Arguing about Technology
You get into debates over which operating system is better/superior/best/coolest/most-coolest/whatever. You forgot that operating systems are tools, like you. It's one thing to get sucked into a mindless debate like this for about fifteen seconds, but after one minute: you are a douche. Snap out of it. Drink a beer. Get laid. Do something to remind your one-celled brain that there's more to life than computers. Trust me: there is. You continue on arguing to the goal line and when you cross it, you are now a douche.
You blabber about which president is to blame over some particular issue you feel certain is destroying the country and all of mankind. You forgot to wait for the weekends to use your plastic bong back in high school and you were stoned out of your one-celled mind in class all week. That part where the teacher lectured you on the fact that the President does not have ANY unlimited powers, and that nearly every significant historical change that has come out of your government (besides gay sex phone call scandals) as actually the work of the House and Senate.
You start arguing like a machine gun, using bullets you soaked up from watching some news show that morning, and you start blaming "Executive Order" powers. You were stoned on that Tuesday when the lecture was about how E.O. powers can be checked as well. You also tried to feebly use that argument in defense of the issue you believe is destroying the nation, but you forgot to check if that issue had anything to do with E.O. actions, and it didn't, and now you are a major douche.
Nobody gives a flying shit what you think. You know how I know that? Because nobody gives a flying shit what I think either. In truth, none of us really knows anything. We think we do. Thinking we know something that we really don't is the most dangerously irresponsible and disingenuous thing there is.
If you're uber-religious, fine. You still can't claim to "know" everything because that would be claiming you are as knowledgeable about God as God is. Are you ready to go there?
If you're an atheist, fine too. You still can't claim to "know" everything because science hasn't solved all of the unknowns yet.
So, it looks like there's a BIG GAP in the middle where us stupid-ass humans really don't have ALL the answers. So rather than expelling hundreds of cubic feet of wasted air and ear drum torturing, how about you just STFU and be happy to believe whatever it is you believe and let me get back to work. Otherwise, you qualify as King Douche.
You got a raise or a nice tax refund. You jump for joy and do your best end zone TD dance and almost throw your back out. You start brainstorming what you're going to spend it on. I can go ahead and tell you what you're statistically most likely to do with it...
- Buy a red, blue, black or silver Chevy Camaro, Ford Mustang or Dodge Challenger
- Buy a "custom" Harley knock-off, with the standard-issue leather chaps, boots, vest, and tired-ass Nazi battle helmet.
- Buy a set of Celtic style tattoos
- Get a big screen TV
- Get your teeth whitened or a set of Invisaligns
- Get a hair weave
Thirty years ago, you would have made an extra effort to NOT spend it on anything that was considered "popular". That whole perspective of being "different", "unique", and (dare I say) "innovative" is dead and buried. Back then, you built a chopper from spare parts and it was your own creation. I know because I grew up surrounded by them. Today you buy them off a web site and click the little scroller to cycle through the options and styles. Progress isn't really progress, it's douche-gress.
War Buff Blabbering
You're at a party or bar or around a bunch of guys you're trying to impress. You start off a sentence with "what they should do in Iran is..." and tack on some verbage about sending in SEAL teams, dropping bombs, and killing massive numbers of people to prove we are the biggest and baddest-ass nation on Earth. After all, that's what Jesus would do, right? You start talking about mechanical terms and you feel a strange sexual arousal while spatting off names of tanks, planes, ships, guns, and high tech weaponry.
Then someone asks you: "Hey. Have you been in a war? Ever kill anyone?" You stammer and stumble a bit, hem and haw, and try reinforcing yourself against the blinding punches to your brain by describing how many of your friends and family are in the military. But the question is repeated, and you still can't answer it correctly. You have stepped into the Douche zone.