Deep Disappointment

Be warned: this is a pretty long rant. But I believe it will be worth your time to read it. I will be very grateful if you choose to take a few minutes and hear me out.

I hate to say it, but people never cease to disappoint me. Not everyone, mind you, but I see more and more every day.

I know it might sound childish, but I have a bit of a beef with the pre-school system. It seems that many teachers (and parents, in some cases) have neglected to teach their charges how to "share." Yes, I, Gavrich, a 17 year-old boy, am upset about (the lack of) sharing, as well as more general issues.

After school each day, a bunch of my fellow day students (of all high school grade levels) play—on Nintendo64—the classic game "SuperSmashBros.," in the school auditorium. It usually ends up with a dozen or so students sitting and watching while four of my fellow 6th Formers (high school seniors), for lack of a better term, "hog" the game controllers. Instead of being decent citizens, this Gang of Four chooses to bar nearly all others from playing, and get bent considerably far out-of-shape when someone asks that they share, citing the fact that they are 6th Formers. I, too, am a 6th Former, but whenever I ask to play, the response consists of un-pleasantries the likes of which I will not quote here, because doing so would sink me to the level of these individuals. Each of them is so engrossed in this pastime that he finds it unreasonable to sit out for one game so that someone else may be able to play. Suffice it to say, it is not at all mature or respectful.

Why don’t I leave, then? you might ask. I'll admit to enjoying what few rounds I am allowed to play, and will also admit to enjoying watching others play, as silly as it sounds. But I also sit there in the hopes that urging my peers to do the very grown-up (first-grade-grown-up, that is) work of occasionally sharing will eventually sink in. Thus far, it hasn't. I'm beginning to lose hope, and will likely need to take some mild corrective action with what little authority I have. I am certainly not wont to use physical force, but the cunning word is mightier than the fist, anyway.

I can stomach the abuse from my fellow 6th Formers--I have been teased and belittled throughout my school life--but what really upsets me is that these fundamentally disrespectful souls have become the role models for many of the younger students that wish to play. As a result, most of the 3rd and 4th Formers in this group have succumbed to the poisonous peer-pressure and have taken to deriding my every effort to inspire some fundamental respect (I hate to use the word so often, but it's most applicable to this situation) in those around me. In turn, these younger students will become bullies themselves, and the horrid cycle will be endless.

I am profoundly saddened to see this. I do not mean to seem arrogant, and I am certainly not looking for pity. Also, do not take this rant to mean that I think I am better than everyone else, and that I am the perfect human being as far as morals go. I know far better than that. I'll admit to being a nuisance who does not relate well to his peers. I'll admit that I tend to speak in a way that can be seen as condescending (I do not intend this; it is simply the way I am). I’ll also admit to periodically shooting my mouth off when I ought to keep quiet. However, these slip-ups are nowhere near the level at which the insults are shot back at me (and countless others).

Despite my many foibles, I MUST be granted the following: I respect others until I am made to feel otherwise. And believe it or not, it takes a great deal to turn me against someone. What I see daily is an unacceptably irresponsible set of behavior, not just towards me but towards many younger students who are undeserving of this malice.

Today, one of this “Gang of Four” made fun of me for being “the kind of person our school wants us to be.” He actually made fun of me for trying to respect people! I have never been so mortified or outraged in my entire life. I couldn’t control my anger, and I insulted him in a childish way, which I deeply regret. Nonetheless, if this is what my generation will be like, I’m skeptical of our future as human beings. Once respect starts to become uncool and obsolete, there is no turning back. And to me, that is as frightening as it gets.

Thank you; no lyrical selection tonight.

A Brief Ejaculation (see secondary definition of the word)

"Come on!" (no pun intended)

Uttered by yours truly a couple of hours ago. During an episode of Law & Order: Criminal Intent on Bravo, a commercial opens up with a bottle of Korbel, a cheap champagne, against a black background. All of a sudden, the cork bursts off the bottle, followed by a great gushing of champagne foam. This gushing continues in silence for three to five seconds, and the thick foam drips down, covering the bottle. The ad ends with the fizz around the bottle dissipating, and the name "Korbel" re-emerging. Now, if you know me or read my blog, you know why this is distressing to me. I realize that sex is an important element in effective advertising, but this Korbel commercial is a bit over the top. And don't give me any "you're over-analyzing" crap. I think I've watched enough television to know what companies are getting at with these kinds of commercials.

This evening's lyrical selection is related to my quarrel with the corporate advertising industry.

Billy Joel, "Captain Jack"

"Saturday night and you're still hangin' around
Tired of livin' in your one-horse town
Like to find a little hole in the ground
For a while

So you go to the village in your tie-dye jeans
And you stare at the junkies and the closet queens
It's just like some pornographic magazine
And you smile

Captain Jack will get you high tonight
And take you to your special island
Captain Jack will get you by tonight
Just a little push and you'll be smilin'

Your sister's gone out. She's on a date
You just sit at home and masturbate
The phone is gonna ring soon but you just can't wait
For that call

So you stand on the corner in you New English clothes
And you look so polished from your hair down to your toes
But still your finger's gonna pick your nose
After all

But Captain Jack will get you high tonight
And take you to your special island
Captain Jack will get you by tonight
Just a little push and you'll be smilin'
La da da, Oh yeah, yeah

So you decide to take a holiday
You got your tape deck and your brand new Chevrolet
Ah but there's no place to go anyway
And what for...
You've got everything, but nothing's cool
They've just found your father in the swimming pool
And you guess you won't be going back to school
Anymore...

But Captain Jack will get you high tonight
And take you to your special island
Captain Jack will get you by tonight
Just a little push and you'll be smilin'
La da da, Oh yeah, yeah

So you play your albums and you smoke your pot
And you meet your girlfriend in the parking lot
Oh, but still you're aching for the things you have not got
What went wrong...
And if you can't understand why your world is so dead
And why you've got to keep in style and feed your head
Well, you're twenty-one and still your mother makes your bed
And that's too long...

But Captain Jack will get you high tonight
And take you to your special island
Captain Jack will get you by tonight
Just a little push and you'll be smilin'..."

A Big-Time Bummer

Apparently , Anna Nicole Smith was found nearly dead in her hotel room today. She was pronounced so by 3 PM. Any way you cut it, it's really very sad. I must say that I will miss her presence in the entertainment-news arena.

I know what you're probably thinking. I, Gavrich, do not seem like I would be sympathetic to Anna Nicole. But hear me out.

Anna Nicole embodied a lot of traits that are associated with America. She rose from humble beginnings (one of six kids in her family, raised in Texas) to fame and wealth by opportunism, a very "American" progression.

Smith gained that wealth in a rather dubious way, by becoming a naughtier version of the famed Marilyn Monroe. Like it or not, PLAYBOY is an institution that is thoroughly American, because (like it or not) of its total lack of subtlety as far as sexuality is concerned. Americans can be generalized with a great many adjectives, but "subtle" is not one of them.

After her decline in desirability due to a gain in weight and adoption of some bad habits--her uncomplimentary television show and horrid drunkenness at the MTV awards (I think) made her a laughing stock--in American fashion, she tried to turn her life around. America is a land of second chances, and it seemed that she was doing alright, especially after becoming the spokesmodel for Trimspa. But tragically, the death of her son proved devastating, and her death this afternoon was the end of an overall-unfortunate story. But in spite of this, you've got to admire her (albeit brief) turnaround, if not much else.

A few minor Americanisms about Anna Nicole (forgive me if I repeat myself***):
- Worked in both a Wal-Mart and a Red Lobster, both stereotypical American establishments.
- Resorted to stripping in order to support her son, met her future husband J. Howard Marshall, who was 63 years older than she.
- A lot of plastic surgery.
- Became a kind of Marilyn-Monroe, Jr. Marilyn Monroe herself (and her mystique) is thoroughly, undoubtedly American.
- Went bankrupt.
- Sued for half of Marshall's estate after he died--we Americans love our lawsuits.
- Reality TV show documenting her private life and antics.

***In these "Americanisms," I do not mean to be stereotypical, or to say that these are only American things. However, they can be closely associated with our great country, for better or worse.

I suppose only one set of lyrics is appropriate for this evening's offering:

Elton John/Bernie Taupin, "Candle in the Wind"

"Goodbye Norma Jean,
Though I never knew you at all
You had the grace to hold yourself
While those around you crawled.
They crawled out of the woodwork
And they whispered into your brain
They set you on the treadmill
And they made you change your name...

And it seems to me you lived your life
Like a candle in the wind,
Never knowing who to cling to
When the rain set in.
And I would have liked to have known you
But I was just a kid,
Your candle burned out long before
Your legend ever did...

Loneliness was tough
The toughest role you ever played,
Hollywood created a superstar
And pain was the price you paid.
Even when you died
Oh the press still hounded you,
All the papers had to say
Was that Marilyn was found in the nude...

And it seems to me you lived your life
Like a candle in the wind,
Never knowing who to cling to
When the rain set in.
And I would have liked to have known you
But I was just a kid,
Your candle burned out long before
Your legend ever did...

Goodbye Norma Jean
From the young man in the 22nd row,
Who sees you as something more than sexual
More than just our Marilyn Monroe...

And it seems to me you lived your life
Like a candle in the wind,
Never knowing who to cling to
When the rain set in.
And I would have liked to have known you
But I was just a kid,
Your candle burned out long before
Your legend ever did..."

Notes on the Evening of a Super Bowl

First of all, Hoorah Colts. Okay, got that over with.

Did anyone else notice that this evening's Super Bowl commercials were A) not up to snuff with previous Super Bowl commercials, and B) especially moribund? There was the heart-disease-awareness commercial which depicted a fairly scrawny, gray-haired guy dressed in a heart-shaped costume getting fairly ominously beaten-up by a variety of nasty-looking characters who represent various heart-related maladies (high blood presure, diabetes, high cholesterol, and the like). In another commercial, a GM car assembly-line machine contemplates and then daydreams of its suicide by jumping off a bridge. I'm not eight years old, but I found these (and the other questionably macabre) advertisemens to be a bit unnecessary. I could sense thousands of overprotective parents of small children staring, outraged at these commercials, and it was disconcerting. I guess the years of the Coca-Cola-Kid-Mean-Joe-Green-like exchanges in commercials are over, and pure sensuality is here to say.

Another Super Bowl-related revelation, what I am about to say will probably shock you, dear readers. I belive that Janet Jackson's right breast saved the institution of the Super Bowl Halftime Show from utter creative squalor. After the Wardrobe Malfunction, the people who organize the Halftime Show decided that recent "artists" (not necessarily musicians, remember) should not be trusted to give a properly entertaining show. As a result, we are allowed to hear actual music during Halftime of the Super Bowl. I (and most other sensible viewers) have enjoyed the Rolling Stones and Prince as the las couple Halftime Show acts. Just think, if it weren't for that bit of "accidental" exhibitionism, we would have had to suffer through a Halftime Show involving, the Pussycat Dolls, the Black Eyed Peas, and Panic! At The Disco.

Phew!

Tonight's lyrical selection:

Phil Ochs, "When I'm Gone" (I'm not depressed; it's just a neat song), last three verses:

"Won't see the golden of the sun when I'm gone,
And the evenings and the mornings will be one when I'm gone,
Can't be singing louder than the guns when I'm gone,
So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here.

All my days won't be dances of delight when I'm gone,
And the sands will be shifting from my sight when I'm gone,
Can't add my name into the fight while I'm gone,
So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here.

And I won't be laughing at the lies when I'm gone,
And I can't question how or when or why when I'm gone,
Can't live proud enough to die when I'm gone,
So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here."