Leary, Denis - Why We Don't Suck by Leary Denis

Author:Leary, Denis [Leary, Denis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crown/Archetype
Published: 2017-10-24T00:00:00+00:00

You may have noticed that in both the Twelve Demandments and the New Seven Deadly Sins, Plus One, the only mention of killing was to enable you to defend yourself. I didn’t list murder because we all know it’s just unacceptable.

Plus, it takes too much time.

First you have to plan it all in advance, coordinate your schedule with the victim’s schedule, pick a place where there won’t be any witnesses, and then map out approach and escape routes. But even if it’s a sudden crime of passion, you still have to clean afterward. For hours on end.

Walls and floors need to be wiped down and mopped up. Fingerprints have to be buffed off of doorknobs and kitchen utensils. Even if you wear gloves, you have to worry about fabric fibers and blood smudges.

This is even before driving the body someplace to dispose of it, unless you plan on cutting it up—and THAT’S a mess you’ll be spending all night on—not to mention having to buy industrial-strength garbage bags, large gallons of disinfectant, and a selection of small power saws. And you’ll probably have to do laundry, too. Or find an incinerator. Or burn your pants, shirt, and shoes in the woods somewhere. Which involves even MORE driving. And a change of clothes.

No wonder they pay hit men so much money.

This is where good old-fashioned revenge comes in. Sure it may take longer. But revenge is sweet—and highly underrated.

I have this thing that happens to me whenever I hate somebody: their name disappears from my memory bank. This happened even when I was in my thirties and not worried about early-onset Alzheimer’s or the faded edges of the aging process. If you fucked me over, my brain erased your name. I could remember your face, but I’d have to ask a friend or coworker, “What the hell was the name of that guy we hated who used to be at HBO?”

But deep in the forested Irish recesses of my gray matter is a lush green clearing where I can always find My Top Five Enemies of All Time. Selfish evil assholes I came across early in life who screwed me and my friends over in so deliberate and criminal a fashion that I’m still waiting for each one to die a long, horrible, and early fucking death.

I don’t nurse my grudges. I juice them with steroids and keep them in cage-fighting shape.

The late great Carrie Fisher once said something I’ll never forget: “Revenge is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.”

And that may be true.

But in the case of these guys, it’s not a daily venomous bile that restricts my ability to enjoy life. It’s not even a weekly dose of noxious air that momentarily shuts down my operating system.

It’s just a latent desire to celebrate if the news arrives that one of them has been smote by karma.

Or cancer.

Or a bus.

’Cause that’s what gets me in this God business: karma. Too often in my life I’ve seen great men and women wiped off the planet long before their time.

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