I DON'T CARE Options

[dimenno]

I DON'T CARE. 1. I don't care about graphic novels filled with fake manga. Learn how to draw! Or about any story with vampires or zombies. Learn how to write! Or about obsessive naval-gazing of any sort. Learn how to tell a story!

I DON'T CARE. 2. I don't care about your second-hand political opinions. Is it really so hard to think for yourself? Or to think at all?

I DON'T CARE. 3. You got drunk last night. Good for you. You poisoned yourself. Again. Bravo! Nobody has ever poisoned themselves quite as well as you managed to do it. You must be a big man. If they gave a Nobel prize for auto-intoxication, you'd be the front runner. You can really hold your liquor. You are a sterling example to all the aspiring youth who also wish to poison themselves. You smell like french fries, cheap cologne, and death. No, I can't lend you twenty dollars.

I DON'T CARE. 4. Self-appointed experts are a dime a dozen. Learn how to swim before you call yourself a lifeguard.

I DON'T CARE. 5. I have been given to understand that an idiotic sitcom was a formative influence on your intellectual development. A mass-produced shadow show geared to the lowest common denominator still has a profound influence over your thinking. Feel free to talk about it incessantly. Write articles divulging your fascination with every detail of the ephemeral trash you dote upon. But don't expect me to care.

I DON'T CARE. 6. I don't care about your derivative artwork, home movie, music, or fiction. Don't expect me to praise your feeble attempts at creativity generated second-hand from swipe files, stock footage, stolen hooks and borrowed genre conventions. My life is too short to concern myself with your pathetically weak attempts to copy others.

I DON'T CARE. 7. I don't care about your top ten lists of the Best Ever anything. They are seldom about anything even remotely edifying. They are usually about mass-produced shit. "Sir, there is no settling the point of precedency between a louse and a flea." That is essentially why I just don't care.

I DON'T CARE. 8. I've been thinking. I know that nothing good ever came from that. But it's not a problem until I start typing. And you start trying to read.


This post has been edited by dimenno: Jul 17 2012, 02:40 PM

[dimenno]

I DON'T CARE. 9. I don't care about advertising. It is a vampire art. False propaganda in the service of purblind consumption. Distorted dream images in the service of sly perversions. People are starving all over the world. I don't care about them, either, but somebody should. Instead, we accept an obscene spectacle of greed and glorify it.

I DON'T CARE. 10. I don't care about Hollywood. It is the bonfire of the inanities. Its scriptwriters knock twenty I.Q. point off of every script they touch. And sometimes forty points. Its films are socially acceptable nonsense shamefully disguised. Above its fabled sign should be written the words "Abandon Thought, All Ye Who Enter here."

I DON'T CARE. 11. I don't care about your propaganda. Any of it. In any form or format. All of it sickens me. These works of faction are always in the service of the status quo. Propaganda is the evil opposite of reason. It is meme warfare that drops logic bombs on the field of discourse and leaves only a vast wasteland. It promotes beautiful stereotypes for fallen apes. It is tyranny in its purest modern form, a fount of useful disinformation. It employs weapons of mass distraction. It is black information; the apotheosis of ugliness; a magnet for scoundrels and fools. The fact wranglers and elite content providers who perpetrate it ought to be regarded as spoiled priests in the service of a psychic enemies network.

I DON'T CARE. 12. I don't care about political conventions. They are covered in the media with all the reverence of a horse race featuring doped horses and crooked jockeys. Its candidates are designer myths. They feature spin master generals strutting and fretting in a geography of quagmire. These ghoulish conclaves are a show of farce; an American travesty. Yet every four years the powers that be prepare once more to call forth the ringmasters and strike up the bland.

I DON'T CARE. 13. I don't see the point of Fundamentalism. I don’t much care about mystical claptrap and magical thinking first invented by superstitious cavemen to foil the demon-haunted darkness. My dead dog is not in heaven or hell or anywhere else but six feet under; the mewing ghost of my dead kitten does not talk to God. I don't care for gibbering preachments masquerading as deep thought. Th...e frightened hooting and jabbering of proto-hominids brandishing sharpened sticks at solar eclipses portends no vasty insights. The ancient, kaleidoscopic delusions of incoherent savages do not impress me one iota. And so the modern-day hermeneutic hoochy-koo and end-times babbling of slack-jawed jackleg bumpkins is no concern of mine. I don't live my life based upon the fiction of what a hallucinating nomad would suppositiously do if magically transported 2000 years into a future filled with rocket sleds and naugahyde. Me no ignorant. I need evidence. I don't need conjectures, theories, or spurious conclusions based on counterfeit evidence. The appeal to faith is a circular argument. It’s all a part of God’s plan? The reason is...because? Not good enough, Hiram. Your conspicuous presumptions are odious. You biblically-based principles are often simply preposterous. Please go and hector somebody else with them. My advice? Somebody who flunked Logic 101. Better still: Go to a place far, far away from here—preferably, off-planet-- and endlessly scream the name of your imaginary hobo deity to the indifferent stars.

I DON'T CARE. 14. I trust the evidence of my senses. And that is why I do not go in for the goofy preachments of that humorless ratchet-jawed witch known as Ayn Rand. Her hideous chimp objectivism leaves me cold; it is merely a code word for consecrated grabbiness. It is the box-cutter morality of a newly-hatched chick. Message: Cram my gaping beak with squirming grub. Her garbled novels and vile..., hypocritical maxims are the ravings of a disappointed automaton with an amputated imagination; a mechanical imitation of conventional thought. Her deeply flawed Bizarro Solipsism smells like a carny swindle and it belongs in the dustbin of history, along with Dianetics, Three-card Monte, and phrenology. It's chump fodder, plain and simple. Go sell it to the zombies.


I DON'T CARE. 15. Social media? Really? Then look upon these works, ye mighty, and despair. Social Media is rapidly becoming a breeding ground for one-horse demagogues; a sociopathic soapbox for soi-disant polymathic generalizers; a bottomless moronic Sargasso of cultural rubbish; an electrifying mixture of malice and cupidity; a cathedral of erotic misery; a vicarious peep show of vicious celebrities and rhetorical demon-slayers who proudly fawn upon the In Crowd and sedulously assassinate the villain du jour with hackneyed phrases. However, I suppose that it does serve a useful purpose. Now that public hangings are no longer de rigueur I suppose the unqualified experts of the apocalyptic zeitgeist with a relish for Armageddon must have a soothing outlet to tamp down those vexing inside voices telling them to kill and kill again.

I DON'T CARE. 16. I don't care about your infantile obsession with celebrities. Don't bother telling me how much you admire people you don't know, people you never will know, and people who do not know you and will never want to know you. At best, your obsessive celebrity fixations are an unsuccessful simulation of unironic enjoyment. I'm sick of reading about interminable controversies regarding minor semi-entities. Try spending your lonely hours talking about real people whom you actually know and love--if there are any.

I DON'T CARE. 17. Unless you are Proust or someone like him, I don't care about your fond but inaccurate remembrances of things past or your endlessly regurgitated fables about the good old days. Please--just for once--drop the nostalgia and slowly back away. Spare me your chronicles of Tragic Eden and your lurid tales about the Happy Valley Ghetto. Don't you know that virtually everybody on earth despises your highly sanitized unsolicited testimonials to an old, dead world? Your stories are rehearsals for cremation. Gear up to the now. It's what's happenin' Baby; it's where it's at, Daddy. You want something to remember? Remember this: There's nothing sadder than a superannuated raconteur.

I DON’T CARE. 18. I implicitly believe in all conspiracy internet rhetoric, particularly if it is posted by a person with a name like Zeke, Jasper , or Cooter, and especially if it offers up unverified claims by unnamed government sources. I implicitly believe it is fiction. And I don’t care. Even if it turns out to be true. It changes nothing. People will talk. Let them talk. It’s all they’re good for, and they probably have nothing better to do.

I DON’T CARE. 19. The relentless expanse of minimalism. Bothers me. Wordless books. Featureless vistas. Where will it all e--

[FrankD]

everyone wrote a punk song with that title, someday i'll find mine

[dimenno]

I DON'T CARE. 20. You have an opinion about a late-breaking news item. One in a concatenation of roughly one million massacres which take place yearly. You, and 800,000,000 other people have an opinion. 999,999 times in 1,000,000, it is the precise same opinion as everybody else has. Why are you not able to offer an original opinion? Why do you have to ceaselessly chirp and chatter like a cage full of frightened birds trapped in a juddering Subaru Forester with a defective fan belt? Endless blather ensues. "People like that should be killed." Or, "Now everybody is going to have to be extra careful." Or, "What is this crazy world coming to?" You know what? I DON'T CARE. Your insipid opinions do not demand attention. Your knee-jerk responses confirm the mediocrity of your media-saturated consciousness. Let us instead all mourn for all those headless John Does and Jane Does who have predeceased us. Let us instead all murmur benedictions which will usher their souls to paradise. But let us do it in respectful silence, and honor the dignity of those who have perished.

[dimenno]

I DON'T CARE. 21. Since when has it become normative to be at the beck and call of every freak who has my phone number, at any hour of the day or night? If I don't answer you within nanoseconds of your faux-urgent communique, it's for a very important reason: I am busily engaged in human pursuits and do not choose to drop what I happen to be doing like a hot potato to answer the shrill summons of a mindless machine with an inappropriately impatient adjunct at the other end. In the future, and for the posterity of unborn generations cascading endlessly forward, please note, observe, mark carefully, and recognize this basic fact.

I DON'T CARE. 22. I don't care about the writing bêtes noires of you or anybody else. A comprehensive knowledge of the rules of grammar is obviously important. But an obsessive need to always push your own favorite rules--about passive constructions, or rhetorical questions, or split infinitives--and to judge others on the basis of a rigid, gridlike adherence to same--is an unfailing sign of your own insecurity and lack of originality or talent. They are ultimately a screaming red neon sign which points to your inability to think for yourself.

[dimenno]

I DON'T CARE. 23. I don't care about the Who. Not anymore. Not for years. There is something terribly vulgar and unsubtle about Peter Townshend's songs which is enough to make grown adults wince at the thought of once having admired them. But SELL OUT is a certified hoot; parts of TOMMY and QUADROPHENIA still hold up; Entwhistles's "Had Enough" from WHO ARE YOU now seems eerily prescient. Sadly, a good deal of the rest of their output is so damn earnest and psuedo-profound (always excepting Entwhistle's work) that nowadays it makes me cringe. Knowing what we do about Townshend, a great many of his songs now read like a plea for understanding and/or a cry for help.

[Mister Shhh]

What if uh C-A-T really spelled dog?

[FrankD]

I DON'T CARE. 7. I don't care about your top ten lists of the Best Ever anything

[dimenno]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fmhoSUQdPiE

[dimenno]

I DON'T CARE. 24. I don't care about anything that Donald Trump says or does. Why should I? He's a freak. His hair resembles cotton candy spun from dried snot.