Without-Feathers.com

Men often oppose a thing merely because they have had no agency in planning it, or because it may have been planned by those whom they dislike.
Alexander Hamilton

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Dislikes

Romy

Loud noises bother me. Maybe it’s a result of being raised in an apartment, but I can’t stand loud TVs, loud music, loud voices, loud anything. Same with bright or flashing lights—a few seconds of that, and I have to shut my eyes and leave the area.

As much as I hate intolerance, I think I hate the latest brand of “tolerance” just as much. Sure, it’s wrong to pass judgment on people because of the things they can’t help (disabilities, physical appearance, sexual orientation, etc.), but I think it’s perfectly fine to pass judgment on them because of their beliefs. Let’s face it—some beliefs and opinions are just plain laughable. I’m always happy to engage in a good debate, and I respect anyone who is willing to do so, regardless of what their beliefs may be. Hey, if you don’t want to stand up and defend your beliefs, get some new ones.

People in general tend to annoy me, but certain types annoy me more than others. For instance, religion recruiters bug the hell out of me—you know, the folks who go door-to-door with little pamphlets, or who don’t even introduce themselves before they launch in about “the glory of Jesus,” or who become raving lunatics when you tell them you’re an atheist. Not as vehement, but still as annoying, are the base-coverers: those who refuse to go to any extreme on any subject, hovering in the gray area so that they don’t offend anyone. It’s one thing to say you’re still considering, or that you simply don’t have enough information to decide; it’s another thing entirely to try and appease everyone by accepting the “validity” of every single opinion on the Earth. That’s just being spineless. Pretentiousness pisses me off—I love people who are clever and articulate, but using twenty five-syllable words where ten smaller ones will do just shows that you’re trying too hard. And then there are the rebels, the ones who think that having a tattoo or wearing a rude T-shirt or dyeing their hair green makes them “non-conformist.” They’re very fond of saying “shocking” things, and they’ll do almost anything to be “different.” Buying your clothes at Hot Topic and wearing too much make-up does not make you different. Doing your own thing, even if it’s something uncool (like knitting, or opera, or speed skating), does.

As I type this, my mother is watching Smokey Joe’s Cafe in the living room, and I have to say, I’m starting to hate it with a vengeance.

Bad English bothers me, as does incorrect spelling and faulty punctuation. Logical phrases mangled into nonsense bother me—you “could care less”? Have you even stopped to think about that phrase? Misplaced apostrophes make me see red. And the online tendency to confuse “bear” and “bare” makes me weep for the fate of humanity.

Those dorky little microphone headsets singers wear while they’re performing on stage. We all know you’re not really singing, so can we just lose the visual clutter? For that matter, I dislike the fact that singers do all that damn “performing” anyway. If sitting on a stool and strumming a guitar was good enough for your predecessors, it’s good enough for you. Stop with the prancing; start with the singing.

Crowds make me skittish, parties make me tired, and family reunions generally end in shame and disgrace.

Sunshine makes me want to hide under a rock. Cold makes me want to set that rock on fire just to keep warm. Give me a summer thunderstorm any day.

The older I get, the less I enjoy cleaning. Probably that’s because I’m now responsible for a two-bedroom apartment. And since I moved to the third floor, laundry has become a real chore. (But it was a chore to begin with, wasn’t it?)

While I do like Agatha Christie novels (and I’m a die-hard Poirot fan), I’m getting very sick of Miss Marple, in all her various mediums (book, TV, movie, etc.). Maybe it’s time for the old bird to retire...

Even though I like tomato soup, I can’t stand tomatoes. Sole exception: tomatoes grown in the south of France, which taste like... like really, really tasty tomatoes.

Web-wise, I hate pop-ups, pretentious (and/or fandom-based) domain names, and scripts that do things to my status/title bar or cursor. JavaScript pop-up messages will result in the creator’s utter damnation. Also despised: use of a ♥ symbol in place of the word “love.” What, you can’t be bothered to spell it out? (Even worse: people who actually say “I heart _____” as if heart was the original word in the phrase.)

I hate taking photographs, but only because I’m so terrible at it. My mother let me man the camera during parts of our trips to England and France, and that’s why half of our snapshots are blurred images of hands, feet and brick walls. Thank goodness I married a man with photographic talent.

I’m not too fond of clowns, but it’s nowhere near the phobia most people seem to have about them. For me, it’s more of an annoyance thing, because clowns never know when to back off; after five minutes of having balloon animals shoved in my face and squeaky things sounded off next to my ear, I’m bound to lose my patience with even the nicest-looking clown. Also, what’s up with those sad clowns? Why would I find such a sad face entertaining?

Excessive cursing is annoying, but you know what’s even worse? Not cursing at all. If you’re creative enough to find other words to express yourself with, fine, but don’t resort to simply replacing letters with blanks or symbols. That just makes you look like a wuss.

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