I’m kind of sick of rip offs. Or followers. It wasn’t that long ago that following got you nowhere. Now you’re expected to do it to get anywhere.
As a musician you have to sound like everyone else in order to sell albums, or digital downloads, whatever. In movies, there’s a theme now that you have to not act your way to success. I enjoy their movies, but Seth Rogen and company, everybody who are typically in his movies, are all the same person in every movie they do. And that person? Themselves. Acting in movies now means you get in front of a camera and say your lines. They’re not the only ones.
The point here is, I’m sick of it. There’s not a lot of originality going on anymore. Why is that? Have we run out of originality? Hollywood has, as they reboot and sequel every movie that has come out in the last 30 years instead of putting out very many new ideas.
To give you a quick example of something I’ve been seeing a lot of lately, first I want you to take a look at the source material.
You don’t have to be a fan to know who AC/DC is. They’ve been around for 40 years this year and they’re one of the highest selling bands of all time. Never mind that almost everybody around the world has heard at least one of their songs. So sure, why not rip them off?
Do you know what the problem with this country is? It’s our infatuation with celebrities. I’ve mentioned time and time again how much I can’t stand the desire to know everything about a celebrity’s personal life. And those who thrive on it are the ruination of our country. I’m sure this problem is global, but fuck the rest of the world, I live here, in the good ol’ United States of Asshats.
I just found out, by happenstance, that the queen of celebrities, the woman everybody just can’t get enough of, Kim Kardashian, is putting out a picture book of her selfies, aptly titled Selfish.
I can think of many other appropriate names for it. Like Shitty, Worthless, Go Spend Your Money On Something Else Like A Charity, You’ll Get More Satisfaction If You Just Set Your Money On Fire Unless You Plan On Setting This Book On Fire, Pictures Of A Stupid Whore, The Place Where Kanye Keeps His Dick At Night…
Ok, so I lied to you. And for that, I’m sorry. More importantly, I lied to myself, and for that I am also sorry.
I told you that I’ve been off of my depression meds for a long time and I’m happy because I don’t need them and I can live happily without them. Well, I can’t.
You see, I have anger towards many things. You can read all about a lot of them right here on this blog. I hate that I have that anger. See? My anger is even directed towards that anger. It knows no bounds.
I have anger for everything, but it was one thing in particular that started me on my path back to the medication. That one thing is grammar. I’m not perfect with words and spelling, but I do my best. But if “grammar nazi” is a real thing, I’m most certainly one. I take the time to proofread things before I post them. Again, not perfect, but at least I give it an effort. And sometimes it pisses me off to no end that a lot of people don’t even give it that. They don’t even bother with a two second proofread to make sure they said “of” instead of “if.” Because of that, I quite often call people out on their shitty grammar. My wife’s family is no exception, especially her cousin. Because I like to give her shit, and she knows it. However…
I started writing this in January, and put it on the back burner because, while I originally read the article I link to coming up shortly I thought of a few points to add that the article didn’t touch on. Then I started writing this and forgot all of them, so I thought I’d hold out until they all came back to me. That never happened. And then, sadly, Robin Williams killed himself yesterday because of depression, and thus I thought to look this up and give it another go. So here it is, half a year later. Which isn’t so bad, because I’ve got some drafts from a century ago that will probably never get posted.
I just read an article on Cracked (literally just read it, and came here to write this) called 5 Facts Everyone Gets Wrong About Depression and thought it was not only an excellent read as far as entertainment is concerned, but it hit the nail on the head as far as depression is concerned. That Mark Hill knows his shit. Sadly, because that means he’s depressed, or at the very least used to be. Except in the article I think he mentions he still is, so, still sad.
His article is right, down to the last word, which happens to be “crap.” I just thought I’d throw out some crap you might not know about me and depression, to piggy back off of what he said.
For starters, I’ve been depressed most of my life, except I didn’t know it in the beginning. Now I know what mine stems from, mostly. Mine comes from an average shitty upbringing. It wasn’t exceptionally bad, but it wasn’t great either. It wasn’t something huge, it was just a long string of small stuff that kept eating away at me like tooth fairies on enamel in the Hellboy world. There comes a point in time when you give up on trying and you just succumb to the depression that you might not even know you’re succumbing to.
They’re just so damn cute though!