The last couple of weeks seem oddly reminiscent of the period in my life that, I thought, had ended in February of last year. Too many things to divide my limited time to, too little sleep, and seemingly little progress in any one area.
Really, for all the possibilities that being immortal might really suck, I would welcome the chance to find out firsthand. I fear I won't accomplish everything I have set out to in my alloted time (I say alloted, assuming that I don't die somehow, say, 5 minutes after I write this...either way my fear is valid).
I know, I know...ok...what else has been going on?
Some progress, albeit it slight, in getting some of my solo material recorded. I haven't been able to get my hands on a program that I am completely satisfied with, to record and edit multiple tracks of music, but there are two that could work. In the meantime, I have a handful of songs to finish crafting, because I have decided I want them on the demo disc. At this rate, I may not finish the disc this year, but then part of that is the perfectionist in me.
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I had the unpleasant chance to watch daytime TV the other day. It was one of those talk shows...Oprah, Montel...whatever. I can't even remember which one now, I was so thrilled with it.
On this particular show, which appeared to be an old re-run, they were giving people makeovers. Now, I'm all for a makeover if a person WANTS it. If you decide you want a new look, etc, not to please someone else but to please yourself, go for it.
This, however, was not the case. On this show, parents/teachers/friends contacted the producers/host/satan and told them they wanted to give a kid a makeover. I only watched one before turning it off. It was a girl...15 I believe...in the most gorgeous "goth" attire. So naturally, I thought she looked fine. Her parents, however, didn't agree, and had her brought on this show to get made over by professional fashion/make-up consultants. You know, the people who help dictate how we should all look, to be in style...to fit in...however you want to spit it on the concrete to get the vile sense of non-acceptance out of your mouth.
How awful, for this person, especially at the already-tumultuous age of 15, to be dragged out on national television by someone that is supposed to love them, and essentially told, "We don't like you how you are...we've asked these people to change you into something better."
So she comes out after the crime, in her new ambercrombie/gap/prada whatever. Everybody celebrates how fantastic it is, this forced transformation, that this individual is given the chance to shun her pesky desire to be what she wants, and at last be brought into the fold. The host, the parents, the audience applaud.
How fucking dare they.
Oh, and I mustn't forget to mention...the "awww" sounds of disappointment the crowd made, when she was asked by the host if she'd return to dressing in her previous, "morbid" attire and she wholeheartedly said she would.
That is, unless her parents have something to do with it.
It is the spectical that we make of this, this kind of blatant attempt to crush one's sense of self, one's choice to do whatever the fuck one pleases so long as it hurts no one else, that thickens and feeds my general disgust for people. I see things like this and can not help but have them stick in my mind for up to weeks at a time. It is this kind of attitude that makes me wish to be antisocial in most settings; to prefer to have people come to me rather than approach them.
I still can not get over the gall of the people in the audience. I keep thinking about that girl...if I were her. The feeling of being told, "change if you want us to accept you," by your own parents, and to have a couple hundred strangers (and one wonders how many at home) laud it!?
I go one worse. A vague memory comes to me now of such a makeover show on MTV, some years back. A girl subjected herself to be madeover, so that the people who'd rejected her at school would like her. Oh and how wonderful that we have MTV to encourage her to do so.
She changed her appearance. The people accepted her. There was much rejoicing.
Fuck, I hate MTV.
Not really sure why I typed that now, but there you have it.
CN
Really, for all the possibilities that being immortal might really suck, I would welcome the chance to find out firsthand. I fear I won't accomplish everything I have set out to in my alloted time (I say alloted, assuming that I don't die somehow, say, 5 minutes after I write this...either way my fear is valid).
I know, I know...ok...what else has been going on?
Some progress, albeit it slight, in getting some of my solo material recorded. I haven't been able to get my hands on a program that I am completely satisfied with, to record and edit multiple tracks of music, but there are two that could work. In the meantime, I have a handful of songs to finish crafting, because I have decided I want them on the demo disc. At this rate, I may not finish the disc this year, but then part of that is the perfectionist in me.
---------------------------------
I had the unpleasant chance to watch daytime TV the other day. It was one of those talk shows...Oprah, Montel...whatever. I can't even remember which one now, I was so thrilled with it.
On this particular show, which appeared to be an old re-run, they were giving people makeovers. Now, I'm all for a makeover if a person WANTS it. If you decide you want a new look, etc, not to please someone else but to please yourself, go for it.
This, however, was not the case. On this show, parents/teachers/friends contacted the producers/host/satan and told them they wanted to give a kid a makeover. I only watched one before turning it off. It was a girl...15 I believe...in the most gorgeous "goth" attire. So naturally, I thought she looked fine. Her parents, however, didn't agree, and had her brought on this show to get made over by professional fashion/make-up consultants. You know, the people who help dictate how we should all look, to be in style...to fit in...however you want to spit it on the concrete to get the vile sense of non-acceptance out of your mouth.
How awful, for this person, especially at the already-tumultuous age of 15, to be dragged out on national television by someone that is supposed to love them, and essentially told, "We don't like you how you are...we've asked these people to change you into something better."
So she comes out after the crime, in her new ambercrombie/gap/prada whatever. Everybody celebrates how fantastic it is, this forced transformation, that this individual is given the chance to shun her pesky desire to be what she wants, and at last be brought into the fold. The host, the parents, the audience applaud.
How fucking dare they.
Oh, and I mustn't forget to mention...the "awww" sounds of disappointment the crowd made, when she was asked by the host if she'd return to dressing in her previous, "morbid" attire and she wholeheartedly said she would.
That is, unless her parents have something to do with it.
It is the spectical that we make of this, this kind of blatant attempt to crush one's sense of self, one's choice to do whatever the fuck one pleases so long as it hurts no one else, that thickens and feeds my general disgust for people. I see things like this and can not help but have them stick in my mind for up to weeks at a time. It is this kind of attitude that makes me wish to be antisocial in most settings; to prefer to have people come to me rather than approach them.
I still can not get over the gall of the people in the audience. I keep thinking about that girl...if I were her. The feeling of being told, "change if you want us to accept you," by your own parents, and to have a couple hundred strangers (and one wonders how many at home) laud it!?
I go one worse. A vague memory comes to me now of such a makeover show on MTV, some years back. A girl subjected herself to be madeover, so that the people who'd rejected her at school would like her. Oh and how wonderful that we have MTV to encourage her to do so.
She changed her appearance. The people accepted her. There was much rejoicing.
Fuck, I hate MTV.
Not really sure why I typed that now, but there you have it.
CN
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
i wish i had a car...and a license. i'd go on back roads drives all the time. and i'd go on a road trip. but then i'd need some sort of motorhome thingie so my cats could come too. i'd miss 'em too much.
turns out SGB wasn't sold out! and i went. woo! details can be found in my journal, provided i get around to updating it before you read this.
daytime tv totally sucks. bleh. and i fucking hate those forced makeover shows. i get really bothered by the ones where they bring on men that have long hair and beards so they can shave the beards and cut off all their hair, because their wife or girlfriend doesn't like the way they look.
and now i'm going to eat some cake.
oh yeah, and thanks for the testimonial!
Nice taste in bands.