A quest to make sense of it all. Or a sense to make a quest of it all.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Why is John Mayer being called a racist? And why does anyone care? Sometimes I get so sick of all this shallow celebrity nonsense, all the ads and the glitter, the insistence that these people are somehow worth more than anyone else, I just wanna pack it up and move to the mountains. In my Uggs and my Wayfarer sunglasses and my knockoff True Religions, listening to my iPod and missing the internet. Heh. Guess I'm just as glossy as the rest of it.

No, no, that's not true. And I'll defend myself, here. The Uggs were a gift. I love them and they keep my feet cozy and I think they'll last a long time. The knockoff jeans make my tail look passable as my body reshapes itself. My iPod is necessary for my survival, as I will shrivel up and die a horrible death without my music. The internet...well, I could live without. It would mightily suck at first, but I could do it. Really, the only thing I feel a little residual guilt over is the Wayfarers. It's utterly ridiculous to spend more than $5 on sunglasses...but, oooh, they're so dark and sleek and that Buddy Holly frame just rocks for this Parson facial structure. They make me feel hip and knowledgable, and they do a damn fine job of blocking out the blinding rays I encounter when heading east on 72 at 7 a.m.

Why the need to impress? Why at all? Got me. But its inescapable and everyone succumbs to it.

Ok, I just got distracted by exciting news about Corinthian history and I have to chew on that for awhile. I'll come back to this later.

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