Floating in the pit

Harry Drabik

More so recently, I’ve heard "illegitimate" used descriptively.

Does the term seem more current, even popular, or is it just me being sensitive because I am one?

I actually prefer bastard for its blunt directness, not to mention fits me better. But in current use illegitimate doesn’t mean status at birth that marks a time tested bastard with BB or BG on the Birth Cert giving gender. (Contemporary practice might favor the gender neutrality of BI for Baby It.)

Having little to no ability then or now to change the status of my birth, eye color or other distinguishing features I simply accepted them. Common bastard I was, am, and shall remain.

But here’s the rub that confuses me. Current use of illegitimate, especially politically, isn’t a polite way of expressing a parental background. Tell me if I’m incorrect, but isn’t illegitimate much used to signify devaluation, a false or lesser state of being?

Does political use of illegitimacy also not suggest a corrupted person, one of significantly less (enough less that there is justification in pointing out this flaw) human value?

As an ordinary bastard I can live with (which I have to, don’t I?) the notion my fundamental status is being glibly associated with questionable standing as a human.

But I am uneasy with where that’s going and even more when speakers tiptoe carefully around offensive pronouns and don’t give a care when other offense suits their purpose. It’s annoying, but not unexpected when you see bastard is a noun and illegitimate an adjective, each apparently more robust and hearty than the easily confused and offended pronoun. Lucky are they abandoning ship under the pronoun rule stating everyone is first.

In conclusion, it’s good to not be a weak and undecided pronoun. Much better being a nasty bastard. Argue with that why don’t you? (You is a spineless pronoun, don’t you .know?)

Looking, or at least trying to, at the other side can be devil’s advocate work or the not-so-popular contrary role that annoys damn near everyone. I should know, right?

In the win vs. loss view of human interaction the goal of understanding or mutual accord doesn’t count the way being a winner (even self-proclaimed) does. As it’s done too frequently these days, being the winner means emerging proud of the closed minds trophy for arrogant disregard. Stay on message is great for propaganda. Less so for understanding because the stuck-to message has to blot out and override other sides.

In politics we seem pleased with practices we’d loathe in a marriage where one side is not always to be honored and obeyed.

An uncomplicated bastard, I take a bastard’s delight in evil inclines. But have to admit I’m too simple a bastard to go for complexly Byzantine explanations.

A useful guide applied by this illegitimate SOB (no helpless pronouns were harmed in that blast) has been KISS. Not the band. I’m too much the bastard child of Tallis or Mozart for that.

I mean the other KISS, for Keep It Simple Stupid; much more to my bastardly comprehension that is.
So, in KISS mode as the water in the pit slow chilled I saw the icy formation of two distinct blobs coagulating and standing still long enough to be studied. This took quite a lot of observation, so I hope you’ll (meaning all of you reading pronouns) appreciate the effort put in; or not.

But, here they are, the two principal materializations seen in the pit before snow and slush locked them in an embrace impossible to imagine.

One lump I conveniently call the MYOB. The Mind Your Own Business coalition means pretty much what it says, roughly tend to your affairs and I’ll tend mine. This might also be expressed as Live and Let Live.
In most situations a MYOB can be counted on to rapidly tell you when your foot crosses the line.

The Iron Range, having somewhat more than its share of cow, rock and tree persons has a rather sizeable representation of MYOBers or MYOBS.

I confess a more than slight at-traction or affiliation with the MYOBS. Often portrayed as crude country hicks addicted to beer, baseball, booze, Bibles and billyclubs (had to keep the consonance going) MYOBS are stubbornly loyal and once you see past the crust, lovingly warm as the inside of a fresh loaf.

Another MYOB characteristic is that of accepting the consequences of their less-than-elegant ways. Gutting a moose is something they do (and know how) without the baggage of polemics on animal cruelty, gun violence, all God’s creatures, or benefits of tofu and soy.

An example might be like this, a MYOBIAN will think nothing of saying STFU to someone (we’ll get to them shortly) preaching the evils of blood sport as if the burger in their urban grocery got there without a cow having to die. Burger from Heaven?

The other coalescence I’ll call the UTOPS (you should be able to figure that one out) or otherwise the WWMYB for We Will Mind Your Business.

Now there’s a distinction.

WWYMBers tend to be happy in and well suited to their role (or is it a world view). Utopia is attainable if we make some changes and everyone else does too.

That lofty aim has little appeal to a MYOB but is the stuff on fulfilled living to a UTOP WWMYB.

UTOPs have a sincere desire for a better world where we live in pacific agreement. (On that aim I tip my hand to agree with the ancient Greek saying “Only the dead know Peace.”)

For simplicity sake let’s say a UTOP aims at what a MYOB avoids. I’m tempted to say UTOP and MYOB are like separate genders, but that’s off the plate currently monitored by UTOP ideology.

Here’s the interesting part. Many times neither a MYOB nor a UTOP knows what they are. This leads to unpleasantness from either standoffish grumps or impractical dreamers.

But here’s another interesting part. Every UTOP has some MYOB and vice versa, not to mention they share the same water. Boiling one away destroys the other as well.