First of all, I’m going be really amused if people can’t figure out what masochism is. Some people might call that arrogant, but since the only way to read my blog is to get on the internet, that means people who still haven’t figured out what masochism is also haven’t figured out that they’re literally using a device that’s connected to the internet. You know, that place where we’ve put the bulk of human knowledge, including word definitions?
Usually my posts are lighthearted and well thought out, but this time I’m going full rant just to mix things up. Basically, that means I’m not doing multiple drafts of this; I’m just going to start typing and see what happens (I believe this is the same technique used in the majority of what’s posted on the internet, so I’m following the crowd; sue me).
It also probably means someone will be offended or something since it seems tons of people can’t find any meaning in their lives unless they’re offended by something on a daily basis. More power to them; I can’t imagine how tiring it must be to always be on the prowl for something to get offended by. Personally, I’m offended that they’re offended. See what I did there? I win.
One of my favorite things to do on the internet is to read comments on videos and articles. I realize comment sections exist ostensibly for people to engage in meaningful conversation about a variety of topics. But we all know it takes about 1 billionth of a second for that to change. If the great works of literature are like opulent mansions, then comment sections are like abandoned houses that have been carpet bombed for eight months straight.
Out of all the crap people say in comments sections, I really like it when it’s some music video, some comedy show, or some interview, and there’s someone who says, “I think so-and-so is overrated.” Now, some of you might be thinking I’m getting offended by the fact that this person hasn’t explained why so-and-so is overrated. (I’m more disappointed, largely because I haven’t learned how to stop the internet from controlling me like a cheap puppet). Ultimately, some random stranger on the internet isn’t going to determine my enjoyment of a music video, but it’s nice to see them try. Oddly enough, I’m capable of forming my own opinions. But I’m an idiot, so I keep reading the comments, thinking somehow if I read enough of them, the universe will shape itself around my desires.
Anyway, almost every one of these comments gets a response like, “Let’s see you do better. Since you can’t do better than this artist, you can’t say they suck!”
That sort of statement might literally lobotomize anyone who hears it. So, I can’t have an opinion on a music video because I’m not as talented as the artist? Fine. How is this nameless twerp qualified to say the artist is good then? Because by their own contrived reasoning, Mr. I-Don’t-Have-a-Music-Career-Either can’t have an opinion on any music since he isn’t a professional artist. Congratulations: you just invalidated your own point. Stupid crap like this hurts my brain and makes me want to move to Antarctica.
And I also love how there will be that one guy commenting on a political article who actually tries to have an intelligent conversation with people. He’ll map out his reasoning for everyone and provide decent evidence. Then someone will call him an idiot, a Nazi, a right-wing nut, a left-wing nut, or whatever other stock insults are popular that day. The guy will try a couple of times to have a reasonable conversation, but then it’s like the black hole of idiocy sucks him in, and you can see his arguments and vocabulary starting to sound more like an angry twelve-year-old who just learned how to swear two weeks beforehand.
Like I said earlier, I read all of these comments, and it’s probably because I’m a hypocrite. But hey, at least I can admit it. Because admitting I’m a hypocrite solves absolutely nothing, but it makes me feel good about myself. The best part is, I’ll ask for comments on this blog post with complete awareness of the irony and hypocrisy. I guess that makes this post some kind of post-modern/meta concoction that I should frame on a wall somewhere just to give myself some unearned self-praise.
These are the sorts of life-changing ideas I need to share. In the end, they make me the powerful social force everyone has come to know and wish they didn’t know.