Snarlton's Personality Assessment

I often have a conflicting view on my personality. On one hand, I am a raging extrovert. I can be quite the attention whore.  On the other hand, I find myself using the self checkout machines at the grocery store, because I just don't want to have the slightest bit of human interaction.

It understands that I hate people. And I understand that it hates frozen burritos for some reason.

I am not shy. Hell, I am not even an introvert. It's not that I savor space or quiet, but rather that I am constantly annoyed by other people. Constantly. It's gotten so bad that I've become completely nocturnal so that I no longer eat when they eat, or drive when they drive. I've developed weird OCD habits. I will not shake hands. My psychological quirks are not driven by a fear of germs, but rather a seething hatred of being forced to accept other people's stuff. It's not that I'm afraid I'll catch Ebola-SARS-Pox and die; it's that germs are other people's belongings, and I am tired of other people and their stuff in my space.

I blame society and its constant chipping at our privacy. For someone who doesn't like other people in "their bubble," American life is a constant, never-ending onslaught of intrusion. Advertising is Other People's Stuff. Their ideas, their products, their messages. Every billboard, every tv commercial, every garish brand logo has become an ice-pick to my brain. I feel like clowns are constantly waving neon flags in my face.

I am tired of the constant marketing narrative, the constant message that I need what you're selling...because I don't need what you're selling.  I don't have a kid, yet I sit through Toys'R' Us commercials. I don't have a house, yet I get mail for homeowners' insurance. I don't eat meat, yet I just wasted 2 minutes watching filthy grease dribble off a Wendy's burger.

They send me junk mail. I throw it right in the trash, but the very act of throwing it out forces me to handle it. They force me to touch that mail. They force me to look at the message, force me to see their stupid company's logo, force me to acknowledge they exist. I am being forced to physically drag around the garbage of companies that don't even apply to me. It's like harnessing a fish to a bicycle.

I am a focus group's worst nightmare. I have not met a TV commercial I have not mocked, derided, or abused. I also strictly select products by non-brandedness. I buy non-recognizable brands, preferably hidden on the lowest bottom shelf. It is a negative reaction to every screaming NutriGrain bar ad. 

And now we are entering a whole new era of post Patriot Act surveillance. It's not just that I'm forced to look at dumb billboards and commercials anymore. Now our phones are tapped. Our email can be silently read without a warrant. Our internet history is traced. There are GPS surveillance boxes under some of our cars. Cameras on every intersection. We're forced to let The Authority touch our wangs/wangettes at the airport. We are now compelled by law to let any random goon x-ray us and see us naked.


Is it any wonder I've begun to fetishize minimalism? A house with no neighbors, possessions, and no electronics; no brand logos, no surveillance, no barrage of mental garbage. I spend a lot of time thinking about an empty, windowless concrete house in the desert. It occurred to me that my ideal fantasy house might look like a giant prison to some people, and how ironic that is.

This house, with less windows.

It's not to keep me in; it's to keep them out.