When I’m at peak misanthropy, I wonder about all the importance given to apologies. Nobody’s perfect, everyone says. It’s an accepted truth, such as “people make mistakes”, “shit happens”, “I’m a Gemini”, and other gems of exculpation. And sure, admitting being wrong is a big ask:
Who the hell wants to go through that.
But however deep my distrust for humanity gets, I remember that violence is not the answer. Talking with honesty and seeking resolutions in good faith is the way to resolve conflict, if you’re a grown-ass person and not a fascist, I mean. Aggression has only one place: the football field. Although not the backfield if you’re a quarterback. Let’s be real: the roughing the passer calls are getting ridiculous.
I can get behind the “Do not pancake the QB” rule (a.k.a. The Siragusa Ban), that’s fine. The below the knee Brady Rule, mmrrrmghmg, ok; guess that’s reasonable. Hitting the QB’s helmet, even accidentally [starts muttering, trails off].
But the shove by a defensive player a millisecond after the QB passes the ball is too much. It’s too much! It’s not called consistently and you can’t coach against basic physics. Mass, acceleration and a murderous intent cannot be legislated out of the game, gimme a break! I really hope the refs don’t shaft a playoff team’s defense through a penalty for mincy pawing Mr. Perfect Untouchable Most Precious Asset Quarterback. Imagine if, Gamblor forbid, that sinks the Detroit Lions. That would be an offense no apology can cure—oh, there’s the rails, good.
An apology, a real one, requires admitting a mistake and making amends. Some might add that a pledge of never doing that again must be part of the apology, but that contract is only enforceable in Utopia Neverland. My guesstimate is that 85% of the time, a public “sorry” is not an apology. Let’s go through the Greatest Hits—but first, the “Hotel California” of them all:
Miscommunication
I said one thing, you understood another thing. It’s the oldest of arguments, going back to ancient Egypt, when Pharaohs interpreted the water hieroglyph as “incest”. Misunderstandings or, blech, “I misspoke” are certainly nawt apologies, but justifications for “I said nothing wrong”. It’s a posture something like, hey, if this thing that I said startled you, well, if the shoe fits, you know… A Puerto Rican saying goes El que se pica es porque ají come, or butchered in translation “He who gets hot eats chilies”. Qaron tried to bait Kimmel into this recently, the last faceplant in the QB’s goodwill coffin. This lame deflection tactic can also be observed in the first example of an actual fake apology, the
How the Turntables Sorry.
Also known as The Lazy Susan, and consists of doing a 180 on the blame. “I’m sorry… THAT YER SUCH A DUMBASS” is common example you might find on, oh… Let’s say the Internet, all of it. Social media is a melting pot of antisocial behavior. Another gem of deflection is
It Was The Circumstances.
No, it was not. It was you.
Yes, keeping an open mind is importa—nope! An apology must involve owning up to something. Next!
I Did It Because I Love You
If someone other than your mother or father* says this to you,

*Marvin Gaye excepted.
The Speculative Sorry
This is the most grating one to me. “If I did offend anyone,” fuck, you. Recognizing a mistake is what makes an apology. Throwing out there that your words or acts may have had the potential for offense is a weak ass hedge on par with in-game quarterback platoons. The individual who says “If I ____, sorry” is asking for personal trust, for focus on the intentions instead of the actual words or acts.
Well, if yer not gonna own to your own words or acts, maybe you don’t deserve trust. I’m not a leap of faith kinda guy, ok? Show something more.
If you’re on the receiving end of that fake contrition, the Neurosis Fairy might suggest full ghosting for a year, at least. Maybe not cross the street if you see that person walking towards you (because, duh, why should I cross), but full digital silence. I mean, according to the literature. Yeah, for example, Resentment as a Force for Social Progress, Harvard Press (1953), later adapted into the film “Throw Momma from the Train”, Orion (1987).
The Self-Aggrandizing Sorry
“It takes a big man to accept he’s wrong, and today, I am the biggest of men ever conceived in our shared Indoor Plumbing Era”, and so on. The lapse in judgment, if referenced, is the soapbox for tales of grit and purity of purpose. It’s performative bullshit, but prime fodder for shamelessness aficionados

The Redeem Meeeeee Sorry
This is when forgiveness is sought, at all costs. Anyone who has ever fucked up (i.e., every non-hermit human), AND goes through a pang of conscience, knows this feeling too well. Thing is, there may be a difference between your guilt and the actual offense suffered by the other person(s). This works even for shallow folks: for those fuckers, guilt is a loser’s affectation.
But for those of us with even the slimmest of a thread of a conscience, yes: fucking up big time will feel bad. It should feel bad, that is an impulse to never do that again. As a counterpoint, I once was told: “Guilt seeks punishment”. This, for me, is a real piece of wisdom in one way: self-punishment could be the most defeatist force in life. Unless you’re in the Opus Dei; fuck those self-flagellating nuts.
Amends, I’ve found, cannot be foisted upon the aggrieved just because you feel bad. It may even be a full-on self-centered exercise, like in my favorite short film:
Personal growth is the best way to show contrition to yourself and others, I think. Besides, loved ones (actual loved ones, not transactional acquaintances), should always prefer your wellbeing and progress to a protocolary “Sorry”. Have a wonderful day.
Gifs vi giphy.com The story behind the banner is here. Spoiler alert: cops involved
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