Pretentious Perpetuation of Problems Per Pop Culture

Before we begin, I would like to say that I am not writing this to promote or demote pop culture. How I feel about the dazed masses who revel in elements of entertainment and fashion solely due to their popularity is not the issue at hand, particularly since pop music is obviously solving deep-rooted social issues in America.

Remember when there were xenophobic ‘Muricans who hated Spanish? I guess ‘Despacito’ was the key to solving ethnicity-based hate and bigotry. Good on you, Justin. Who knew a reverse-oreo Ryan Seacrest would be the cure for racism?

Any-word, the real problem is the the bigotry of those who color themselves liberal and tolerant. It may be the latest fashion, but calling yourself a liberal does not actually make you a liberal.

Being a liberal isn’t just about equal rights. It isn’t just about wanting people to be allowed to love who they want. It isn’t just about believing people can practice whatever religion they want. It’s isn’t just about politics. It’s about not lording your likes and dislikes over people who happen to be hanging out on a different cumulus than you are.

And I know this might be a stretch folks, but hear me out.

You cannot call yourself a liberal if you talk about how stupid people who don’t like popular culture are; i.e Game of Thrones, Justin Beiber, Tay Tay, pop-rap stars. You cannot call yourself a liberal if you are telling people they don’t like something because they “haven’t given it a real chance.” You cannot call yourself a liberal if you’re calling people “pretentious hipsters” for not being part of your fandom.

And what’s worse, we as a society have become so undeniably brain-washed that we change how we feel about things as soon as the pop culture icons we idolize voice an opposing opinion.

For example, a great number of people hate country music, but if Taylor Swift somehow stumbles back over her own roots, what is the likelihood that they will stand by their attitude on a scale of Impossible to Absolutely Not? Country music lovers will no longer be dubbed hillbillies, Thomas Rhett will be the sexiest man on earth, and Folk music will be the new dead horse.

Sure, it is about keeping this lovely US of A the land of the free and the home of the brave, but our culture has dictated that we cannot be free if we are not brave, and alienating each other because we fundamentally disagree on things that dont really matter is exactly what is tearing us apart.

This country isn’t in need of a Mexican standoff. It is big enough for the both of us. No one on either side should be preaching to the other to get them to change their minds.

If you’re going to do it, you might as well start a-knock knockin’ on people’s doors with pamphlets and scripted conversation starters. It’s the same thing; We just don’t like going outside, anymore.

The Idea Guy

I had to take a communication style test today, along with the other trainees and my boss. We sat in that room with that damn sheet of paper, answering questions that were just a tad bit intrusive. And I can’t say I didn’t struggle, because I knew that all of my honest answers would put me in a category I didn’t really want my boss to know I was in.

But I did it, anyway.

Because I’m stupid, and didn’t know we would have to share.

When we looked over the results, everyone in the room ended up in Communication Style 3, except me. I was in Style 4, and it wasn’t exactly a good place to be in, at that moment.

Style 3 is people-oriented. The listeners. The caretakers. The empathizers. Everything a therapist should be.

Style 4, however, is the Idea Guy. The abstract thinker. The artist. The writer. The challenger. I can’t say I’m shocked, but no one else? No one?

I am always the oddball. I am always in a category all on my own, swimming in a soul-sucking sea of solitude that’s really just dark as fuck. What good is it being an Idea Guy if nothing I come up with is worth being read?

All it means is that I’m playing for a losing team, because numbers outweigh strength.

Strength I don’t even have.

Yay for self-esteem.

Angry Empty Expressions of Anti-Adulatory Excitement

Today, my boss brought me into her office just to talk. Somewhere along the lines of the conversation, she said that, when I’m quiet, I have facial expressions that make me seem angry.

Insert floored dropped jaw image here.

I literally never, in my life, had anyone say that to me. If anything, I’m yelled at for making too many jokes and not being serious enough.

If my facial expressions seem angry, it could be because I have a short attention-span, and we sit and look at powerpoints for 3-4 hours at once. I can’t stay with you for that long. One hour in, and I’m gone until you send us packing.

Which is a pity, because I know that the presentations are excellent.

I’m not alone in that, but I probably am the only one who zones out completely for hours at a time, just thinking about the stories I want to get home and finish.

Because seriously, living in a fictional world beats the fuck out of the real one.

But maybe they do have a point. Not all the tales I think up in my head are pleasant. Most of them are pretty damn dreary. I’d need pharmaceutical help if I was smiling while I was dreaming up a scenario very reminiscent of a scene from Passion of the Christ.

Okay, not Passion of the Christ, but on a scale of one to terrifying, I’m probably swimming somewhere in the realm of a chainsaw massacre. Just not in Texas.

Connecticut. Yeah. In Connecticut.

The other problem she brought to my attention is that I tend to say things that make it seem like I’m lazy and unwilling to work.

I do say things of that nature, but it’s always in jest.

Connecticut doesn’t seem to tolerate jokes or humorous sarcasm. A piece of me died when I realized that, because humor is literally the only coping mechanism I have against depression and anxiety.

I don’t at all mind criticism, but this was so far out of left field. I don’t know how to fix something I didn’t know was broken.

Time to get to the chopper. This world ain’t big enough for all of us, hombre. I’ll make you an offer you can’t refuse. Funny racist Arabic phrase. Everybody start Kung Fu Fighting. Lemme just cause two World Wars.

I have a right to bear arms.

‘Murica.

Generalized Anxiety Disorder

Looked into the DSM to check the exact criteria for anxiety, today. The handy dandy ol’ manual has shown me that I have almost every symptom of Generalized Anxiety Disorder except muscle tension.

Lol. Shocker.

…but I still won’t take pills. No thank you. I’m good. I’ll cope with a shit ton of Netflix.

But no chill.