Thank you for Judge-Mental


Don’t you just love those folks who exclaim “Oh, I’m not a judgmental person!” They are lying. 

 

They are actually Judge-Mental in the most insidious kind of way.

In that secret way, that surreptitious way that keeps them safe from knowing themselves. 

They also get cornered a lot when they are trying to make important decisions about who to interact with in dark alleys.

 

I am a judge-mental person.

 

That does not mean I am bigoted or that I formulate opinions about others from a severe lack of information.

 

That does not mean I have good judgment.

In fact, judging from the way my life is going, I have evidently misjudged the distance between my mid-life aspirations and the length of my extended childhood. 

 

I have limited depth perception, so I can’t effectively judge whether I have been kicked to the proverbial curb or if I’m just standing on the edge of the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. 

 

There are those who would judge me for spending so much of my time meandering about in metaphoric crosswalks and standing on the edge of curbs instead of taking the linear route toward the other side of Living Street.

 

Those judges of my judgment are probably not Boy Scouts and can’t help me across this street anyhow.

 

I have never met a judgmental Boy Scout except those homophobic ones, but I don’t judge them for that on account of they were inundated with false information about manhood by some judgmental dude in a pretend military costume with a bunch of pretty patches sewn onto it.

 

Come Judgment Day, I will stand outside the big court room (probably on a curb next to the pearly gates) and  be judged for my own poor judgment in squandering many minutes of my life trying to judge how many ways a person can cross a street.

 

~ by leakelley on January 6, 2008.

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