I just post a lot. That's got to be one of my all-time favorite go-tos on the quick parody front. Sometimes my brain is so tuned into pop culture it frightens me but then I will read an excerpt of someone like Chuck Klosterman or any of the many accomplished blogger/journalists that write for popular sites these days and realize I keep it at a much safer distance than some. Whenever I read them I have to wonder how many people get all of the included references. Sometimes it makes me feel a little bit uninformed (a cover word for dumb) and others I could care less.
It's a pretty cold bastard lately and the shortening of days isn't helping. That and a bum foot have made me quite lazy indeed, the irony being that lack of activity seems to make my achey old man's body feel worse. Standard writing rules tell you not to use "being that." Moving a sentence back, I suppose this isn't as by the numbers as irony goes, but it's better than a lot of the things people seem to offer up for irony, where the only true irony is their suggesiont that it is irony at all. This is where I am supposed to provide an example.
Many say that to err is human, and I do not disagree, but to complain seems to be even more human. I wonder if this is an original component of the human condition or if it is resulting and somewhat predicated upon what our lives have become. I am not the first to entertain the idea, as I find it implicit in the concept that money cannot buy happiness as well as in the consistent theme that has emerged in much modern writing, fiction and non, that so many of us are so privileged and yet unsatisfied and ADD. This goes beyond simple cash flow.
I have to step back to Klosterman quickly because I think that if you read that sentence it comes across as a dig. It's not. I haven't read much of Klosterman, but some of the snippets I have are, well, really good. If there is something I don't like about Klosterman, it's mostly myself. See, he's clever and well-written (I'd say spoken, but I've never heard him speak), and on some level, though it's less now than it might have been at one time, I'm a little jealous of that. It's this little inherent rivalry thing that a lot of human beings feel that I wish I didn't. I've seen people do it to me and the reason I can recognize it is because I know I've entertained if not acted upon it myself. The good thing is that when other people attack others out of simple jealousy it reminds me not to do that. Of course, if they point out their knowledge of such jealousy and cite it as the reason for their dislike, it can end up endearing me to them. Because, I don't know about you, but I like when people have flaws. It makes them human. Remember that bit about to err? As a rule, you kind of wait for those perfect people to trip up. Maybe you are not in that universal you. If so, good for you. I have a tendency to say "maybe" a lot. The counter, to an extent, of those perfect folks you loathe are the ones who, for some other inexplicable reason, you completely love the shit out of and perhaps aspire to attain the sort of effortless perfection they project. Speaking of, I may be doing just that here, projecting, exhibiting a small segment of human condition that applies to me and a minority, rather than the human condition. Do you ever get it all in one?
So then it is that I like the analysis I have seen tiny parts of from Klosterman, and yet sad how much popular culture shapes us, and simultaneously intrigued by the way it unites us and uh, this is also simultaneous, separates us from those who do not have those same memories. It's inter-generational. And I envy the people who have led these pure, or what I consider pure, existences away from television and dumb shit (by some arbitrary definition for "dumb shit"). Sometimes I can see why David Foster Wallace had trouble sticking around, you know? And I'm not a quarter as smart. Anyway, if you read this far, congratulations? Next time, less seriousness, more jokes or joke attempts.
I am glad I am listening to music because, based on body language, I hate the people sitting near me. Thankfully two of them just got up and have been replaced by two girls eating macarons. And you know what they say, "two macarons make it right." I think this positions me well to go home and watch last night's Gossip Girl.