Plastic Pater

(inspired largely by results at

I live in a house of plastic people. Behind our faces is faeces, behind our smiles is a rotten core, a piece-of-shit mockery of family. This is thanks in no small part to my father.

My father is a dictatorial egomaniac who, like all other dictatorial egomaniacs, loves to rule through fear. He feels best when he’s asserting his superiority by putting another person down, and is automatically offended when somebody tries tossing a riposte back at his direction. This is because anything that comes from him is a joke, and anything tossed back at him is an insult. His is the only opinion that counts, no matter how far away it is from a discussion, and he will repeat it again and again because the things he knows are the only things that count. He is slightly deaf, which he utilizes in order to feign ignorance, or sometimes simply ignore a statement entirely, in order to impress on other people that all their insights are worth nothing and that his is the deepest, the only one that matters. When he finds fault in a person, particularly one of his sons, there is absolutely no use in arguing over the matter, since every point taken against him is a blow to his superiority in the house, reasoning be damned. Woe to whoever makes him feel this, as everything thereafter will simply boil down to the point that he can shout louder, punch harder, and break more things around the house than you can.

His most definitive characteristic, however, is his drinking. Ever competitive with everyone around him, he prides himself on being able to outdrink people half his age and still drive home, that teenage argument which stipulates that intoxication’s effects only apply to motor functions. Unknown to him, the alcohol he ingests targets a more complicated part of his brain: his memory, both short and long-term. When he comes home from a drinking session, he will pester any person unfortunate enough to be awake with endless inquiries of why you are still up. Within moments, these will turn into angry commands for you to go to sleep because you are wasting electricity by having the lights up on such a late hour, complete with comments on how useless that thing you are doing is, whatever it may be. Offer up any resistance, reasoned or not, to his command, and he will automatically feel insulted, resulting in yet another broken glass or slammed door. There is no use in feeling insulted in any way, however, as any incident will be forgotten by him once he is snoring in his bed, contented that he has asserted his superiority over the house for another night. He will wake up feeling refreshed, happy and conscience-clear, blissfully unaware of anything that will have happened the night before.


One thought on “Plastic Pater

  1. Seems familiar. My father is slightly deaf too, though I have a hunch he’s feigning it for the sake of skipping questions and confrontations. (This is partially my fault since confrontations / questions, I think, become useless when repeated.)

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