August 22nd, 2006

This Much, I Know.

Lately I've been damaged-goods-victim and ineffective observer, along with all of the important people in my life. Literally everyone I know is reeling from someone else's choices in one respect or another.

I find it interesting that I'm identifying right now in my mind with the people of post 9/11 NYC and post Katrina Gulf Coast/New Orleans in strange and profound ways. Imagine yourself surrounded by wasteland, none it your design or your choice, but what the fuck are you going to do about it - this is your home, this is where you live and where you are. Lack of resources won't change the fact that you're stuck where you are sometimes, in a rut, in a geographic sense, in an emotional sense, in any imaginable sense. This is where you know you belong in spite of knowing on the surface there are a million other places you might rather be at this one, overwhelming moment in time. The place you sometimes are can make you feel helpless and hopeless simply by nature of the place itself and its gravity rubbings like scars on everything, but when those two things meet and you're both helpless and hopeless at once, the singularity of this invariably leads you to shell shock.

Screaming or not screaming about it (the frustration) makes no difference, better you not waste the energy and exhaust yourself before the next thing comes along to exhaust you - and it is coming, that next thing. You never get a break from it or so it would seem underneath the weight of it all.

We all might as well be bloodied pieces travelling down the throat of a lion.

And this pessimism shit? Definitely not for me, I'm out of my element. I suppose the more accurate nom for me at the moment would probably be 'pissimism'.

Attention ANYONE who needs to set an example for a child or teenager...

I've really had it, I swear. I'm so done with this cunt and the cult of people that think she's even remotely interesting that I can't take it anymore.

DIE, Paris Hilton. Jihad on you!

Now here's what I want everyone who knows or has any kind of relationship with a child or a teenager to do. It requires that you step up and be responsible, and not be lazy with being proactive. Read this story: Paris Hilton praises her debut album. Read it as many times as it takes for you to be bathed in disgust, then sit down and show the young person in your life. Dissect everything about her, and declare in no unclear terms that this is not what one should strive to be. Explain that vanity is a fleeting thing and that substance is where it's at. Explain that viewing people like this as role models is an act of stupidity, period. Explain that her parents are just as bad if not worse for not only enabling these behaviors, but actively encouraging them. Explain that looking like/acting like/for all intents and purposes being a giant whore is effectively saying to the entire world at large that you're one of the most stupid, insignificant creatures on the planet. It's not sexy, it's not 'cool', it most definitely is not 'hot', it's not even interesting. Glorifcation and/or romanticism of people like this is completely disgusting and shows a complete lack of character.

The entirety of this and the culture of Paris Hilton cannot be destroyed, but the cult of Paris Hiltonites who think she's anything besides completely horrific must be stopped.
Of her album, she says, "I, like, cry, when I listen to it, it's so good."


"I'm always playing a character," she tells the magazine. "I don't talk like this really — like a baby. I don't act like myself in public, because I don't really want to show everyone the real me. Because I have no privacy whatsoever, the only thing I have is who I really am."
Oh my doG, please die.
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