Statusinterruptus

What what?  Social media now runs the planet. It was a great idea at its conception; a rigid and abstract sphere of primal intent proliferating its conceit on an unsuspecting yet hungry vortex of fertile oblivion. Fuckin’ A someone’s O.D.ing in symbolism and sexual innuendo today. Take it down a notch, #bro.  Social media  began as a way for humans to connect, whether with long-lost high school friends or tonight’s potential #poundpal. But eventually someone said: Hmm, we gotta make some scratch on this otherwise we’re wasting our time in a hyper-virtual cyclone of edge play sans happy ending. This moment, like the first time an honest small town politician gets bought his first beer by a special interest handshake, was the beginning of the end of the beginning of the bastardization of social media. Like most conceptions, the end result is a money making machine of #basicness. Are you still with me, Lola?

So… Paul Ryan’s selfie with all his white interns versus a more democratic pic filled with all colours; the only two things both pics have in common is youthful smiles looking towards the bright future of opportunity. No minorities. No limits. Just interns and student debt. Yes we can, yes we will, hashtag #fuckyeah. This got me going, a little, not really, but enough to write all this down for my own egotistical reasons. I don’t care about how many white people are in the G.O.P. I would assume that the majority of these kinds of people still have a 1950’s mentality of <wink wink> meritocracy based on whatever achievements they are told they have coming to them. I understand why the self-appraised outsiders get so bent by the rich white privilege thing, it is kind of unfair, but dare I say: why do you give a fuck???  A great thing about being an outsider is the freedom to make your own kind of music. That’s right, I used a 60’s reference. Not all 60’s idealism is that ridiculous. Some of it’s swayable to popular culture no matter what the generation. I would ask any color millennial what they think of the Paul Ryan white intern selfie and likely get a variation of the same answer: segregation is wrong. Even though EVERYONE segregates themselves; in cliques, posse’s, coffee houses, opposite ends of airplanes and sports arenas.  YOU go over here, THEY go over there. “I” just go.  “I” know what to expect at this point. “I” remember being 21 and mixing fear of the unknown with the bravado of youthful non-cautious optimism. So, the only real antidote for youthful delusion is time. Time takes time. I don’t have the time. New Yorker = Late for everything. Segregation is wrong. So are #manbuns. Yet they still permeate the adolescent culture of clicks and likes and follows, the new currency of unimportant global influence.  It’s ridiculous to expect the world to change to fit one’s personal outlook on what’s right and wrong. The 2016 election is a reality show, and not a good one like Mob Wives, but a bad one like anything other than Mob Wives. Stick to the credo, girls. Respect doesn’t seem to exist much anymore. Racial tensions are higher than ever. Passports to Canada and gun sales on the rise. It’s my right!  Sure it is. You go girl.  Go fuck yourself. Yes we can? No you won’t.

P.S. I’m glad I’m old. Death becomes the future. Hashtag #liveforthemoment.

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