this is just a short post announcing that i have a new laptop. so for the 4 or 5 of you who give a damn, brandon is now technologically up-to-date once again.
random bitching paragraph one :
so i was listening to the radio the other day, and christina aguilera's 'candy man' came on. the unusual and disgruntling thing was, while they used to play the song completely unedited, the wonderful censorhip board has now seen fit to filter two phrases, namely, 'cherry pop' (as in, 'makes my cherry pop') and 'panties drop'. i shall now demonstrate how this move is completely obsolete. in fact, i already have, if you have been paying close attention. didnt think so. anyway, besides the fact that everyone kind of knows what 'cherry pop' means (half of whom probably pop cherries on a regular basis), theres the fact that the move to censor the stupid thing came only like, weeks after the song received radio airplay. better late than never? i think not, because by now, most people would have already heard the uncensored version of the song, ergo, upon hearing the new version, they are wont to remark, 'hey, what happened to that cherry-popping/panty dropping line?' so, what's the point? to 'protect our impressionable young children from graphic language and explicit lyrics'? AS IF THEY CARED! WHY ARE YOU MAKING SUCH A BIG DEAL!
oh. i get it. because its about sex! SEX IS TABOO! OH NO I'VE SAID IT SEX SEX SEX SEX SEX SEX SEX! i mean, even the descriptors themselves are censored. 'explicit lyrics?' i would say that that kind of phrase is even more deleterious than 'cherry pop' because it is a byzantine euphemism that linguistically corrupts and muddles the mind. 'makes my cherry pop', on the other hand, is a mischievous metaphor that is completely in line with the 'candy' theme of the song. going into a meta-level, when we take into consideration the fact that christina wrote the song with her husband in mind (hopefully), the song is very much a 21st century ode to romance and the allure of the lover. IS THAT SO BAD?! can you imagine what would happen if people like shakespeare were censored back in the 17th century? i mean, a vast number of poems deal specifically, tacitly, or even peripherally with sex and sexuality! how about novels? clockwork orange? lolita? how about A HUGE PORTION OF LITERATURE contains references to or descriptions of sex! why is music being singled out?
okay, in defense, i suppose that censorship laws have been relaxed somewhat, because i hear the words 'ass' and 'breast' in their entirety now on the radio (let's not go into the merits of censoring one syllable, or replacing it with some other funny sound). but do you seriously think that a few 'obscene' words (how is it that they usually involve body parts? is authority inherently disillusioned with humanity? maybe i should become a politician then) will turn us all into lewd, crude, individuals who indulge in mass orgies and uh, cherry-popping parties? okay i have to go out now so i shall cut this short (oh no isnt that phrase like, suggestive as well? quick CENSOR ME). bottom line, i just think that being governed by these kind of censorship laws is very sad.
so, after listening to a song about popping cherries and dropping panties, shall we go watch a movie which is rated based on the number of breasts and/or nipples shown onscreen? i say, @#$%. (did anyone understand what i was trying to say after i censored myself? no? good.)
taika told you a secret at
11:05 PM
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to you,:
i hope you realize that you are destined to a squalid life of snivelling subservience, an existence not even worthy of being recorded in dust in the timeline of humanity. you aspire to greatness, to genius even; but sadly you can achieve nothing more than a miserable mediocrity that befits those of your ilk. attempts to deny your fate will only culminate in fleeting amelioration, but even then that will be more than you deserve. you are carrion, one of a multitude of insects that are easily extinguished when alone, and when together rarely raise their collective contribution to reality above that of an emasculated whimper that only barely qualifies as noise.
you seek to delude yourself by enshrining yourself within a chrysalis of denial and false aspirations, as if excoriation alone were sufficient to transmute your fate. your withered, battered body and soul seek the company of equally or even more intensely condemned pawns so that you may bask in the tainted light of malicious envy and lascivious praise. the only notable consequence of this immersion in ignorance is the further contamination of the grotesquely pulsating bloodclot that is your life, so that the trudging traverse to your ignoble end is accelerated and indisputably inevitable.
and yet, even though you are completely cognizant of your prosaic nature, you asininely cling to your selfmade rationalizations, content to wallow in your own filth, playing out an ersatz reality masquerading as your redemption. there can be no salvation for someone like you, because you have forsaken every single opportunity thrust upon you. you are condemned to reek eternally, doused in the banalities of your thoughts and actions.
no doubt there will come a day when you will be awakened and appreciate for the first time the magnitude of your piteous affectations, but by then you will be so mired in your own stench that nothing can or will want to lend you assistance. and you can be sure that i will be inundating you with curses and condemnations until then, and beyond. i do not even have to try to surpass you, because you have retarded your already stunted development by choosing the path of maggots, and hence saved me the trouble. i have only one thing left to say to you, and i hope that you will remember it well when the the time comes for me to bury your wasted flesh underfoot as i erase you from my memory, from my reality, and from all existence, for by then i will be loathe to even spare you a condescending gaze. listen well:
you are nothing to me. now save me the trouble and limp off to some nondescript corner of the universe to rot and die like the festering, otiose vermin you are, and will always be.
Labels: writing for the first time in months is kinda challenging
taika told you a secret at
10:21 PM
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