Mildly Functioning...but vapid...not unlike a zombie, but less interesting

Let’s nip this in the bud.

Fad, let’s call this a fad.

Hopefully it’s a fad. But as I delve deeper into this topic, I’m beginning to find that this isn’t a fad, but an epidemic.

I’m talking about vapid people.

Rabidly Vapid.

They contribute nothing and drain resources.

In many ways they’re like zombies. The way they stumble about hither and yon...the monosyllabic vocabulary. One could argue the main difference between them and zombies is temperature and dietary habits. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say I’d sooner deal with a zombie than a vapid person if only for the feeling of accomplishment one gets from lobbing something’s head off without fear of Johnny Law coming down on you. Plus, with a zombie, you know what you’re getting into. They’re all after the same thing. At least you know they love you for your brain.

Vapid people should stand up and declare themselves as non participants and then sit back down on the couch and not leave the house ever again.

These days it’s way too easy to not talk to one another directly. And when you fall out of practice, you lose the ability to communicate. It’s like a muscle. A talkie with people muscle.

This summer, I have had a few run-ins with the “recommended homebound.” Allow me to paint you a word picture here. Say your job is a lifeguard. If a stranger (me) comes up to you and says, “Good morning,” or, “Hello,” rolling your eyes and letting out a deep sigh is probably the exact opposite of what you should actually be doing. Texting while on lifeguard duty is, I’m sure, also frowned upon. I get that this job is low-paying and that it’s time out of the day and you’d probably rather be doing other things. If that’s the case, I welcome you to go and do those other things. Perhaps you’re bored with your job or perhaps you’re having difficulty grasping the concept of a lifeguard. I say this because if you did grasp the concept of being a lifeguard, you’d put your phone away and at least make it seem like you might slightly give a shit whether or not any of the swimmers live or die. With zombies, you can count on them diving in to save you, they can’t eat your brain if you’re dead. Brains are so much better fresh. Who wants a dead brain? And since vapid people are brain dead, they’re safe from zombie onslaught…bastards.

These people are apathetic on the best of days and it’s out of control. I would love to sit up on my throne, judging all that I survey and declare, “Yes … yes, this all good. I am awesome, as is all that I gaze upon … we live in a perpetual state of awesome. And those outside are envious and hurt. And that makes me smile.”

No I can’t say that, because it is untrue.

We, as a civilization have made it WAY too easy to not interact with one another. In fact, we go out of our way to shield ourselves from dealing with each other directly. I actually know people, as I’m sure you do too, who won’t pick up their phone, even when you’ve been texting back and forth and you decide, “Screw it, I’ll just pick up the phone and talk to this shmoe.” Sounds reasonable, right? Wrong. Thanks to the cell phone. You can order entertainment, pay bills, forage for food and dump people without uttering a peep much less a “thank you” or in the case of dumping, "fuck you".

To illustrate this conundrum, please allow me to point out the craze of “planking.” If you don’t know what this is, it’s the idea of taking a picture of yourself, expressionless and face down, lying on your stomach, stiff as board. It’s a real thing, really. Um … huh? Perhaps getting older is turning me into a humorless codger, but honestly, a picture of a person contributing nothing except a faint pulse isn’t something that I’d like to stash in a book of precious memories somewhere. Because everything eventually evolves into something else, “owling” has sprung forth from planking, like this ridiculous non-exercise needed a sequel. These activities involve nothing but mimicking a corpse or squatting like a primate giving birth.

But I digress. These are merely the results of an oxymoronically thriving vapid culture. (Vapid. It’s one of my favorite words. It is almost onomatopoetic.)

How do I know if I’m vapid?

Perhaps this example will give you an idea as to the sorts of so-and-so's I’m talking about. I ride my bike to work because A) gas is stupidly expensive these days, B) It keeps me in shape, C) I can park anywhere. That said, I ride like my hair’s on fire. If I have to slam on my brakes to avoid greasing your oblivious ass because you’re texting or chatting on the phone when you’re crossing the street, then you’re clearly part of the problem and this should be seen a green light to start harvesting your organs. At least then we could perhaps save the life of someone whose sole purpose involves more than rolling their eyes or whining about what they’re being asked to do.

A Quick Word to the Vapid

The world is here to engage you, if you are uninterested in interacting, don’t venture out into it. Loping around like the living dead is a waste of everyone’s time. I urge you to stop treating your brothers and sisters of this planet like cardboard cut-outs to be used like vending machines.

I know we should feel graced because you decided to show up. The reality of it is this: Go home.

And if you stroll into my path, you either have a death wish or you aren’t entirely here to begin with. I go fast and get irritated with folks who slow me down. There’s probably a metaphor for life in there somewhere, but whatev.

Yup, I’m that guy.