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Saturday, July 31, 2004

Don't hate the player.

I have always believed, and my experience supports it, that people are contrary motherfuckers. That most people when presented with the word yes, will say no. When presented with the idea of positive, they will take the negative. They will be contrary for the sake of some underdeveloped fantasy of individualism. Because in what we do we make ourselves more distinct than in our choice of yes or no. What more pubic means is there to differentiate yourself from the masses than to poo on their choices and reduce those who might be working on different planes through our most modern implement: cynicism and one left over from the ages, a refusal to truly know something. A refusal -as if refusing as an act in and of itself were some measure of taste, style, intelligence or other-- to engage, to evaluate or come to know this thing which we have chosen to refute, denigrate or place the most offensive sully possible: to make common.

It takes no effort to make a sharp but insecure mind feel condescended to. They do the hard work themselves after one stops speaking. It's essential to take extra steps with these wayward sons and daughters, lest we lose them to their illusions about right, wrong and the value of classes, hierarchy and levels.

Everything in nature, every single thing that surrounds you and i here today is a part of the most pervasive and enduring class war ever mounted in the history of life. Every bug, plant, leave of grass, animal and other who might contain the spirit of life is part of an absurdly brutal class system. Man's denial of this obvious truth when looking at himself is one of our most tragic failings.

There are men who are more handsome, more funny, more intelligent and more experienced than me. This is a fact. It's plain truth. There are men who get less pussy, and more. Men who make more money or less (few who make the same, but mathematically someone must), men who live more. or less. We have these variations to make life thrive. Deny this at your own peril.

And, just as my cock is small and thick by comparison to some guy i saw in a porn movie last night there are some writers, some bloggers, some photographers, poets, painters, shoemakers who do things better than others. Some more worthy of an audience. Some more worthy of praise, commentary and further reading. If you don't believe this get out of the car now because i don't have the energy to deconstruct your mamby pamby new age "everyone is great, everyone is wonderful" philosophy. Tell it to the bottom of my boot right before i crush your face for the last chicken wing in the middle of Armageddon.

I support David Fincher.

David Fincher makes movies. Great movies with visual textures that make me cum buckets. I figure i'm smarter than him. I figure i fuck better than him too, but i still support him.

David Fincher does not support me.

David doesn't write comments on my website telling me how great he thought my blog about jude's errant penis was. He doesn't because in this media foodchain i fall below him.

David Fincher ranks higher than me. Through skill, hard work, sucking gay porn producers, or whatever. The point is he raised his fucking game and did what he needed to do to get to that point where i know him but he doesn't know me. Where, no matter if i am more talented, better looking, or as i said before a better lay, he still gets the cake for the movies. I don't. He still puts asses in the seats of theatres across this great conflicted land. I don't.

I entertain a few. I piss off more but i have my place. I know it.

I've been around long enough i don't need to take anyone's shit. I've played every variation of the blogging game you can think of. I've played every variation of the attack and defend, im smart are you smarter, im funny are you funnier, i type fast are you faster games you can imagine. I know the shit i'm talking about because i lived it. And it doesn't mean i'm not wrong.

it just means i don't fuckin care if i am. Because, pisshead, I have as much right to my opinion as you do. In fact, i would argue with most, i have the right to my opinion and yours. and if you can convince me otherwise i will be a swell dood and let you keep yours.


Don't like how it works?

Tough shit. Take your keyboard and go cry to mama. Lifes hard. People are shallow, vain, and fickle. They want to be more, and i respect everyone of them for that, but at the end of the day, when the shit is falling every last one of us is going to be pushing over grandma to get out of the way.

it's how we survived this long.
it's how we continue to survive.

i'm telling you the truth your brittle ego already knows.

and as far as the writing hierarchy is concerned it's essential to praise the few great minds we find and verbally abuse those who aren't. Because without this safety mechanism, we are doomed to be over-run by an avalanche of aunt bea's peanut butter cookie recipes. We have too many writers. We have too much being said by too many people who should just go annoy their spouses.

And only through violent attrition can we overcome this dearth of mediocrity.

Peaceful means. Friendly, i love you you love me means is going to get us no where.

china put a law saying one child per couple. i say, we put a law saying one blog per city block and you have to debate all comers to hold your spot.

because then there are fewer voices. more voices that are saying something and we aren't all being bored to fucking death with each word.

Blogging is no different than regular media. You get to the top by being hot, clever, funny or ruthless.

Whining about your needs isn't going to get you anywhere.

go over to some a-list blogger and pick a fight. give the fucker a bloody nose. Tell him his font is so 1998. Wake him up. He's there now, but does he deserve to be?

if not, feed the fat to the wolves and let the hungry rule.

Posted by ruzz on July 31, 2004 at 09:14 PM in crimes against brilliant minds | Permalink


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