The Furlough is Over
3 years.
That’s a long time to not publish anything of note. This, by the way, is no apology for not writing, as so many bloggers are wont to do. I haven’t written because I haven’t felt like writing. Oh, I’ve tinkered with ideas here and there, but it was something akin to the Israelites’ forty years in the desert, always getting distracted by false idols and vaguely dreaming of making it to the Holy Land, where I can find My Voice that would win you all over with my wit and curmudgeonly charm. I don’t mind telling you, I nearly lost faith in myself on a number of occasions and suffered a number of creative breakdowns along the way.
The trouble I have is what can I talk about that doesn’t sound lame in my own ears? George W. Bush? Rigged elections notwithstanding, if over 50 percent of the people who voted in 2004 couldn’t see what a putz Bush and company really are, then Americans deserve the legacy that Bush will leave behind. To hell with them.
If not Bush, then who or what?
Britney? The mere mention of her name validates her popularity. The sexy diva with the decidedly average looking snatch continues to exist because of the general reactions to her latest crazy escapade. She works on the same premise as a pro wrestling villain. People love to hate the wrestling heel, so much so that they’ll pay good money to go to the arena so they can hate him in person.
Ditto Paris Hilton. Anybody that can rise to pop culture super-stardom by making a home sex video that bad doesn’t deserve another sentence in this column.
Reality shows? Everyone knows about the irony of having hand-picked, rigorously coached personality, gender and colour stereotypes navigate through a carefully calculated series of obstacles to maximize the inevitable conflict to get a million dollars and a few cents worth of celebrity. Everyone knows, no one cares.
Does anyone remember the last time they watched a music video channel that actually played music videos? Neither do I. When the hell did this happen?
Speaking of music, doesn’t it strike anyone even mildly stupid that someone will pay upwards of $2 for a crappy ringtone rendition of a song for their cellphone, and yet won’t pay one shiny dime for the actual real song? Of course it’s stupid.
There are a hundred other things that I could illustrate, not one of them new or enlightening or insightful. The point is that I could rant, but where does it all go? That is what has silenced me this past while. They know, and they care not.
But as I’ve come to realize, I was never one much to bow to convention anyhow. If I sound like yet another whiny, misunderstood cyberhack then so be it.
If rant be the music of the righteously angry, play on…