Haltom's Laws

Haltom's First Law helps to sort things and persons out.

"Rump Parliament" turns now to rationalization of Haltom's laws. I have formulated various norms over the last 35 years. Some of my norms posit behavioral regularities based on my perverse interpretations of observations and experiences. Other norms prescribe how I aspire to live or ought to live. I have adapted many of these "laws" from the adages or apothegms of others. As far as I recall, some originate with me. I propose to enumerate my behavioral or normative laws so that I can keep track of what I "know."

My first law expresses misanthropy and/or futility -- "F**k them/it/me/this."

This first law is misanthropic in that I mean it to misstate slightly Kipling’s famed advice -- all men count with me but none too much. When I say "F**k them" or "F**k 'em," I mean to dismiss some person(s) as unworthy of concern or solicitude. More polite formulations of this usage might include "Life is too short to worry about this fellow" or "Why concern yourself with such a person?" Perhaps Rick Nelson came the closest to a denotation of Haltom's First Law in his song “Garden Party:” “You can’t please everyone so you got to please yourself.”

I derived my first law from the cliché "F**k him if he can’t take a joke." I complemented that old saw. If he or she can take a joke now, he or she will not be able to take a joke later, so why not f**k him or her now and get it over with? The sooner one turns one's attention and energies from someone who will fritter them away, the sooner one will have attention and energy for those who might profit from one's regard.

Hence, when confronted with whining, misplaced entitlement, or other resentments, I draw on my Ballard upbringing: I exclaim "Uff da!" and move on. I think but usually do not say, "F**k 'em." A variation on this melody recalls my buddy from Far Rockaway who could say "F**k you" as if each word had multiple syllables. And, of course, one might emulate Vice President Cheney's suggestion that Senator Leahy have sexual congress with himself.

When I say "F**k it" rather than "F**k them," I mean that some matter [rather than some person] lies beneath my regard. "To hell with it" would work as well, I suppose, but would not be as pithy. "F**k it" dismisses matters from my mind. It assigns some thing to that 98% of all incidents or issues best forgotten.

"F**k me" I got from Clint Eastwood's film "The Gauntlet." Clint's character lifts a shade and sees dozens of guns and gunmen outside the shack he is in. He exclaims, "F**k me!" That is a little more graphic than "I am a dead man" or "Holy Mother of God!" Still, like "F**k it," "F**k me" expresses the all too common futility of life or situations.

A colleague in 2007 exemplified the use of "f**k this" to express futility. He became exasperated with maneuvers to prevent senators from acknowledging the simplest truths about the Professional Standards Cult [PSC]. Recalcitrant or cowardly senators were engaged in implausible denials, in disinformation that demeaned the Senate as well as the cult [and demeaning the PS Cult is no mean feat!], and in excuses that would shame Bill Clinton. Amid the disingenuous, the deceptive, and the daffy, one senator exclaimed, "F**k this!" and picked up his stuff and left. Some senators pronounced themselves offended [see Haltom's Eighth Law]. Perhaps the most Pecksniffian senator decried the remark as lacking civility. He had a good point: The civil thing to do would have been to condone evasions and occlusions and to avoid admitting that a rogue committee had misbehaved repeatedly. Still, whatever this invocation of Haltom's First Law lacked in civility it made up in honesty. The senator meant, I believe, that the proceedings were a waste of his and the senate's time. That senator complied with Haltom's first law without being aware of it, I think.

So, when colleagues are conniving in some manner that demeans all present, quietly repeat to yourself variations of Haltom's First Law. When colleagues dissemble in committee-work, write on a pad that no one else can see, "F**k them." When faculty meetings again devolve into self-serving badinage, pick up your papers and walk out of the room, stopping to whisper, "F**k this!" to a colleague who can be trusted. When yet another email invites you to throw good time after bad, feel free to say behind a closed door, "F**k it." The alternative is to awaken amid the "Fall Faculty Non-Conversation" screaming, "F**k me!" That might be uncivil.


Coming Soon: Haltom's Second Law! "It Doesn't Mean Nothing."