I’m riffing off of a post from Living History responding to the everpresent question of “why do you do this horribly inconvenient thing that most people would feel uncomfortable with?”. The answer is properly summarised by this post’s title.
Hey, Matt, why are you doing a grad degree in computing science rather than going out into industry and making immediate money? Well, first of all, because I want to hang out with people who are on the cutting edge of the state of the art. I want to do shit that no-one’s done before; I want to solve hard problems, rather than just problems that my supervisor thinks his boss thinks his boss thinks his VP will think the CTO thinks will be profitable. I want to do — and I have done — shit that no-one’s ever done before; I want to advance the state of human knowledge and understanding. And because FUCK YOU, that’s why.
Hey, Matt, why do you study martial arts when your taxes are paying for a national police force with shotguns and tasers and shit? Because they can’t be everywhere whenever I need help; because I don’t want them to be everywhere I might possibly need them. Because I enjoy learning how to deal with physical situations (heh heh… euphemisms, anyone?) without anyone else’s intervention. And because FUCK YOU, that’s why.
Hey, Matt, why are you so interested in the mechanics of the credit crisis? Well, maybe i give a shit about how we got into this situation so that I can vote in a way that minimizes our likelihood of getting into the same trouble twenty (or eighty) years from now. More realistically, maybe I want to be able to tell my kids how we got fucked over by the Boomers and why I’m not responsible. Maybe I have a wildly optimistic hope that I’m not going to be fucked over by my parents’ generation. But mostly, FUCK YOU, that’s why.
Hey, Matt, why do you play violent video games? Because it’s an entertaining technical challenge. If you’re looking for a moral hazard, here, you probably ought to look elsewhere better supported by modern sociology. And, by the way, FUCK YOU.
The notion that I ought to tailor my behaviour to appease those with little imagination who might dare to judge me for what I do that doesn’t affect them offends me. And to those who are sufficently self-satisfied to take time out from their own problems to question my own actions… hey, sugarplum, FUCK YOU!
If you think I have to answer to your own insecurities, you’re just a tad bit mistaken. Go on and die in a fire. My problems are my own, and as long as they don’t concern you, they’re none of your goddamn business. So, sweetheart… FUCK YOU!
LMAO. Strike that. Make it LMFAO.
This goes along perfectly with an explanation I gave to a very good friend.
“Why do I play games, or spend money on what you call toys? Because I can. I’m an adult. I have responsibilities. I work for a living, come home, and do my best to make sure that I have fulfilled those responsibilities. After that, what I do, with my own time & money, is entirely up to me. If you don’t like to see me ‘wasting’ my money, or doing things that you find immature, then turn around & walk away. I remind you that I have every right in the world to punch you in the nose. But my right to do so stops just before contact is made. This means that you have every right in the world to disagree with my hobbies, or dislike what I choose to do in my spare time. But your right to do so stops the moment you OPEN YOUR STUPID FUCKING LIBERAL-BIASED, BUSYBODY MOUTH.”
(Considering that he is, if anything, a little bit to my RIGHT on the spectrum, this last bit caused a small amount of alcohol abuse as he spewed a mouthful of beer across the room, and then accused me of deliberately timing the last line to coincide with him taking a large swig from his beer glass. I’ll rest on my Fifth Amendment Rights for that one.)