Who should rule the world? Teenagers, that's not who
Here’s a rare non-TERRIBLE-advice post. Yes I sometimes write them, you friggin’ numpty:
Michelle Steele asks
"What are the problems with ruling the world? Who would want the job?"
Trying to get a bunch of humans from different cultures with a bunch of competing beliefs, all headed in the same direction, would be worse than herding cats.
It’d be like herding cats who are aggressive, opinionated and are capable of rage flipping tables and shooting guns… and a number of the cats hate other cats for the colour of their fur of for their gender or just for no damn reason. Also, these cats generate significant paperwork.
The problem with ruling the world is ‘people’. That’s a bold claim and a broad assertion but I stand by it.
Who would want the job? Either people who are utterly naive and think the very best of people and are determined to improve the world or power-hungry control freaks who are willing to use force to get their way.
My answer
When I was … 15, I think, I decided I wished to take over the world. So did most of my geekier friends. We actively plotted world domination. Whether we’d be working as one big Team or would turn on each other upon reaching a certain power threshold we’d conveniently refrained from discussing.
At least I refrained. Hell, it’s only just occurred to me now: maybe everyone in the Team except me throbbed with vicious backstabby shenanigans. All I know is, I didn’t witness any. It’s entirely possible the Team’s other members considered me its most expendable patsy. I doubt it. Back then we were all mooks. But if the others’ mook-acts were just an act, then all I can say is, geez, they were one hell of a good act.
We persisted in this plotting until … I would say, our early-mid-twenties. By then we’d slowly but surely grown out of “utterly naive”. By then the plotting just kind of dissolved and petered out. Either that or this was the Team's way of ejecting its least savvy and politically astute. Now, we’re in our mid-thirties, and merely gobsmackingly naive. Or at least I am.
Don’t get me wrong! Bullshitting like this is a huge amount of fun. I’ve got nothing against bullshitting, as long as you’re aware it’s bullshitting. I know that now, in fact I encourage and I cultivate bullshit emeritus. God, it’s fun.
But my teen self didn’t realise that, not one bit. Back then, the Team and I were quite, quite serious. God, I’m glad I’m not a teenager any more.
Original: https://mikeyclarke.co.nz/blog/2021/11/who-should-rule-the-world-teenagers-thats-not-who
Hungry for more?
Bullshit Hors D’oeuvres: TERRIBLE ADVICE posts
Enjoy this snazzy sampling of hintCLICKABLEhint crowd-pleasers:
Soy milk: my childhood enlightenment on Gay vs Homosexual vs Vegetarian vs Santa Claus vs Sergeant Spacedicks
“I love how unhinged your connections are in every article! I can never guess where it's going until the end!”
The earthy wisdom of elongating your womb into adjacent postcodes: today's TERRIBLE advice
“Substack needs more of this glorious creative chaos. The 'separate postcode' theory is a masterpiece of terrible wisdom. Keeping this in mind for the next time life gets too loud”
On conscripting lesbian bitches and gay male dogs through Pray-The-Gay-Away camps for rich entitled floozies: today's TERRIBLE advice
“You're fucking hilarious.”
Bullshit Banquet: the SEXYVERSE NOVELS
*ahem*
IN A WORLD where wars are fought with romance and flirting and delicious erotic TENSION, the rivalries throbbing between history’s Great Powers have become a BUTTLOAD more bubbly, with fewer hideous massacres of musket and cannon, and OODLES more frisky cunnilingus contests:
The Sex Commandos Thwart The Third Vaginal Apocalypse
Part One: The Knights Of Raw Phwoar
Might Earth’s free nations drown under terrifying tornadoes of French femme-foam? Like hell, shout Britain’s Royal Marines Sex Commandos. Let’s assassinate France’s Imperatrix Brigitte Bardot! Come on. What’s the worst that could happen?
Part Two: The Soviet Sluts Superb
Turns out out-flirting Imperatrix Bardot is like trying to wank off Mt. Blanc when it’s wanking you back. Plan B: skedaddle, regroup, out-flirt the entirety of France and get loads more practice, then it’s stealthy-sneaky Round Two or bust.
Part Three: The Cervical Supremacy
Turns out flirting with every ladybro Rambo in France produces Rivals and Frenemies and Jilted Waifus galore. Smashing fun, but utter Kryptonite for Imperial kill-plans. Like, ever tried noshing off a world leader whilst a billion fanb0is fondle your buttocks? Want to? Read on!
Part Four: The Praetorian Prostitutes
The game’s up! The irresistible force of fanb0i-fondlemania has headbutted the immovable object of a gazillion furious Paris cops. They too thirst for Sex Commando patoot. Crunch time. Either launch one final rocket-strike against Bardot and France, or Earth’s free nations forever perish.
Part Five: [soon, baby]
Click these and enjoy these and your appetites will be SATISFIED.
Lol, for something so funny, this is also a genuinely good answer.
Haha - love your writing so much.. ‘ I cultivate bullshit emeritus! This made me lol.