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I’m an argumentative person by nature. I take pleasure in besting someone who has challenged my authority on topics such as whether or not Marilyn Manson removed his ribs so that he could perform fellatio on himself.
I won’t talk politics in a public arena like a bar or house party because that just bums everyone out, but I’ll argue with you about anything else under the sun. I don’t get into screaming matches and I won’t bring your personal details into my arguments, but sometimes in the heat of the moment I’ll say something that, to many, would be considered “wrong” or “categorically untrue.”
Occasionally, I’ll make outrageous claims like telling someone mid-argument that I invented the question mark. From time to time, I’ll accuse chestnuts of being lazy – it’s the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. And what really bothers me about these outrageous claims of mine is that I’m always getting fact checked by people in the peanut gallery.
There is a person in every group of friends who does what I’m describing. They’re usually on the quieter side, that is until a point of contention arises amongst others in the group about where James Harden went to college or who Emily Ratajkowski is married to. As a side note, I’d like it to be known that I don’t acknowledge that particular marriage and I never will. I remain steadfast in my belief that I will, at some point, call Emrata mine.
In any case, it seems as though there is always someone with their phone unlocked, ready to search Google for any facts that they deem untrue. And once they’ve found something you’ve said which Google or Ask Jeeves claims is false, they’re going to let you know about it and ruin your entire argument. Total buzzkill. Nothing sours my argumentative mood faster than a friend or acquaintance piping up out of nowhere to be like, “Uhhh, actually the Cubs had a 108-year World Series championship drought, not 100.”
In a former life as a single man in college, I would lie to both men and women while drinking about what exactly I was doing in school. Sometimes I’d be a Big Ten champion high diver, other times I would say that I was a backup punter on the football team. In 2010, that kind of chicanery was widespread across college campuses all over the country because the iPhone was still somewhat of a rarity for a commoner. I was still working with an LG flip phone and unless I wanted to use a fuckload of data (which, as we all know, is not cheap) I wasn’t getting on the internet. That thing was for texting, phone calls, and the occasional low-resolution dick pic. Just kidding about the dick pic.
My point is that there was none of this fact-checking. People would take you at your word. In group arguments, you could get away with saying something totally outlandish and people would believe it because why the hell wouldn’t they? You’ve done nothing that says you’re an untrustworthy person up to this point, so maybe he really did throw a 96 mile per hour fastball from the bag last week?
Smartphones have rendered my outrageous lies and debate tactics totally and completely worthless, and you know what? It really chaps my ass. Arguing is no fun for me anymore and I have no one to blame other than smartphone technology and the squids who insist on calling me out for every single thing I say. I can’t stand it. No one is taken at their word anymore. It’s all checked, double-checked, and then corrected with the most annoying phrase possible – “Um, actually guys I just checked Google – here take a look for yourself – and uhhhh, he’s totally wrong.” .