The Sound Of One Man Jumping In Silence
...confusion is a good way to describe bumper stickers. Ostensibly, bumper stickers are a straight forward manner with which to convey a simple idea to other passengers on the road.
"I love my breed-of-a-dog!"
"Star Trek kicks Star Wars' ass!"
"Mitt Romney has cool hair!"
So while the ideas are simple, the underlying message tends to confound me sometimes. Specifically when it comes to taking ownership of accomplishments that you have no stake in. The biggest one that comes to mind are those that tout the usually-mundane accomplishments of one's child. "My son/daughter is an honor student at some school!" sounds amazing at a glance, but it also feels like one person rubbing it in everyone's face. Maybe "My kid makes your kid look like a toaster oven when it comes to cognitive functions!"? At least that one seems more honest to me.
But again, it is less about the accomplishment itself than the presumed parent or guardian trying to claim ownership. While it is obvious that this gifted child is the result of a night of wicked backseat drunken rage sex, can you really take credit for this child scoring highest on the quiz for "Mr. Popper's Penguins"? I continually reference Bill Burr's rant from his 2009 comedy special about mom's across the globe patting themselves on the back for having "the hardest job on the planet"....putting DVD's into DVD players and all.
Yes, I am without a child of my own. Fair point. I think maybe a more balanced self-congratulatory bumper sticker industry springing up could subside my annoyance. Try a few of these ones on...see how they fit.
"My son/daughter is quite possibly ruining your landscaping as you read this."
"My television viewing habits are mentally stilted, emotionally hollow and lower my I.Q. in real time."
"I spent election season watching internet porn and forgot to vote."
...death metal sometimes works because it perfectly sets the insanity of the human race to a soundtrack. Without going into any specific person, place or thing, I find myself laughing at the events around me too often to feel comfortable. No, I'm not talking about the horrifying actions and consequences of decisions made on the world stage. Those events are horrifying on a level that becomes overwhelming in scale and makes one realize how little impact we can have.
Throwing myself into the pile, I feel as if we are all broken toys. Gleefully broken toys that revel in our own individual mania. As it refers to death metal, I think that the more interesting music of the genre helps me to make sense of it in a way that detailed explanations never could. The combination of dissonant guitar riffs with percussive rhythms that defy logic, it represents what is an otherwise Benny Hill-esque existence that is impossible to run from. Sometimes it scare me a little. Sometimes it causes laughter that should be reserved for a Monty Python film. Sometimes I want to run as far from it as my legs will carry me. Sometimes I cannot look away.
Read: Batman No Man's Land by Greg Rucka
Watch: Regular Show
Listen: Burning Love Rotten Thing To Say
"I love my breed-of-a-dog!"
"Star Trek kicks Star Wars' ass!"
"Mitt Romney has cool hair!"
So while the ideas are simple, the underlying message tends to confound me sometimes. Specifically when it comes to taking ownership of accomplishments that you have no stake in. The biggest one that comes to mind are those that tout the usually-mundane accomplishments of one's child. "My son/daughter is an honor student at some school!" sounds amazing at a glance, but it also feels like one person rubbing it in everyone's face. Maybe "My kid makes your kid look like a toaster oven when it comes to cognitive functions!"? At least that one seems more honest to me.
But again, it is less about the accomplishment itself than the presumed parent or guardian trying to claim ownership. While it is obvious that this gifted child is the result of a night of wicked backseat drunken rage sex, can you really take credit for this child scoring highest on the quiz for "Mr. Popper's Penguins"? I continually reference Bill Burr's rant from his 2009 comedy special about mom's across the globe patting themselves on the back for having "the hardest job on the planet"....putting DVD's into DVD players and all.
Yes, I am without a child of my own. Fair point. I think maybe a more balanced self-congratulatory bumper sticker industry springing up could subside my annoyance. Try a few of these ones on...see how they fit.
"My son/daughter is quite possibly ruining your landscaping as you read this."
"My television viewing habits are mentally stilted, emotionally hollow and lower my I.Q. in real time."
"I spent election season watching internet porn and forgot to vote."
...death metal sometimes works because it perfectly sets the insanity of the human race to a soundtrack. Without going into any specific person, place or thing, I find myself laughing at the events around me too often to feel comfortable. No, I'm not talking about the horrifying actions and consequences of decisions made on the world stage. Those events are horrifying on a level that becomes overwhelming in scale and makes one realize how little impact we can have.
Throwing myself into the pile, I feel as if we are all broken toys. Gleefully broken toys that revel in our own individual mania. As it refers to death metal, I think that the more interesting music of the genre helps me to make sense of it in a way that detailed explanations never could. The combination of dissonant guitar riffs with percussive rhythms that defy logic, it represents what is an otherwise Benny Hill-esque existence that is impossible to run from. Sometimes it scare me a little. Sometimes it causes laughter that should be reserved for a Monty Python film. Sometimes I want to run as far from it as my legs will carry me. Sometimes I cannot look away.
Read: Batman No Man's Land by Greg Rucka
Watch: Regular Show
Listen: Burning Love Rotten Thing To Say
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