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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/868673-This-ones-about-painting-that-gold
Rated: GC · Book · Personal · #2002599
My fourth blog. Amazing yet disconcerting. Don't worry; this'll go away in a year or so.
#868673 added December 16, 2015 at 9:02pm
Restrictions: None
This one's about painting that gold.
Blog City image small


*GiftP* ""'Live in such a way that if anyone should speak badly about you, no one would believe it.' -Audrey Hepburn. Do you agree?"

Hey y'all...I'm gonna be upfront and say I'm in a terrible mood right now. Got some bad news, and I don't really feel like talking about it at the moment, so I'm gonna do this thing here that I love and see if that'll cheer me up or at least put me in a better place for the time being. I love you guys and thanks for understanding.

I'm actually kinda perplexed by this Audrey Hepburn quote, and I'm not sure why. I agree with it, but I think because it was said so long ago and it comes from a different era, I don't know if it holds true anymore.

See, back in the day, Ms. Hepburn wasn't on the same 24/7 news cycle that we've grown into in the 21st century. Sure, she lived under a camera, and celebrities had their share of struggles back then just like they do now, but she also didn't have to worry about camera phones in everyone's pockets and TMZ wanting to shoot and display her every move. We've obliterated the mystique that used to surround the famous....now, anyone with a working knowledge of Google can tell you everything and more than you ever cared to know about how the other half lives. What was just gossip and rumors fifty years ago now comes with photographic evidence and twenty people coming out of the woodwork to say they saw or knew someone who knows someone who saw something shitty happen, and this person or that one is a horrible animal because someone else couldn't be allowed to take advantage of someone's status. "I didn't get an autograph when they were leaving the hospital or out to dinner with their family" turns into "He/she spit at me and called me names and I'm butthurt by this rich asshole who thinks they're better than me for trying to live a normal life". And as the general public, we're more inclined now to say "Fuck them!" in regards to the pretty people, when we really should be saying "Leave them alone and mind your damn business!"

I think everyone at one time or another has wanted to be famous and live some gloriously exuberant lifestyle, without understanding that not only is there a lot of work that goes into their craft, but also into promoting it and dealing with all the regular day-to-day shit everyone else goes through. "We're all gonna lie, we're all gonna cry, and we're all gonna take painful shits."   And that's kinda how it goes for everyone. I have learned that I would be a horrible celebrity, because the second I'm out somewhere having a moment that many of us already have and some jackhole sticks a camera in my face, I'm gonna get shitty with them. "Hey, I'm trying to eat a Super Mighty   here, with my family, like all these other people, so fuck off!" and then word'll get around that I was a mega dick to one intrusive prick, instead of me just stopping there after feeding 1,000 homeless Syrian refugees out of the back of a pickup truck and curing butt cancer in my spare time between the free Hip-Hop concerts I put on to support worldwide global cooling, like awwww helllllll naw. Because that's how shit works, and that's how the media sells things...they have worked hard to condition us to believe we'll watch/read/click on stories involving people doing dumb shit at their worst. And it's not fair, and it's not right. Like when I used to go to karaoke nights all the time with the J-Bag$, and one day while I'd stopped in a gas station on my way to work to buy cigarettes the cashier looked up and he was like "J-Bag$!" and I wanted to crawl inside someone's gas tank with a lit cig rather than talk about whatever happened that week at The GPC  . Please, take my money and don't small-talk me...it makes me uncomfortable. And if you're gonna persist, ask me about something good I've done, and not something closer to a catastrophic tire fire. Like "No! I'm more complex than what you saw on a night I was celebrating a promotion and had gotten myself overserved enough to make questionable decisions!" But there isn't time often for a lengthy rebuttal when you're on someone else's terms; hell, there's barely enough time to grab your shit and leave with the Walk Of Shame leg-slashing required to save as much face as you can with a line of people behind you.

It happens here on WDC too at times, when you start getting involved with more activities and that's how people come to know you...you're in some fun thing, and a few weeks later you get a random review from a newbie who's like (this is just an example...it hasn't happened lately) "Oh, you're the guy who wrote the sorta homophobic blog entry with the Christmas song rip-off!   Here's a three-star review of this poem you wrote 15 years ago, you bag of shit...keep writing!" and they don't even know I've been a member for fourteen and a half years and to whom and what I've contributed to. It's little things like that that maybe shouldn't piss me off, but they do, and it makes me appreciate some celebrities when they get outed for certain transgressions and get their name dragged through the dirt and how they handle it. I give them credit for not straight choke-slamming a bitch, and they don't get enough props for their restraint. Because that's the world we live in now, twenty+ years after the death of Audrey Hepburn.

But it goes without saying...be a good person- if not all the time, then as much as possible. For your own conscience, if nothing more. No matter what you do, someone will always be looking to take you down a peg or three. "I think it's great how you used to be great..."   and "My neighbors ain't doin' much better and we're makin' competition instead of stickin' together."   It's like it almost doesn't matter what you've accomplished or what you had to do to get to where you are now, because someone's always gonna pop up to remind you of when you were at your worst, and when you try to explain to them how things have changed for the better like they ain't got nothin' to say still, that's all they remember. And people get pissed when they ain't got nothin' to talk about to make themselves look rosier. Don't matter how you act or what you overcame...all they care about is them and their perception. And I don't need their respect or redemption...if I fished for it then that's what would be seen. I'm straight with not doing anything and only acting in the best interest of my beliefs, so I can minimize the drama and not having to worry so much about making anything more copacetic or having to regain good graces. I'm ok with not bothering or having to be bothered; not wondering about anyone's hidden agendas. Let me fucking be...I'd rather be charitable anonymously and quiet everywhere else in life than making a big parade out of everything that becomes open to all sortsa talk, and I don't want my psyche murdered and put on display because I did a good thing once. Don't we all have better things to do than erasing someone else's shine because someone else wanted to act on out-of-context reports? Fuck man, I'm just trying to write a blog entry and have a good time...sorry I'm "unpatriotic" for not flying an American flag over all the shit I do.

I can't just make anyone believe anything. I do what I can, when I can, and that's that. I stopped living with the idea that I could change peoples' minds and perceptions a long ass time ago. There are too many people out there, and I'm not gonna please them all. At some point, I'll need to figure out how to start making myself happy- first and foremost. And people may not like that because it doesn't serve their needs, and others will fall off because I'm no longer interesting. Fuck 'em. I'm worried about me, and my shit, and what I have to go through...not the petty little "remember when" shit that I could do and then it came around and bit me in the ass. If that makes me selfish, then I'm glad something I did for anyone registered on your scale. I'll be in my own little world, happy, and not trying to fit my life into anyone else's. I had a RZA line in my head, but I can't find it now and instead I'm stuck on this, Bobby being BOBBY  ...and now I need to go make a sandwich. Tuna, if ya wanna hold me to that.

Blog divider.


Gimme a second to check on where we're at on Day Four of "Invalid Item...oh yes, "Joy To The World". I have a tab already up with the lyrics from last night, because I've been trying to make a better effort at being prepared. Of course, that doesn't help when your first inclination upon hearing those words is Three Dog Night  ...and then wondering how much coke was hoovered before that performance, and then getting sucked into another VH1 clip about just how much drugs played a part in their history. Here's a live recount of how the original 3DN video went for me:

0:04: Lordy, these seventies tv shows with musical guests were no joke. There's a damn orchestra up there!

0:11: Holy shit, that dude has a nose that could obliterate so much cocaine...either by inhaling it, or sneezing it. And that 'stasche...pretty sure you'd need a permit to ride that thing.

0:22: He's into it though. He's feelin' this song. It's a good song to feel like that about. It's rawk, but with a get-down-come-feel-this-with-us mega-vibe. I wanna t-shirt that proclaims "I'm down with Jeremiah".

0:47: MAKE HIM THE KING! SOMEBODY MAKE HIM THE KING OF THE WORLD!!

1:07: Huh...there's a guy in the band who sings some backup vocals and pretty much only plays the tambourine. When the music industry first started cutting back on expenses (presumably to keep dudes like Chuck Negron all up in the stuff), I'm pretty sure they first let all the tambourine players go from all the popular mid-70's bands. 'Cuz I can't do anything musically, but I can probably keep a steady tambo beat...and I can shake my ass a li'l more than these cats are too. The real story shouldn't be how Chuck Negron blew $30 million on heroin and lived in LA dumpsters during the eighties and nineties...we should be focusing on the big fro'd-up dudes rockin' the tambourines and whatever happened to them. And what about the lead singers who could keep their jobs, but were forced to become frontmen/women now with tambourines, but looked awful doing so? "You'll have to pay me in more hookers 'n blow for me to keep that shit up, Artie..." and that was the end of all the great seventies music.

1:09: Damn sure that's Lisa Kudrow in the crowd, fading to the left as the camera pans to the right. Shaking her head and clapping to the beat during the guitar solo. Please be Lisa Kudrow...she looks like she's having more fun than she ever did being the outcast friend Phoebe on Friends. Have all the fun, Phoebe! Before you're homeless in NYC!

1:17: Another tambourine guy? Just struttin' out from nowhere? Man, did I grow up in the wrong decade!

1:23: And I didn't live in a time where you wouldn't get your ass kicked for saying you were a "rainbow rider" and a "straight-shootin' son of a gun"? God the seventies were magical.

1:59: Rock bands don't have this kind of clap-along fun anymore. Like, they're lovin' it, and the studio audience is lovin' it, and I've been to all kinds of concerts and I don't recall having this much fun...not like they're havin'.

2:30: I was kinda hoping they'd bring out the bullfrog, or at least give him a shout-out. Damn. Musta been the excess...and that wasn't discussed in the videos I watched after that. *Confused* Where are you, Jeremiah?


No. Instead, this video is as close to cool as this Christmas gets. And it's not very cool, because I've already stopped it thirty seconds in. I shouldn't have to wonder when the bass will drop during a prestigious holiday classic.


"Repeat the sounding joy (x44 at over a hundred beats per minute)."
Lyrics.  


And now, your Spamtastic rendition:

Joy To Your World

Joy to your world! That's all that counts.
'Cuz it's good to be the king (or queen).
Let everyone kiss your ass...
'Cuz no one's more important than you!
'Cuz no one's more important than you!
'Cuz no one, yes no one, is better than you!

Joy to your world! It's all about you.
No one's troubles matter
because they are not you
and why should anyone care
about anyone else but you?
I mean, they're not you,
and no one's better than you!

No one has your struggles
and no one knows your pain.
You're the highest priority
of all your friends and mates
as far as we all know!
As far as we all know!
As far and wide as we all know!


Thank you! I'll be appearing later on this month at the Bethlehem Lounge, so buy your tickets in advance or maybe one will just be there for you immaculately. *Wink* *Rolling*

For the blog.


*Ring3* I'm using the "ring3" emoticon here because there aren't clown or clown car ones, and last night there was another Republican debate  , or as I like to think of them, another reason I'm glad I don't have cable. At this point in the 2016 election cycle, they're overkill...it's like trying to pick a starting quarterback for your NFL franchise from the local girl scouts meeting down the street. Jeb! hates Trump, and Trump thinks he's jealous...Dr. Ben wants to lobotomize the entire hemisphere that doesn't contain the US...the Cruz vs. Rubio undercard winner is that man's own personal presidency...and for every fifty ideas that come out of Trump's mouth, maybe one makes actual sense and won't destroy the planet. And then there are the ten or so other people involved, who are less crazy and therefore don't stand a chance at getting the GOP nod. There are shitshows, and then there is this display of right-wing lunacy. We are better off having no president than any of them. And speaking of starting quarterbacks...

*Football* Who knew all Tom Brady cares about this time of year is playing football? I mean, if I were buddies with Donald Trump  , I'd be trying to turn the focus of any conversation about that into anything else too, so why are reporters covering New England so concerned about the Brady/Trump connection? No one's asking Trump about Brady. And I care about football way more than politics (even though I'm a fan of neither men), and I'm no journalist, but even I know a player's next game is the most important thing on their mind...not who they've played golf with a few times or judged beauty pageants for and also happens to be in the running for the top job in the nation. C'mon man.  

*Dog2* And finally, I'm all about the idea of making presidential candidates appear more like human beings who are into normal people stuff, and I truly believe there will be a female president in office during my lifetime, but Hillary Clinton...are we sure that she's not a cyborg? And Carly Fiorina...look, if I had to choose between her and Hillary which one I wanted to spend a night with, she wins by default even though she's another failed CEO and I've already decided I'm not being by myself one more evening. Luckily, I don't have to make that choice, and I'm sure Fiorina was probably a great-lookin' gal twenty years ago minus the Hewlett-Packard mess she oversaw and the fact that it maybe loosened a bunch of her screws (and no one holds a candle to Chelsea Clinton, my one and only political family member crush), but who is advising Carly? And if you've got pets I understand that you'll often do crazy things because of your love for them, but who's allowing her to eat dog biscuits on camera?   For the most part, the video in the article kinda makes her appear cute and fun (although she still says a couple of rancid things), but the part where she breaks off the treat and shares it with a dog like part for you, part for me is fucking disturbing...and I get it that that's what some dog owners do, and maybe you do it too, but I don't wanna see that and I don't wanna know, especially from someone we should be considering in opposition of human torched Cheeto Donald Trump. We all have our weird little things we do in private (I'm a nail-biter...gross, I know), and that's where they should stay. Also, why did she think it'd be a good idea to wear all black for a shoot in which she's being covered in dogs? Was a lint-roller not in the budget? And if I'm not mistaken, Obama owns a dog, or at least he did, which goes to show you that I know more about this country than she does. Vote for me!

Ok friends, that's all I've got for today. I'm gonna go back now to wondering what has become of my life in medical terms, and hope it doesn't dash what's left of my hopes and dreams. Peace, the curse is found, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/868673-This-ones-about-painting-that-gold