Sunday, February 20, 2011

Palate cleanser

I don't want to turn into a nostalgia merchant because nostalgia is the devil. Remember when I was a kid and life was like this and I did that? Gaaahh! Fuck that stuff. I hate it. I don't want to lick my readers' faces like a little puppy dog. I don't want to write stuff that's relatable. When I go to the past, I want to go there with specifics and tell a story that's unique to my experience. I don't ever want to write things that will make people think I'm talking about the universal brotherhood of man. That's no way to learn anything new. Goddamn stupid generic nostalgia is so boring. Remember when the A-Team was on and we all drank cherry Kool-Aid? Who gives a shit? Wahhh! My parents are divorced! Somebody give me a blankie! God, I hate movies and books and songs that try to make the audience think the story being told is their story, too. Cheap, easy, lazy, self-congratulatory shortcut to contrived emotion. I'm sorry. I'm guilty. Sorry about all the nostalgia and self-pity lately. Let's blow it up with dynamite! Whooo!

For those of you who don't know me, this type of ranting means I'm feeling normal again.

Also, this post is not meant as a cheap shot at the people who left comments sharing their own experiences, which I truly appreciated and enjoyed reading. My post is a cheap shot at my own solicitation for attention.

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