Nobody wants to hear your opinion

Everyone knows just why the weather sucks, why poverty's on the rise, and why gas prices are so high, and they're more than happy to give you their (usually unsolicited) opinion as to why. Never mind that they rarely have any factual ground to base these opinions on, or that they've even thought them through…no, this is America, where we live by one simple equation: Opinion=Fact.

In fact, we've even got this neat little invention now called Talk Radio where you can call up your favorite shrill and abrasive radio personality and broadcast your silly and unfounded "theories" as to the why-of-everything to the world at large. Oh goody! Research, independent thought and the civilized debate as we know them are effectively dead. He who shrieks loudest is right nowadays.

Truth is, if I want your opinion, I'll ask for it. Have you heard me ask? No? Then keep it to yourself, already. Case in point: I was chatting with a local police officer yesterday, and when he was out of earshot, another guy (who I've never even met) walked up and said, "God, those guys are all *$%holes. It's a waste of our tax dollars."

Huh? I asked for clarification, and it turns out the guy was angry because he got a speeding ticket. Well…was he speeding? Yes. Okay. There is no traditional avenue of deduction that leads from that to the pronouncement that cops are *$%holes. But to this guy, that was the easiest train of thought. (The officer in question is a great guy, too.)

Another example of stunning intellect: I was pumping gas and a woman at the pump next to me blurted out that our men and women in the military were giving their lives in the birthplace of Western Civilization "for George Bush's Oil Buddies." Seriously, if the only reason we're over there is to lower the price of oil, we're just not doing a very good job, gang. And yet, I had a dirty young woman in a paisley skirt and Birkenstocks vehemently harangue me with this argument, even though I hadn't given any indication that I even wanted to talk to her. I told her that, judging from the clouds of Patchouli incense that were wafting from her car, that the local police might be taking interest in its contents, and that from what I'd heard, they could be real &*^holes. She called me a Fascist. I don't think she actually knew what a fascist is.

So this is what passes for polite conversation these days? It's no wonder I keep to myself. Seriously, if you can't find anything more civil and polite to talk about, then perhaps it's best that you keep quiet.