I read my Tweets. It seems the Oscars are tonight. Who knew? Thanks Anti-Dem blog, I guess. A lesbian who had a sitcom a couple decades ago took a picture; 2 million RTs. A lot of people it seems. Society is dying.
I read a newspaper article a friend sent me. It’s from the CBC. It seems tribalism is evil; ethnic nationalism moreso. I almost forgot. Thankfully, this one was at least written by an adult with a functioning brain and a basic grasp on reality. I read another article, this one was not. The mind revolts; I remember why I don’t read newspapers anymore.
I’m visiting family. The TV is on while we talk. Commercials come on. I haven’t seen one in months; it feels like a mental assault. The stupidity almost hurts. Do I really feel the brain cells dying or is that psychosomatic? Has anyone, ever, been even half that excited over an egg sandwich before in their life? Even more, I am insulted someone, someone with a degree and a six-figure job, thought I would actually believe somebody could get that excited. The actor’s every expression screams backpfeifengesicht, yet I would be the one to go to jail. There is no justice. Wait, if they’re making this commercial somebody must actually be convinced to buy an egg sandwich because of it; the mind reels away from the horror. Finally the pause in conversation ends; I can ignore the terror.
I am riding the bus. An ad displays an idiot who is amazed, mouth agape, the government will subsidize his renovations. Does a thousand dollar subsidy from a nameless bureaucrat really elicit such an emotional outpouring? I wouldn’t even be that amazed if my office pool won the lottery. His face looks retarded. The urge to punch something, anything, stirs, so I look elsewhere.
Another ad. It’s a mentally handicapped man, looking slightly less retarded than the renovations guy. “I’m an athlete.” Despite being better at his sport than 90% of people will ever be at anything, “I’m an athlete.” is how you advertise him? I’m an emotionally-detached asshole, yet I’ve never been that condescending to anybody in my life. Why do the Special Olympics hate disabled people?
Another ad, but of a soldier advertising the military, something noble, something worthy. Looking past the uniforms, its a woman; still sacrifice is sacrifice. ‘I love that I’m a role model.’ Shudder. I look to the quote under the other women soldier beside her, ‘People take me seriously.’ Defeat overwhelms me. Where are the calls to flag, country, patriotism, duty, honour, sacrifice, freedom, hell, even democracy, something, anything, transcendent? The army is purposefully recruiting narcissists. My biggest regret for almost over a half decade was not joining the army after high school; that regret is almost gone. Why can’t I fall asleep?
I am at work. I overhear my coworkers discussing a show I’ve never seen. I stay in my cubicle. They move to discussing football; I don’t recognize the names. I stay seated.
I scan Slate semi-regularly just to keep some connection to the mainstream news and opinions. I rage at the stupidity and asininity, but at least it’s not Salon or the NYT or HuffPo.
The headlines are increasingly infected with the Gawker voice. You know the voice; the one that sounds like Cracked headlines had a retarded step-child.
“I opted my kids out of standardized tests. I thought it was no big deal. Boy, Was I Wrong.” Here’s how someone who hadn’t drank paint as a child would write this: “Opting my kids out of standardized tests was a greater hassle than I thought.” See: 14 words in 1 flowing sentence as compared to 19 in 3 choppy sentences; much more readable and it sounds like something not written by a child who skipped his standardized tests. But I guess you must appeal to the other paint-drinkers. Can people no longer read ‘complex’ thoughts?
Also, up yours Slate. I don’t need your permission to lick a cookie-dough spoon. What kind of pathetic incompetent does? Come to think of it, what kind of worthless person even thinks about this more than, “Hey, my cookies are baking, let’s eat the leftover batter”?
Fictional TV character doesn’t understand economics! This from the same site that publishes Matthew Yglesias. The irony almost burns. Speaking of, does Matt ever write something not retarded?
I read something in XX. It’s dripping with venom; hate seethes from every word. I check the byline, but I already guess the author. Is there any person in the world more hateful than Amanda Marcotte?
Get to Dear Prudence. Ahhh… Normal human pettiness is an amusing relief. Hmmm… It seems teaching children anal sex against the parents’ wishes is only ok if the public school does it. Good to know.
I write for my blog. Trying to find article on Gawker voice I vaguely remember reading a long time ago. Find this instead. There is actually someone who believes Gawker writes good headlines. America deserves destruction. Reason #5: “They’re written like real people talk.” Really? Reading a Gawker headline makes my bloodlust rise. If the people I spent my time with talked like that I’d be in prison. Remind me to never talk to anyone either named or friends with Andrew Hanelly; 20-to-life does not interest me.
Finish Mass Effect 3. It and the first two have been my major interactions with popular culture over the last three months. 40 hours a game, a game a month, an average of an hour a day (but more realistically one or two evenings a week). I also watched LilyHammer and House of Cards.
The more time passes the more disconnected I feel from society and culture. My knowledge of societal and cultural events around me all comes from a small internet subculture. No radio, no TV but Netflix, no newspapers, no sports but the occasional party for the ‘big game’ or ticket to the ‘local team’.
What little of culture seeps through my filters repulses me.
I’m not sure how healthy this is. I’m not sure if the alternative is any healthier.
Am I insane? Or is everything else?