If brief radio flickers and supermarket PA systems have taught me anything about modern music, it’s that kids like to party. The shards of Kesha and One Direction that aggressively force their way into my unwilling ear drums from time to time have certainly shown me that much. However, they never really say ‘drinking’ or ‘dancing’ or ‘hanging out with strangers in awkwardly forced social interactions’, they simply say ‘partying’. Now, I’m not entirely sure when the noun ‘party’, as in an assembly of people meeting with a common goal, be it political, social or celebratory, transformed into this awkwardly misapplied verb that I, for one, feel totally ill-equipped to define. All I know about ‘partying’ is that the significance placed upon it makes it fraudulently seem like some sort of animalistic ritual of transcendental meditation that culminates in an out-of-body experience, or an ascension to a new state of being (which I suppose is true, if you consider ‘hungover’ to be a state of being).
- Nicolas Cage, probably.
I don’t want to write much on all this school shooting stuff, because it’s grown into a topic with a million facets; from people debating the merit of mental health funding over gun control laws, to people insulting the media for sensationalising criminals. My opinions aren’t important enough to mill around with all of that, but there is something that has occurred to me, as incorrect or presumptive as it may be.
I recently made a joke on Twitter regarding the past incident of Chris Brown’s abuse of Rihanna, but after I posted it, I immediately thought about how insane it is that this topic, even after several years, has been allowed to slide away into the realm of jokes (albeit fantastic ones in my case).
While at work today, I saw a group of men watching the BBC news, which at the time was featuring the story of Julian Assange and his stay at the Ecuadorian embassy. The ‘alpha‘ of the group started running his inebriated mouth of about how terrible it was that Assange was still able to stay at the embassy, and how he ought to have been assassinated. I’ll take a wild stab in the dark and say that this man probably had no idea of the circumstances that led to Assange’s current diplomatic turmoil, but he was loudly voicing his opinion either way. Now Assange’s innocence or guilt in regards to the sexual assault charges in Sweden are of no concern to me, and as such, I have no opinion of the matter; however, hearing the utter ignorance in this man’s voice was really winding me up, and after a good ten minutes of listening to himself speak, he blurted out a sentence that I may never forget.
… And on a totally, absolutely, obviously unrelated note; he’s currently plugging and promoting his new book, which happens to be about an alien landing, buried in a government conspiracy.
I find it astronomical the audacity, and the soulless desperation, of some people who try to take advantage of other, naive and gullible, people. Then again, I also find it astronomical how naive and gullible some of these other people can actually be.
If you get an email, saying “Hi, it’s the bank. You’ve just won a random lottery thing, so give us your details and PIN and stuff, and we’ll give you a million pounds!”; delete it. If you get a chain message saying “Send this to ten people or a cannibal will rape you dog while ghosts cut off your penis!”; delete it.
And of course, if some prick says “Yeah! There definitely was an alien landing in a desert in New Mexico 60 years ago, but no one ever revealed it, until now, when I’m saying it was an alien, and also have coincidentally written a book about this exact sequence of TRUE events, so BUY MY BOOK. It’s only twenty dollars!”; put a hole in his head.