retro rage

I think I’m coming down with a little somethin’. My head feels fuzzy and full of fluid.

I’m also having a case of what I call Retro Rage.

These two things will combine tragically, I’m sure, to make an unreadable rambling post. But I imagine that won’t stop me. Sad.

All right. So anyhoo …. Retro Rage is when you are reminded — totally out of the blue, this is key — of something that has pissed you off in the past, but you don’t generally think about it, and then — KA-POW! — you realize that you are in NO way over it and could easily go off on a rant about it — oh, and the more minuscule and irrational, the better.

For instance, maybe you remember you’re pissed off about soy milk. (I am.)

Or maybe you remember you’re enraged by that little strip-of-movie-film cartoon guy that romps about during the “Keep your yaps shut” part of the movie previews at your local theatre. (I totally hate that little Filmy. I will not even LOOK when he is on the screen. I cannot explain my hatred, but I hate everything he is and does. And it’s SO stupid. He’s a cartoon character who’s on the screen for maybe 90 seconds, Trace. Please calm your wild ass DOWN.)

Or for instance, right now, this exact moment, you may be having a Retro Rage attack about panda bears and “panda people.” Like me.

Just out of the blue, I sit and remember that they piss me off. So excuse me while I manage my Retro Rage attack by ranting my way to “clear,” mmkay?

Look, pandas are slow-moving, stupid lumps who are only “cute” because of three things: Their black-and-whiteness, their fuzzy lumpen-ness, and their perceived cuddliness. And perceived cuddliness really chaps my hide. It’s not fair. If you think a certain animal is cute and lovable because it seems cuddly, because maybe you could get widdat in a snuggle-wuggums way, YOU, my friend, are clearly a cuddlist. You are basically deeming other animals not worthy of your love and support because THEY seem LESS cuddly.

And remember Timothy Treadwell, people. The notion of perceived cuddliness drove him more and more bonkers til it got him killed and EATEN. Now a panda may not kill you and eat you — they are too slow-moving and stupid — but they might clonk you on the head with a bamboo shoot. Not very cuddly, huh?

Three asinine things coming together to make people insane: black-and-whiteness, fuzzy lumpen-ness, perceived cuddliness.

That’s gotta be it. That combo. I mean, where are the people going berserk about zebras? They don’t exist. Why? Because zebras, while also black and white, have no attendant fuzzy lumpen-ness or perceived cuddliness.

Where are the people wanting to snuggle the killer whale? Nowhere. No fuzzy lumpen-ness. No perceived cuddliness.

Look, I see this panda mania a lot. (Do NOT make a pun about panda-monium in the comments. I will go on a statewide killing spree. I swear.)

The World Famous Zoo here in my town is always hosting out-of-town pandas in ridiculously posh digs complete with their very own color commentators. I know. I’ve seen it. There’s always some khaki-bottomed zoo person describing every move of those lazy black-and-white fur cookies. Do other zoo animals have constant commentary from boring, khaki-bottomed people? No, they do NOT. They are discriminated against for their lack of black-and-whiteness and fuzzy lumpen-ness and perceived cuddliness.

You want some color commentary, people? Okay. Here’s your panda commentary:

Okaaay …. now he’s eating …… ohhh! look at — noooo, eating some more ….. chhhewing ……. you knnnow, pandas eat 12 hours a day …… (YA THINK????) so, um, come back in 13 hours and ….. ummm, maybe he’ll be doing something else.

But lemme tell you this — one thing they definitely won’t be doing is having sex, which is what they’re supposed to be doing, but their slow-moving bodies and stick-filled bellies make them too sluggish to do what the whole damn world wants them to do. I mean, lots of money is changing hands here, Gao Gao, for you to get bizzy wid it, not just roll and waddle and chow down on weeds.

Shiftless, frigid lumps.

Don’t believe me? Okay. Fine. Go watch this.

I remember a few years back, when one of those panda freeloaders bunking at The World Famous Zoo was about to be deported back to China, people here went absolutely crazy with grief. I mean, I could tune into the local news on any given evening and watch people, grown-up people, normal-looking people, standing at the panda mansion, weeping pathetically, “Bu-bu-bu-bye, Hua Mei! Oh, we’ll miss you SO much!!” As if the bear was understanding them, taking their ridiculous grief under advisement. As if publicly blubbing like a baby would actually MOVE the panda to change her mind and STAY. “Gee, that Donna’s really broken up. Maybe I should rethink this.”

I LITERALLY THOUGHT I WOULD GO CRAZY WATCHING PEOPLE GO CRAZY!!

Then it got worse. These same people, having flushed themselves far into the insanity sewer, started WRITING FAREWELL NOTES TO THAT DAMN LAZY BEAR! They read them on camera, weeping, weeping. They drew little drawings, weeping, weeping. They were so swept away with disproportionate grief they had no idea the real tragedy taking place was the on-camera cracking of their entire psyche.

Don’t bid some sad farewell to the stupid, shiftless bear; kiss your freakin’ sanity goodbye, Slappy.

Please, please, listen to me: Panda bears are VERY dangerous animals. They take people to the brink of crazy and push ’em over with a stick.

And they totally piss me off.

Okay. There. I actually feel better now. Clearing …. clearing …. annnnd clear.