kálmanse, kuates: the kase of the mis-kommunikated kamouflage

True or False?

___Self-empowerment does not equate to self-importance.

___Taking ourselves seriously does not equate to self-seriousness, nor does it imply a lack of humor.

___Really, I think that your insight is out of sight.

___Really, I think that all the brilliant words are for all of us to claim. Why not? Why believe their lies that it is otherwise?

___In extreme cases, self-deprecation can be another form of passive aggression.

___In extreme cases, we must recognize that not all of us possess the same abilities and skills that allow us to properly pick up on social cues, or to interact in healthy, constructive ways. We must make certain allowances as we all struggle to gain and put into practice new technologies of love.

___This is a form of intelligence that has been blunted, denied, and systematically retarded in all of our growth processes.

___This is one of the unfortunate side effects of colonization.

___The signals are misread constantly, consistently, consensually.

___We are all left wounded and damaged. We are all left clasping already soaked bandages to infected flesh. We are unable to directly communicate anything. Every interaction results in an exponential increase in confusion. We misinterpret each signal and code through a filter of insecurity and innuendo. Any attempts to construct direct, honest lines of communication (I need this, I desire that, I am frustrated, I want you, I am sorry for what I did) are met with various forms of hostility, rejection, and violence.

___But again, this is understandable. We live in a set of relations in which direct confrontation can get you killed. The design of your camouflage pattern is the result of an impossible choice between enmity and anonymity. Passive-aggressive behavior and manipulation reign supreme. Nothing is as it will ever seem.

“Hey, we’re making a secret klubhouse.”

“Yeah. You can’t be in it. Well okay, you can be in it.”

“But first you have to learn the secret klubhouse password.”

“Which we made up.”

“Which you didn’t make up.”

“Which we are going to assume you already know.”

“Which that’s how we rolllll.”

“Yeah, that’s how we do it, baby. Chka-chka-yeeeaaah…”

“We keep it real.”

“And when you don’t know the password, we’re gonna be all laughing at you and shit.”

“Yeah. Like, ‘What? You don’t know the password?’ Cuz we want you to feel, like, stupid.”

“And guilty.”

“Yeah all guilty. And embarrassed.”

“Yeah, embarrassed. Like, basically? we want you to feel all ashamed and shit. That you’re so stupid. That you’re dumb.”

“Like it’s all on you.”

“Yeah. We’ll be all like, ‘Oh, you wanna come in? What’s the password then?’ And you’ll be all,…”

“‘Umm….what? The password?’”

“Yeah yeah, and we’ll be like, ‘Yeah fucker, the password, what’s the password?’”

“And you’ll be all, ‘Dang, I didn’t even know there was one.’”

“Yeah haha, and then I’ll be all like, ‘Whatever, you’re a pinche liar. Who ever heard of a klubhouse with no password? Idiot.’”

“Yeah, fuckin idiot.”

“But it’s okay, cuz then after a while after you’re all crying and shit, we’ll show you the password.”

“We will?”

“Yeah, stupid. Of course. Eventually.”

“Oh yeah. Eventually. But not til they’re all mocoso crying all over the place, right?”

“Yeah, of course, not til then.”

“Ha ha. Idiot.”

You know we were just waiting for an excuse, right? You could feel it all along, right? The resentment just under the surface, the hostility. We knew that sooner or later you would
slip up and leave us an opening. We never trusted you to begin with, you realize that. There was simply no other way.

You never had a chance.