. 

"After an inferior man has been taught a doctrine of superiority he will remain as inferior as he was before his lesson. He will merely assume himself to be superior, and attempt to employ his recently-learned tactics against his own kind, whom he will then consider his inferiors. With each inferior man enjoying what he considers his unique role, the entire bunch will be reduced to a pack of strutting, foppish, self-centered monkeys gamboling about on an island of ignorance. There they will play their games under the supervision of their keeper, who was and will always be a superior man." - Anton LaVey

I can now sit back and smile. Go ahead and employ your tactics on your peers. They are perfect as they will accept this as that is their lot in life. They will buy into the tactics. They will fear not being accepted or part of the group.

I, however, do not...and will not.  I may be fun. I may be sexy. I may be smart and a good cook and a good person to talk to. But do not let my civility fool you. I am not one of you and never have been.  Enjoy your games.  I have bigger things in life to attend to.

Now. What you might really be amused (or confused by) is the fact that I don't actually hate the two young men who said these things to me this morning. But, Josie....you said... HUSH. I know what I said. And that hate is directed towards people who have the ability or proximity to actually cause me real distress or inconvenience.  These two young men are just that. Young men. Playing a game. Maybe being serious. Maybe being silly. It really matters not. I don't hate them because they are really nothing in my world. I am sure they are something to someone. I am not trying to put them down. Only pointing out that it is far more relevent to me that we are almost out of ketchup here in the Seven household then what either of them think about me.  

A very special thank you to my Brother Nox for our chat tonight. I love You.  And I love my other dear friends who I know will read this and smile.

And a VERY very special thank you to the two young men who reminded me that I am a hater. And I am damned proud of it.

There are many who would take my time. I shun them.
There are some who share my time. I am entertained by them.
There are precious few who contribute to my time. I cherish them.