Types of Insults

( 5 Votes ) It’s never fun to be insulted. In grade school, the only logical response is to just fire back retaliating insults. This strategy is discouraged in adulthood, and rightly so. Can you imagine telling your principal to “shove it” when he tells you that your teaching strategies are not “student centered” (whatever that means) enough? However, reaching adulthood doesn’t make it any easier to digest insults. If anything, criticism takes on more weight as age progresses. Adults tend to become more personal and accurate with their attacks. But how does one handle it emotionally? I was under the impression that with age and wisdom, one is supposed to be more apt to handle “constructive” criticism.”

The closer the person is, the harder it becomes to happily receive their insults. Recently, my own wife gave me a triple dose of verbal vitriol. After a terrible day at work, I came home to hear what my wife had learned from a daytime talk show. She told me that if I quit smoking and lost 20 pounds, my penis would grow a good 2-3 inches. So, I’m stinky and disgusting because I smoke. Apparently, I’m the only one who gained some weight via college and marriage. And my penis is too small. Wow.

On the other hand, It’s an exercise in futility to tell her that her constant nagging has transformed her into a mother as opposed to a life-long partner. I’m too nice to tell her that my legs and thighs are chiseled in comparison to her flabby and cellulite ridden derriere. I’m too respectful of her effort and thoughtfulness to let her know that her cooking is amateurish at best; in fact, I am the better chef. The older I get, the more convinced that “conflict resolution” is merely the act of one taking it up the ass while the other remains blissfully convinced of his or her own superiority.

The above “direct insults” are only one of two classes of discourtesies. The other category consists of “indirect insults;” even if I was a complete asshole, it would be difficult and socially unacceptable to combat the latter. My wife’s triple whammy came right off the heels of a dose from a distant family member. My wife’s Aunt Tammy, a fifty-three-year-old woman still living with her parents, insulted my unborn son and me and my wife’s ability to parent. She used the “indirect” method of insidious attack.

It happened at one of my wife’s my baby showers. It was the standard affair; a handful of females sit around the mother while she opens a litany of baby clothes and more miniature blankets than one could ever possibly use. It went smoothly until she opened Aunt Tammy’s gift: a Mr. Wonderful doll. It’s about a twelve-inch tall replica of the perfect man. He’s handsome as hell, well-dressed, and knows just what to say. Pulling his string compels him to utter many charming phrases. “You know honey, why don't you just relax and let me make dinner tonight,” and “The ball game isn't really that important, I'd rather spend time with you,” are just a few. He’s one helluva guy.

There are many things wrong this present that could be interpreted as insulting. In any case, it’s way too advanced. My son will not have the motor skills to be able to pull Mr. Wonderful’s string. If I plan on letting my son play with this thing, I’m permitting one of his first experiences to be failure. Also, Mr. Wonderful is a gender-specific toy. Were it age appropriate, it’s still not sex-appropriate. My son would require something more along the lines of a Miss Terrific doll. Is Aunt Tammy already foreseeing that my son would prefer a Mr. Wonderful? And finally, the toy suggests that perhaps my wife and I aren’t ready for children. Provided my son is super advanced for a newborn, the pull string represents a pretty serious strangling hazard that you’d have to be a moron not to recognize. Does Aunt Tammy want us to kill our baby because of our drastic immaturity? Is young Jack really better off dead?

Ultimately, there are two sides to insults. Direct ones are easy to see but may or may not warrant retaliation. These are actually the less emotionally destructive. Indirect insults, on the other hand, are in the eyes of the beholder. They are not as obvious. They are the kind which you know are there, but you can’t even begin to talk about them to others. They’re subtle; you know it, and the insulter knows it, but you can’t discuss it. You have to carry it around while constantly wondering if the enemy in question really meant to piss you off. Asking others is an obvious admittance to being socially incompetent and flat-out paranoid. Plus, who can you trust to be discreet? Who’s to say you tell a coworker that you think another colleague just silently owned you, and the coworker doesn’t go around talking about how utterly George Costanza nuts you are? But if you keep it to yourself, if you don’t confront the slights which you know exist, they begin to build. The person knows he or she can get away with it, so they keep coming. Before you know it, you really are jumping at shadows and have turned into a paranoid monster nobody wants to be around.

Probably the best answer to besting indirect slights is to be become even less educated and motivated than the person giving the insults. Start drinking, smoking, and holding your breath for long periods of time; burn some of those overactive brain cells. Be less productive but brag more frequently at work. Build yourself up while at the same time dumbing yourself down. Before long, you won’t even recognize direct insults, much less indirect ones. That kind of blind confidence could do wonders for your self-esteem and others' perceptions. It’s the perfect solution to rising to the top of the social and professional food chain. No, don’t thank me. I’m just a normal citizen doing one’s part to educate his fellow man and woman, both for home and the workplace.

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