The lower crust

It annoys me when people think they are special.  And I'm not writing just about the conspicuously consuming spoiled narcissistic snobs whose coffee must be from a particular freshly ground bean or who must wear particular branded clothing or who are so "outer directed" that they are but hollow shells of humanity.  ("Oh, who cares if  those animals are slaughtered; I must have natural fur to properly warm my body."  Don't think you'll need to keep warm where you're going in the afterlife.)  No, I'm talking about that everyday lout who doesn't eat pizza crusts, takes the middle piece in the cake pan even though the edge piece is next, and in general doesn't adhere to rules or convention because it is not convenient to do so ("Why should I put this back on the shelf where I found it?  I'll just dump this item anywhere, and somebody else will but it away.  They have people for that."  They have people for that because there are selfish immoral people like you.)  Morality for the "special" goes beyond a specialized form of individual utilitarianism to be reduced to "helps me, good; doesn't help me, bad"  After all, they're "special."  Here's the thing:  everybody's special so nobody's special.  So eat the bleeping bread crusts, drink the flipping tap water, stop at the stinking stop sign, and stop being so insufferably prissy and self-indulgent.

image from mypersiankitchen.com