The gospel of FUCK IT!

You know what I love? Not giving a fuck. Every week, it seems, I run into one thing or another that should shove me into the oozy, worm-ridden pit of (usually temporary) depression, but I'm pretty good at either sidestepping the shoving force or, in less successful instances, merely ending up knee-deep in depression.

"How do you do it, Dave?" you ask. Simple, dude-brethren and dudette-sistren: I just say FUCK IT. Fuck it, man; it works for just about anything except legitimately heavy events, like deaths of loved ones or a really traumatic break-up or a scathing, painfully true review of your art or an alien abduction or whatever. (You know heavy when it hits you.) However, when you're dealing with just about anything else, saying "fuck it" really can get you back to where you belong, which, in my case, is cruisin' through life in the 1970 GTO Judge of my mind and soul.

Say it, brethren and sistren: FUCK IT!

-Just saw the chick or dude you've got a crush on kissin' someone else? Fuck it! People do what they do, and you'll find someone else soon enough.

-Can't find your car keys? Fuck it! You didn't need to be at work on time anyway.

-Soaked in sweat the minute you step outside? Fuck it! The summer's meant to be hot.

-Out of coffee? Fuck it! Folgers is shitty.

-Spent a few hundred bucks at the local Scientology center, only to find out you've been screwed? Fuck it! Now you know better.

-Woke up with a mysterious bruise or three? Fuck it! Next time you'll drink that sixer sitting down.

-Can't make heads or tails of that Heidegger book you're reading for class? Fuck it! Read it again when it's not four hours before the exam.


And so on. Basically, brethren and sistren, I've found that not taking yourself too seriously really does wonders for your life. Keep it casual, have a laugh at your own expense, and don't sweat anything that doesn't ontologically demand it, and you'll be all right. And I mean "all right," not just "all right."

Of course, I'm not Tony "holy shit, I suckered Trey Azagthoth" Robbins, so there are no guarantees, but on the other hand, you're gettin' this pseudo-philosophical fried gold for free, so fuck it!

This attempt at humorous honesty brought to you by a completely sober (!), but sweat-drenched, D.A. Smith. Y'all take it easy, have a good one, and remember that "yesterday's for mice and gods."