So, today is the fourteenth day of black history month. This black history month has been filled with heeshee (see LL Cool J “Flava In Ya Ear (remix)”). Don Cornelius committed suicide. Twitter lost its mind (much more than it usually does). Whitney Houston died. Carlos Boozer made his head go blackface. The grammy’s, once again, relegated rap to the “go to the back door to get your award” like it usually does (Will Smith is rolling over in his… Millions of dollars. Like a disgusted Scrooge McDuck.) I found out R. Kelly is illiterate. And I’m sure I’m forgetting a lot of stuff.
This month needs to end. Now. But, no. We have to endure one more day than we usually have in the month of February. Awesome. This is the last February ever, though, so I guess it’s ok. Don’t question the Mayans. DO. NOT.
Anyway, we are now on the 14th day of this wild ass month. Valentines Day. Valentines is Latin for “Expose your emotions”. Don’t look it up. Have some faith in the author.
I said don’t look it up!
Fine. I’m going to change wikipedia. Hold on a second.
Ok. Now that that’s settled, where was I?
Ah, yes. St. Love or be Bitter Day.
I’m hoping everybody has a great day. I’m also hoping to hit the lottery that I didn’t buy a ticket for. So that leads us to reality.
I’m not winning the lottery. Everybody won’t have a great day.
People on twitter were already complaining and belittling by 7:30 am. And since 5:00 am others were anticipating that. Probably earlier, but those times are early enough to demonstrate my point that I’ve yet to get to: Unhappy is more entertaining than happy.
Nobody wants to hear happy music anywhere near as often as they want to hear some broken soul wail about their problems and heartache.
You’re demanding examples? Here:
Mary J Blige’s music sucks now that she’s not on drugs and fucked up relationships aren’t her everyday life.
Lauryn Hill took the world by storm with her “Wyclef been treating me like shit” tunes. Now she has kids and a happy relationship with a married man and we all think she’s crazy and not entertaining anymore.
Adele just owned the Grammys thanks to her boyfriends inability to distinguish the difference between Adele and a blow up doll door/mat hybrid from Sharper Image.
And Amy Winehouse (RIP)… Yeah…
Also: Reality TV. Reality TV is mainly about people fucking up in life, if I’m not mistaken (I don’t watch it. I could be wrong. But I’m not).
And most people recognize that pattern. People want Adele to be miserable so they can pretend to relate whilst drinking wine before they go to sleep (probably next to a “good” significant other). Nobody wants to watch people on TV living a entirely great and happy lives. That’s boring. We need misery and suffering! Word to Agent Smith (Matrix reference!)
I’ve stated numerous times that if rapper so and so would go back to heavy drug usage their music would be awesome again *cough* Method Man *cough*.
We’re some selfish, horrible people for these thoughts and statements. Don’t deny it, either. YOU SUCK. Do better. (I’m talking to myself here, too. *insert Gnarls Barkley “Crazy” chorus*).
But, the other side of this is that these people voluntarily shared this stuff with us. They wanted to exploit their pain and troubled lives. Some of them end up regretting it and feeling even more miserable (in their mansions and expensive, high end everythings). They thought sharing would ease the pain and maybe even get them to “the good life”. It seems to do about 33% of that if you’re talented. The other 67% is a crap shoot based on this question: How well can you deal with vultures?
And then there’s twitter and other forms of social networks. You’re probably not going to get paid for the moaning and complaining you do there. But you do it anyway. Getting it off your chest feels good, right? Right. Until you face that backlash from the nameless people who don’t give a fuck about your emotions because they’ll never meet you anyway and therefore your feelings don’t matter. Just entertain us. Digital Colosseum shit.
You see it and you participate in it. #Dont lie…
Ok, I’m tired of trying to write halfway eloquently and giving examples and shit. Here’s my point:
The spectacular spectacle of a lonely voice that doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up is the center of popular entertainment and culture. And today is the hyper realization of this ideal.
You can agree or disagree. Find examples to support or disprove my claim as you see fit. Whatever. If you don’t see this today of all days, consider yourself lucky (and maybe ignorant). I’ve lost my interest in fleshing this out any further. TV and the internet have ruined my attention span. Sorry.