A Little Camper Humor
There are few darker subjects than terrorism, which is acting out rage against innocents because you cannot or will not act it out against what actually inspires it. It’s beating up your neighbor’s kid and proudly running away, when you know you don’t stand the wisp of a chance against your neighbor himself. It’s passive-aggressive behavior – an avoidance of direct confrontation – on steroids. It’s a weird combination of murderous anger, helplessness and hopelessness. It is a psyche inspired by bloodshed and violence, fired by a perception of injustice that seemingly can only be repaid with more injustice. It can be a contribution to the betterment of mankind gone horribly askew, but in most cases, is simply a way to earn a living that feeds one’s love of hate. The psychopathic serial killer, utterly devoid of empathy, is the amateur hobbyist version, while the terrorist is one turned pro. Rallying under banners of religion or politics or activism is mere window dressing, an attempt to make one’s personal hatred gain some legitimacy or productivity. It is the dark side of purpose and accomplishment, in the belief that there will be no time of personal accountability.
Since there isn’t much that the ordinary person can do besides avoiding designated gun-free zones and passing restrictive laws in the vain hope that would-be terrorists and their minions can somehow be made to respect those laws, a little humor sometimes breaks out here and there as an expression of defiance to helplessness, a way of diffusing the subconscious unease a little.
In that spirit, the moment I competed cleaning and waxing the exterior of the FWC Grandby truck camper, I performed the first modification to it that initiates its transition from mere Grandby to its new definition. I placed a sticker onto its rear door window. Behold, I present to you the Mighty Intrepid.