bleah to titles.

Here is one thing that I don’t like: every entry I write for loafe requires a title. It annoys me, that I have to label everything I say. I hate trying to come up with some pithy, relevant or logical title for each entry. It’s stupid. But I guess for the sake of organization and archiving, titles are necessary. It’s just annoying, that’s all I’m saying.

Anyway.

The weekend newspapers usually include two “magazines” each week that I absolutely cannot stand. One is USA Weekend and the other Parade. I just hate them both, I hate them so much. Everything they write about tries to be so helpful and positive and encouraging. It makes me sick. They’ve gone and gathered the biggest piles of shit they could find, slapped some pretty and frilly little dresses on them, and handed them over to the American people. “Here, oh great America, here we give you valuable and insightful information to make your life better! Meaningful, important information and moving, heartwarming stories that will remind you how great life truly is and how lucky we are...”

Here are the two most recent headlines. From Parade, featuring a cover story on Samuel L. Jackson, “Growing up in the segregated South, Samuel L. Jackson knew the painful cycle of poverty, addiction and despair. But, he says, ‘I Had a Dream of My Own’” Puke. And from USA Weekend: “Baby Steps, 15 of the absolute latest scientific findings on caring for your infant. They’ll help make today’s little ones happier, and healthier, than ever.” Vomit.

Nothing I’ve ever read in those publications has made my life better, easier, smarter, happier or less stressful. In USA Weekend, 18 of the 22 pages had either full or half page ads. Parade’s 23 pages had 16 pages of ads. Just thinking about it now makes me crazy. And how much uplifting and emotional bullshit can we take? Honestly, who are these people reading this fluff? Here’s what I want to know: who’s sitting on his couch at home, reading about Samuel Jackson’s life, saying to himself, "Oh yes, Sam! You’ve inspired me to change my life! Thank you Parade! Thank you Sam! You had a dream of your own, and I do, too!" Guess what folks? Mr. Jackson is just pushing his new movie, and he doesn’t give a whit about you or your dreams. I liked him in Pulp Fiction and all, but I care about his personal life just about as much as he cares about mine.

You know what else annoys me? McSweeney’s. Don’t get me wrong—I mostly like the content and I always have a good time there, but the hipness of it makes me all snarly and pissed. Every chump who wants the world to know how cool he is proclaims his love of mcsweeney’s. Some ultra-trendy hipster who hates Bush, walking around with a copy of The Believer under his arm, drinking his lame coffee and smoking his lame cigarettes, saying how he loved Modest Mouse from the beginning, before anyone else even knew who they were and rolling his eyes at all the Johnny-come-latelys.

Here is a recent topic from McSweeney’s: E-Mail Shorthand that Civil War Soldiers Would Likely Have Used in Letters Home Had the Technology Been Available to Them. Okay, we get it. You’re cute and witty and fun and smart and spry and you love love LOVE Death Cab For Cutie and The O.C and jesus, aren’t you just so clever. so okay, WE GET IT. Now give me a fucking break, alright? Cause you’re killing me.

I guess this is a bit of a ranting entry today, eh? I’m full of the cranky and grumpy. To balance things out, I’ll admit I like reading the Ask Marilyn column in Parade.

Oh, also, with things like McSweeney’s, it’s just so hard to keep up with it. I’m exhausted enough trying to stay at my current level of coolness, which is really quite low, and I don’t have it in me to experience or learn or discover any more. It’s kind of like my deal with links and blogs and web journals—too many is too much. You know what I mean? Maybe it’s just me. But trying to stay current and smart takes a lot of work and I can’t be bothered with it.

Laziness—it gets me every time.

I think it has less to do with laziness and more to do with motherhood....you become a mother and realize that all the things you thought were so relevant and important before mean NOTHING. I don't know if you ever get over it and start thinking things other than your baby and your family are relevant, I've been doing it six years and haven't reached that point yet.

Botox.. All of those frilly, frumped up house wives of all of those rich, power grabbing republican men...they have had so many botox injections to keep up their paralyzed phony facades its gone directly to their brains.
A cosmetically induced frontal lobotomy..
Thats who reads those articles by-golly.

Sad but true, Tragically true.
http://manbottle.com/pictures/think.jpg

Someone just sent me that mcsweeneys link. I just can't get into it...then I think, maybe it is over my head. Then I read about Civil War short hand and think,I get that! But it's not funny. I must be a bah humbug scrooge. Then I give some change to a homeless person and I think..hell no.