Sunday, July 15, 2012

this is a public service announcement…

…with vitriol

Suburban kid, you got no name
Too dumb, baby and you got no brain
I bet you're all so happy in suburbian dreams
But I'm only laughin' 'cause you ain't in my scheme


the bastard has been logging alot of time with his new favorite piece of the virus we all know as instagram.

and with it, he's been taking some dope assed photos of shit he's seen around the way.

its sort or like Facebook but the difference is he doesn't get invitations to play fucking farmville. the downside is this,

everyone thinks every random pic they slap a lomography frame on is art.

it isn't.

and photo of you and your friends making duck faces at a pool party with a holgaesque frame is not art.

it's stupid.

perhaps this is what is wrong with social media. I'm speaking specifically of teenagers and perhaps people my age who act like teenagers. which brings me to another aspect of social media. twitter

the bastard does this as well. 120 characters and you get your point in ASCII. but this isn't enough.

so we have tweegram.

the kids today use the tweegram to quote shit they finds meaningful about relationship empowerment because as we all know, teenagers know so much more about life than us old folks.

...cue bastard's family reading this… spitting contents of mouth onto screen… screaming to spouse for a paper towel… cleaning it up… then upon composure… laughing collective asses off over their son, nephew, rat bastard that they had I keep an eye on growing up's assertion that these kids today just don't know about the jazz...

but I digress, tweegram is a means to use shit typefaces and shit typesetting to make your quote from a judy blume novel look more designful to your other artistically untalented friends.

and let me make this plain…

you are not designful and your friends are untalented.

let me be frank, I haven't seen a talented 16 year old since pat walsh showed me he could sight read the entire misfits, replacements, and dag nasty catalog on guitar so the bastard pulls no punches in making this assertion.

and it's not to say that one day my cousin and her friends won't be talented at something one day but it's shit like this that hobbles one's step forward into the arts because you think this shit is art.

if you want to make art… make fucking art. the tools are out there at your disposal.

if you are hurting inside and you lack the poetry to express it… look deep and find that shit. drink some whiskey if you have to.

but for fuck's sake, stop polluting my instagram with your shit photos and start paying attention to MY shit photos.

—the bastard

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