*An excerpt from my mind circa Spring 2004ish (I think) and in honor of Chuck Klosterman coming to the ICPL tomorrow!!!
Yesterday started as a fucking fantastic day. I got my SPIN in the mail (which is always thrilling) laughed my ass off, thoroughly enjoyed myself, decided I was gonna marry Chuck Klosterman (so I could be his problematic bitch) and Morrissey was on the cover. The universe was at peace. Then I went to work and things went completely to shit, surprise, surprise.
Like I said before I’m an asshole, but unlike a lot of pricks I take full responsibility for my stupid, asshole actions and subsequent failures. Maybe too much (I can be brutal on myself), though I’m pretty sure I deserve it. Yeah I do. We reap what we sow, and the hardest lesson to learn is to take your lumps and repent, trying to forgive yourself all the while.
I’m such a fucking fool and contradiction. I have a hard time forgiving people, and an even harder time forgiving myself, yet I expect other people to forgive me. I just don’t know what to do with myself. Fuck it. It’s nothing a new album won’t cure. (And I just went and bought five at CDGB’s which included acquiring that perfect song from the other day.)
The universe is back at peace. If only for my manic mood swings and confusion over love. Though, now that I think about it, maybe I don’t want to marry Chuck Klosterman after all. I’ve never been a member of the KISS Army (nor have I ever particularly cared for them) and that might be a source of contention. (I’m looking to and preparing for whatever may come in all future relationships with rock writers that I have never met.) Maybe I really should just meet him first. Yeah, that sounds good.
Anyway, back to the thrill of a new issue of SPIN. SPIN totally fucking rocks. And I love it, I absolutely fucking love SPIN. When my new issue arrives I get beyond excited. It makes my day.
I’m always happy to get my latest Blender (which has lots of tidbits, and a few too many tits, since you know, I’m not a lesbian, but whatever.) and a little less happy to get my Rolling Stone. It has nothing to do with not liking Rolling Stone and everything to do with perpetually being disappointed by it. SPIN rarely disappoints (however I sometimes do question what the fuck it is exactly that they’re smoking that makes them think Dashboard Confessional deserves to be on the cover yet again.)
I cannot stress enough my love for SPIN. Several covers have come and gone since the universe was at peace, but I wasn’t. Hell, even Karen O graced the cover, I’ve gotten over my once all consuming guilt, and yeah things are lookin’ good. I got another SPIN in the mail today, flipped through it, and then savored it. But a thought occurred to me the other day when my newest Rolling Stone arrived. It’s a fuckin’ disappointment. I am I really supposed to take them and their articles seriously when they have some stupid fucking pop tart on the cover? Or some other equally vacant celebrity? Am I supposed to take what they have to say about the state of national affairs or anything else for that matter as truth when they themselves can’t take music seriously, or at least put an actual musician on the cover? Yeah, the premiere music magazine- the final say in what rocks and what doesn’t, can’t even put an actual songwriter or musician on the cover half of the time (I will admit I love Angelina Jolie and Quentin Tarantino etc., so those covers are never a waste in my eyes. Especially since the Rolling Stone interview is still the interview. But shouldn’t they stick to music? I’m just asking)
Maybe I should just shut the fuck up, since pretty much the only thing I read, and one of the reasons my subscription is good for another five years is Peter Travers’ movie reviews. I absolutely love him. He is hands down the only person whose recommendation I will actually take. I used to really enjoy Rob Sheffield’s “POP EYE”, but I’ve got Chuck Klosterman’s “rant and roll over: pop culture musing and abusing”. And I prefer Chuck, but that could just be because Rob’s eye has been missing for a couple of years now. My point is I no longer understand Rolling Stone. What type of periodical is it? I apparently, stupidly thought it was supposed to be a music mag, but the constant barrage of shit on the cover tells me otherwise. So um yeah, uh my mistake. That said, they still have the quintessential interview. The Rolling Stone fucking interview. We’ve all fantasized about that one and for what? I gotta admit- I get my Rolling Stone, flip through it and discard it (though save it). Yeah, they’ve had some really great shit, a lot of which I looked up again for this book, but the vast amount of pages needed to sift through to find something worthwhile is amazing; whereas SPIN, even though I may not read everything,or even the cover, never fails to deliver. Blender does too (although I am sick of that stupid bitch (guess) they keep putting on the cover) ‘cause, yeah they’re a little too swayed by a glimpse of tits and ass, but other than that, they’re cool. **(not yet finished, obviously)
Today, November 8th, 2011:
**notice the note I left for myself in parentheses- like somehow, I’d be given an opportunity to publish this without editing or proofreading it first, and I’d somehow miss that this entire chapter is incomplete (and shitty- actually, if not for the whole Chuck Klosterman reference/homage/desire to be his problematic bitch, I would never have published this, let alone used it as a starting point). Then again, I’m about to post it for the world to see, so maybe I had a point seven years ago…
So yeah, not my best work, by any means (thank god), but nevertheless a glimpse into my mind as a twenty year old. Kinda fascinating. And horrifying. Thankfully it’s over.