What’s Shitting Me About… Bullshit by Jo Thornely
Okay, so I don’t mind a little bit of bullshit. None of us would have jobs, boyfriends, girlfriends or clean criminal records without a reasonable dose of fact-yoga. But there are some specific types of bullshit that have been allowed to keep on bullshitting for weeks, sometimes centuries, and I’m sick of it. If I’m going to be lied to, it needs to be because someone wants to either get into my pants or get out of trouble, not to empty my wallet or toy with my fragile, vulnerable, girly emotions. If I want to spend a lot of money and feel insecure, I’ll just date a guy in his twenties.
Horoscopes & Psychics
It’s just a bit of fun! Hahahahaha! My psychic knew things about me that nobody could possibly know! Wheeee! Shut up. Do you want to know why you like reading horoscopes and listening to psychics? Because they’re talking about YOU. They’re telling you what all your good points are, and what your kind-of-admirable-actually bad points are, like the fact that you’re too sensitive, or you choose the wrong men because you give too much of yourself away, or you slept with the entire football team because of your relentless search for fulfilment. Horoscopes and psychics tell you things about you in a world where nobody else is talking about you, or if they are talking about you, they’re saying things like ‘How long has this been in the fridge‘, or ‘Why haven’t you finished that report yet’, or ‘That skirt makes you look like a whore’. Why does no horoscope or psychic ever say “You will die alone in a council flat and you should really get that mole looked at”? Because they’re bullshit. But seriously, that mole looks weird.
Homeopathy And All That Other Crap
It’s been approved by the Therapeutic Goods Administration! It’s been used for a hundred years! Doctors don’t like it because it will send them broke! Okay. It’s been approved by the TGA because it doesn’t DO anything. The TGA is presented with a product that has neither side-effects NOR ACTUAL EFFECTS, and they’re going to put it in the “sure, go ahead, knock yourself out” category. People used it a hundred years ago because there were just as many custard-brained gawp-eyed morons back then as there are now, but with a little bit less science. And doctors don’t like it because it’s bullshit. Go get a Panadol.
Fight The Seven Signs Of Bullshit.
You’re getting older. You’re even a little bit older now than you were when you first started reading this. There’s only one sign of ageing, and it’s the fact that you’re alive, because everyone alive is doing it. The only way you can actually stop ageing is to die, and then you’re just swapping your crow’s-feet-and-laugh-lines problem for rigor mortis, the smell of decay and the slow seeping of body fluids into the carpet. Sure, there’s Botox and fillers and facelifts which help a bit, but that moisturiser that costs eight hundred dollars per ten millilitres of snake venom and bull sperm? It doesn’t do anything except make you a person who walks around with bull sperm on their face and can’t afford a sandwich. The same goes for repairing split ends and losing eight centimetres of belly fat using this weird old tip. It’s bullshit.
Chain Mail
If you don’t forward that email to ten people, you won’t suddenly be hit by a bus, or have a baby’s life-support machine switched off, or get sudden-onset emphysema. If you do forward that email, the main thing that will happen is that most of the people you forward it to will cross you off the list of people they were planning to invite to an event that lots of people who aren’t arseholes are invited to. And you know the picture of the little baby on life support that you saw on Facebook who will get a heart transplant for free if just one thousand people like or share it? That little baby is now twenty-seven years old and works in real estate. It’s what? It’s bullshit.
Things That Get Rid Of Toxins While You Sleep, Or Tony Abbott, Or Mobile Phones Making Petrol Bowsers Explode, Or Nigerian Inheritances, Or Ghosts, Or John Edwards Contacting Your Dead Grandma, Or Ginger People Having Souls
Nup.
