Introduction: New Rules for a New World
One day, I was minding everyone’s business, scrolling through my Facebook news feed when I saw a picture of someone’s dead grandma being prepared for burial. I gasped and then immediately got mad. Who does that? Why would you upload a snapshot of your deceased relative? What are you trying to prove? Because I’m pretty sure we didn’t need to see receipts showing that she really died. We believe you. You didn’t need any more people. Furthermore, why would you post a picture of her body before it’s casket-sharp? Her wig wasn’t even on yet. People are so disrespectful. I promise you this: if I die and someone posts a picture of my body before my lipstick is on and I’m looking amazing (for the state I’m in), I will haunt them for the rest of their lives. Ghost Luvvie would be turning on random faucets in their houses in the middle of the night. Anytime they ate popcorn, I’d hide all the floss so they’d have to live with that stuff stuck between their teeth. I am super petty.
Anyway, at times like this, when someone obviously lacks sense, you ask yourself, “Did some of us not get a limited-edition handbook with instructions on how not to suck? Was there a boot camp on decency that some people simply missed the sign-up for?” Why are people terrible? In a world where we are more connected to each other than ever, with endless access to information at our fingertips, too many of us seem to have missed the message on how to behave. Babies and grandmothers alike have Instagram pages—I’ve seen a five-year-old’s Instagram, where he posted about naptime and coloring inside the lines. The Dalai Lama, the pope, and the president of the United States use Twitter to pass on messages to the masses. We are living in a new world, and there are now new rules. Information travels faster than ever, instantly exposing who is the emperor without clothes.
Clearly, we need a playbook, a guide to help people get a bit of common sense and some behavior as they navigate today’s hyperobsessions with pop culture, social-media sharing, and outright navel-gazing.
If Oprah and Deepak came up today, in a world where more people die in botched selfie attempts than in shark attacks, this might be the book they’d recommend. This book is what Millennial Iyanla Vanzant would give you before you get to the point where you have to go sit on her couch for fixing.
“If there’s a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.” Prolific writer Toni Morrison once said that. And so I have.
Here is where I dole out shade, side-eye, and basic-but-necessary advice for the needy—the logic-deficient who consistently come up short in this new world order of 140-character opinions, Facebook beefs, Instagram groupies, and pop-cultural idolization, i.e., the wasteland, where common sense has tragically become the rarest flower in the thought garden. I’m Judging You changes the game and snatches wigs one page at a time. It is a guide to getting some act-right online and in real life. All the shade that resides in my spirit, all the side-eye I’ve dispensed across my vast network, has led me here.
Life doesn’t usually come with a manual, and we’re all just going through it as best as we know how. We’re hoping that when we follow the drinking gourd to our Lord and show up at Saint Peter’s gate he doesn’t turn us away for being terrible people who don’t deserve nice things, like heaven’s promises. I imagine heaven to be a place where I can afford any shoes I want, I can drink all the pink lemonade I can stand, and the pasta and shrimp are eternally endless. Also, roaches and rodents do not exist there because they are clearly Satan’s minions and they belong in the burning basement of hell forever and ever. Amen.
But I digress.
Humans are flawed beings. Some flaws are mere wrinkles, some are cracks, and some are the Grand Canyon. This book will address everything from the quirks that earn my shallower-than-a-Snapple-cap gripes to the really problematic things people do that leave the world worse than we found it and inspire my wrath—from side-eyeing our beauty, hygiene, relationship, friendship, and everyday decisions to calling out oppression and inequality, phobia-driven social systems, and people’s views on race, religion, and being different; to frowning at the endlessly wrong ways we’re using digital platforms in our business and personal relationships; and finally, to wig-snatching the glorification of megalomania and the lowest-common-denominator pandering of social media and reality TV.
But who am I kidding? The truth is this book is an amazing excuse for me to judge folks. It’s a permanent scowl in book form—a gift that’ll sizzle on the shelves of the Library of Congress for generations to come.
I would like to take this time to acknowledge, praise, and lift up those judges who’ve come before me. The ones whose side-eye could break your spirit and whose words could cut you down to your socks. Shout-out to professional judges (Judy and Mathis) and to unofficial ones—like shady babies everywhere who give no dambs1 about your feelings—and to Sophia Petrillo (my favorite Golden Girl). Also, shout-out to your grandmother and other old people in your life who say what they feel and dare you to check them. They all exist to ensure that we behave better, and for them I give thanks. Finally, a shout-out to my Nigerian mom, who taught me such insults as “classless wonder” and “useless nonentity.” I am (shady) because they are.
I like to think of myself as ahead of my time because I’m already cranky and ornery, and I’m working toward getting a lawn just so I can chase people off it. I’m futuristic that way. Some people will say, “Only God can judge me.” I’m here to say, “Well, until He gives His final judgment, here’s some of mine.”
You’re welcome!
Copyright © 2016 by Luvvie Ajayi