Weather Proof

“Life is a lot better when:

-you have saran wrap walls

-you never have to leave the slumber party because you live with your best friend”

-you are demonized by several unrelated parties in tandem, and cannot rouse yourself to care because craning your neck to look that far beneath you is not worth it, and sort of boring, and it’s a lot more fun anyways to hold yourself aloft through sheer willpower and the confidence that you are competent.

-you can’t stop giggling in a lecture on feminism because every time the professor says battered women, you and your best friend envision a 50s house-wife drenched in pancake batter flung onto her by the raging whisk of her husband.

-you make pancakes after aforementioned lecture just because it reminds you of how funny you and your best friend are, and then you call your other best friend to share the hilarity, and she finds it funny, but she always sounds like she’s being laundered when she’s on the phone so anything becomes funny.

Life is a lot better when you quit soaking yourself in the notion that to be vulnerable is to be unique and weak at once, and to be strong is beyond you and for the people with saran wrapped walls.

Sometimes I wonder how some people don’t get sick of themselves. How can some people be so insufferable, and stagnate that way, and remain to rot without any sort of initiative to change? I guess it’s a defense mechanism, a way to sustain some false reverie about a mind that has not developed the faculties of true will power.

To all: It brings me no particular pleasure, or displeasure for that matter, to inform you all that your attempts at offending me would work if I had any remote sense of investment in your opinions. I don’t. To me you’re all just angry people with keyboards, and to you I’m just some asshole with a keyboard; you shouldn’t give some asshole with a keyboard so much power over your emotions.

And I have no particular vendetta against this Karissa girl. I still don’t actually. I sort of like her now that I’ve gotten to know her through the swords of her friends, no matter how crude these attacks were. I contend that it would behoove her to represent herself a little more accurately, but that is not my problem (we’re not friends, after all).

Do you think I’m bad? Do you think I’m the worst person ever? I don’t blame you. But when people see that photo and laugh it will no longer be solely my fault. It will be everyone’s burden because you all couldn’t stop yourselves from reblogging that awful photo.

Itwouldbeawkwardnotto: There’s nothing wrong with community college, english majors, or pursuing dreams, especially if you’re 16 years old.

mikelynch: you’re hysterical.

Swartz: I never claimed to be a saint. I can’t help your inflated expectations of me, and quite frankly I don’t care to. Your opinion of me could not mean less to me.

Kayla Russell: I wish I could melt down your words and spoon feed them to the cussing masses, because that was a truly thoughtful and heartfelt response. And it was concise to boot! I think anyone would be lucky to have the bond shared between you and Karissa. I don’t think my opinion particularly matters to you, which is fine. I just thought I’d let you know that you’re the one person with any sort of articulate argument among her friends. I enjoyed your post immensely and was beaming by the end.

I have very little intention of continuing this battle. I no longer wish to destroy any futures and I will change the caption accordingly. I’m just too bored with this to do much else.

Your reactions are the sole reasons sustaining my complete indifference to this situation. If someone had approached me with a remotely plausible reaction then I would have surely considered retracting the post, but so far all I’ve read were enraged barbarians, gushing hypocrisy and accosting me with their myopia.

So basically I’m being spiteful. Hopefully you’ll understand the following point:

The original picture was found on her facebook. Facebook is home to approximately 500 Million active users (source 1). It is one of the most densely trafficked social networks in contemporary culture.

Tumblr is the home of about 1 million active users (source 2). A massive TWENTY-EIGHT PEOPLE, four of which are you people, follow my negligible and insignificant blog.

Now, let’s reason. You are all offended that I would be mean enough to post a picture—which is normally exposed to potentially 500 million people on an unguarded facebook profile—to my blog which has an unsteady flow of about 24 people of maybe 1 million. That’s about .002% (1 mill into 500 mill).

You’re getting upset because I’ve simply verbalized the message that this girl’s profile picture has promulgated. Do I think Karissa is a nice girl? Do I think she has moral rectitude and a heart of gold? Do I even have a chance to consider any of this when she’s decided to express the summation of her appearance as a picture of her, clothed in suds, with two brands of beer dousing any sense of dignity she might contain?

Congratulations on your double standard everyone. It’s interesting that it’s taken the derisive delineation of a stranger to highlight the outrage that should have sprung up in defense of Karissa long ago. Your threats, cloaked under the negating shroud of anonymity, are nothing short of amusing.

Karissa, I actually think you’re probably a great person and the outrage of your friends is a testament to the effect you have on people. You should be very flattered. And Michael, if you’re going to talk to me I fully expect you to summon some semblance of intelligence.

I posted what I posted because I thought it was amusing, and because the harm it could have caused was already metastasized on a much broader scale. To be mean implies a level of motivation that was absent in my doings, but to be objective is to subjugate your provincialism  at the cost of clarity. That’s a hint.


source 1: http://www.facebook.com/press/info.php?statistics

source 2: http://tomuse.com/tumblr-secret-success/

I think I’m supposed to be thrilled? Or maybe it’s acceptable for me to be this disenchanted? Either way, that’s the perfect word: disenchanted.

I suppose my qualms reside in confusion: why would I ever get a callback for a part that his a scarce vocals, a smudge of dance, and with the main function of being suave and masculine? It’s mutually derisive, as in it makes a mockery of the character role and of the person playing it (if that were to be me).

Everyone seems to be on this rant about how Ke$ha is the epitome of bad music, and how she is the bane of the intellectual.

Okay, well listen: I’m a intelligent person (I know this to be a fact). I’m also a musician. And I’m also super impressed with this new album.

Musically, it’s a lot more intricate than many artists who are highly recommended over her.  And as far as content goes: so what if she writes about partying. It’s SO MUCH BETTER than all those fucking rappers that rap about how good they are at rapping. Seriously a self defeating technique, y’know.

Anyhow, the next time someone disdainfully references Ke$ha, I plan to inquire as to if they’ve actually listened to the album, or are basing their paradigm of her around Tik Tok. Her music is clever and catchy. It doesn’t have to be biblical and profound. It’s the revine between the perception people expect to have of her, and of what she’s actually presenting that creates such dissonance.