Music is a thing that I like. Music is probably a thing you like, too. Sharing music that we like, well, that’s a fine and beautiful thing to do.
I know there are about a million ways to perform that noble activity on various hand-held devices promoted and sold by various corporations who are interested in drawing you inexorably and perhaps, given their understanding of the way our brains work, irrevocably into their cash-and-credit cloudy chance-of-rain walled garden. And hey, friends and other people who somehow wound up reading this because your favored search engine just doesn’t know what the fuck: that’s just fine. Hell, I own APPLE INCORPORATED DEVICES too, and I’m down with googly android plastic pals who can mediate my experiences as I attempt to make connections with other humans. I’m a PC diehard, I guess.
It’s all good, until it’s not.
Here’s a thing I’ve been thinking about lately: the Mahayana Buddhist doctrine of Emptiness — unlike the ‘traditional’ No-Self doctrine that gravity-dropped straight rectified wisdom-turd out of the Buddha’s ass and I reckon gets it just right, self as process not thing, self as flame not candle — well, that Mahayana Emptiness Doctrine is intellectually indulgent incoherence packaged up in the lame wrapping paper of ‘mystery’. There is no wisdom there, I reckon. Dude, I know the mahayana became the dominant vehicle of Buddhist experience 16 or 17 centuries ago. I know. I don’t give a shit.
Even more disappointing, and, if you sit down and actually think about for a minute or ten, offensive to the Heart Of The Buddha Matter was the introduction of worship-worthy deities — that ludicrous ‘celestial buddha’ bullshit — where suddenly WAAHEY! there are goddamn superheroes in these crazy ‘heaven’ places, like AMITABHA BUDDHA and MAITREYA BUDDHA and SPIDERMAN BUDDHA, to whom you are supposed to pray for boons and interventions. It’s all wrong, it’s all corrupt and compromised, and that over-elaborate nonsense arose and got traction around the same time and to the same degree if not in exactly the same way that the message of the historical Christ fella was and is corrupted and compromised longish and long after the Fact. It disappoints, as every modern (even if by ‘modern’ you’re going back a dozen centuries or more) religious repack does. Fuck that noise. I’m no fundamentalist, but I am annoyed by fuckery of all stripes.
Wait, what was I talking about? Right: music and the sharing of it.
I love the music, my friends. And I stumbled onto ThisIsMyJam a month or two back, and I’ve been weekly or more often pointing to songs, generally while in my cups in my ritualistic Friday night worship sessions, and I recommend them to you. No embeddies, more’s the pity, so I link.
At least until the site gets bought out, and compromised, and corrupted: please come and join me in my weekly worship.
Remember George Carlin’s ‘Asshole, Jackoff or Scumbag?’ Well, if you’re not an old fart like me, you might not, so enjoy:
This Carlin bit comes to mind, or to my mind at least, about… well, about 5 to 10 times a day, to be honest, lately. Because let’s face it folks: we are positively awash in assholes, ass-deep in jackoffs, and drowning in a sea of scumbags. Turn on the TV and you’re assaulted with full-auto barrages of all three. We’re lied to, manipulated, and milked for every last goddamned bit of consumer-juice we’re good for, pretty much every waking second. Let’s not even get into the mild-mannered khaki-wearing foryourowngooder digital buttspelunkers at the NSA, and their shitweasel enablers in every boardroom and Congressional Blowjob Parlor the world over. But I sense I am getting away from my main point here. Focus, stav.
To wit: fuck these guys. Specifically, fuck the Interactive Advertising Bureau. Also, fuck the Digital Advertising Alliance. While we’re at it, fuck the Network Advertising Initiative, the Direct Marketing Association, the American Advertising Federation, the Association of National Advertisers, and just for fun, fuck the Interactive Advertising Bureau all over again. Fuck them in the eyeball with Hitler’s petrified diesel-dipped dick.
Here’s why (beyond the obvious).
Are the people behind this assholes, jerkoffs, or scumbags? I will let you decide, gentle reader.
Whichever way you go, the sheer dimwitted audacity of that is kind of breathtaking, isn’t it? I mean, it doesn’t take much in the way of balls to lie to stupid people in the media these days — hell, it’s expected — but doing it in print seems quite a bit more ballsy. And stupid.
Stupid and Ballsy™, the new hit show on Fox, coming this fall.
But I’ve got to thank them for dragging their big dumb testicles across my chin. I must admit that working up a nice frothing head of righteous indignation at stuff like this helps reassure me that even though I’m getting old, I’m not getting any more willing to gobble down the crap and ask for more. Recreational fury keeps the valves clean.
So, anyway: they recommend you send an email to [email protected] to somehow validate the spurious FUD-flavoured bullshit they’re spouting. Me, I’d suggest you send a message to that address, too. But perhaps one that compliments them on their massive, stupid, stupid balls.
Step 1: Saccharine art-directed wall of text ad copy (which, honestly, is just a little too twee, even if its heart is in the right place) gets auto-elevated to pretentious ‘manifesto’ by virality hopefuls pitching their product at Facebook likers and overwrought teenagers.
Step 2: Random loveable cynic Livejournaller rewrites manifesto, hilariously.
YOU EXIST. BE AS SELF INDULGENT AS YOU CAN. DON’T THINK TOO MUCH. BAD SITUATIONS ARE EASY TO CHANGE AND IF THIS ISN’T TRUE FOR YOU, DON’T GET LOSER GERMS ON THIS SIGN. MY EVERY THOUGHT IS SO DEEP. IF YOU ARE YOUNG, ATTRACTIVE AND PRIVILEGED, LOVE IS EASY. NO FATTIES, NO OLDSTERS, NO HOBOS. NOTHING IS COMPLICATED WHEN YOU CAN BUY WHAT YOU WANT. DIFFERENT TYPE SIZES CAN MAKE APHORISMS PROFOUND. EAT RAINBOWS, SHIT STARS. ASK THE NEXT PERSON YOU SEE HOW DESPERATE THEY ARE, AND SHARE YOUR DESIRE TO HUNT THEM FOR SPORT. TRAVEL OFTEN; TOURISM IS AN ADEQUATE SUBSTITUTE FOR DEPTH. IF YOU ARE UNHAPPY, IT’S PROBABLY BECAUSE YOU MISSED YOUR CHANCE AT AWESOME. LIFE IS BEING BORN ON THIRD BASE AND ACTING LIKE HITTING A TRIPLE IS SIMPLE. HANG ON TO THOSE DREAMS, IT MAKES IT EASIER TO SELL YOU. LIFE IS SHORT AND BRUTAL IF YOU CAN’T AFFORD TO LIVE A WINSOME CLICHE. WELCOME TO HELL.
Step 3: Clumsy Photochop remix.