It's killing me to hear all of the talking points and initiatives coming from the different TV spots new presidential contenders try to snag as they dance around.
What made me stop watching The Daily Show, sped up to twice the speed, with Kamala Harris as the guest, was a kind of “nexus feeling” regarding how slow it seems for even remotely reasonable things to ever boil up into the “modern consciousness.” Part of me feels like I've been hearing some version of the things these people have been saying since I was still in college. In 10 years, I'm watching basically the same interview, the same lack of added insight or capabilities, and the same smile and handshake and everyone self-congratulates that they finally decided to get “woke” after screaming and spitting fascism dared to tear it all down from the inside.
I was 16 days too late in sharing my “unpopular opinion” on reddit that Trevor Noah wasn't funny. It was massively upvoted. He's something of a poster child for new wokeness and representation. Of course, I'm in no way against people representing. The media landscape is incredibly varied and shifting. There's always something else I can watch if I'm unable to tuck my memories of Jon Stewart away, or even long for the kind of field pieces and wit that made me enjoy every correspondent in a way I'm unable to with the current lot. The point has so little to do with my estimation of “funniness” though.
“Woke” is not a perspective. Woke is a catch-phrase and reaction. Woke is a brand. Woke is having the script and imposed expectation that flies in the face of pre-perceived prejudice and of all reason or counter-argument. Therefore, as “noble” as you may think you're behaving, appointing someone to a position they can't fill because they're “different,” is not only it's own kind of disingenuous racism, but an abdication of responsibility and truth. Would Jordan Klepper have done it better? Are “these times” bothering to ask that question at all?
I'm tired in a new way. I'm tired of “advocacy” without evidence. It's so easy to talk. If I'm proof of anything, it's that I can endlessly talk, and for any one or two lines that may stick, the rest is the noisy fluff or incoherent and poorly phrased babble that arbitrarily decided to settle on something that makes sense occasionally. It's why I always return to what I've done or accomplished “lately.” Did I put my money where my mouth was? Are my itches left unscratched staring down my looming nails?
And in that regard, I understand pocking the cultural landscape with more and more representations. I understand trying to “normalize,” that which is more inclusive, understanding, and speaking towards long-term health and growth. To that end, one “failed” show by my limited opinion at least isn't causing undue harm. I can't help but to imagine the underlying mechanism keeping it in motion. What's the psychological underpinning making certain artists popular or shows start to trend?
Ridiculous and amateur as it is, in the pursuit of trying to keep a finger on a presumed pulse, I have no opinion on what college kids are doing or saying until that, also sped up, episode of “grown-ish” tells me “I even sank to facebook...” Facebook is where I go to get likes from the last 5 people who will bother to talk to me! But the monolith entity poisoning our news landscape and playground for “Russian trolls,” is the oft-discussed bane of existing coherently. The kids aren't having it, but enough moms, dads, and grandparents are.
There's surely always been a divide in the ideals of different eras, and now it's just all on display. It's hard to imagine being indoctrinated by FOX, but that shit is happening in a big way. It's hard to think that most of your life might be communicated through pictures and emojis, but apparently that's a bus that's forever left my station. I do feel like something of a “lost generation” type in that, I'm nowhere near social media ignorant, but I'm old enough to not give a shit and feel it lacking.
I once complained in a blog about not finding something “authentic” in the world of insta-fame and endless options. I hope to address that in what I can cultivate on the land. Grassroots and DIY can start anywhere, and there is no sense in romanticizing the past. I'm probably just overloaded with media in general. It's the largest portion of my world. I get the occasional time spent with a friend I haven't seen in a while. I sometimes have more than a 2 minute conversation with someone at work. I get the dressed-up lies and pleasantries from clients. The phony “we're winning, we're talking about the important things in a real way!” TV shtick is feeling all the more grating.
I barely see things I want to be a part of. Dance class is helping me get more flexible. The community band is way more about inclusiveness than growth and high expectations. The Green New Deal is wonderful in conception and spirit conjuring, though I struggle to think we're competent enough to do what needs to be done. What else is new there, but show, don't tell. I don't want to play basketball with co-workers. I don't want to pretend to workout at lunch with co-workers. I don't want to hit on lonely co-workers. I don't want to be out partying with college kids. I don't want to help the fruit-loopy hippies in their garden. I don't want to volunteer. I barely want to even go outside and see bands or performers I admire because I bet the money spent would feel considerably better if it went to building my garage or driveway than the memory of having someone I'm familiar with exist in my presence for an hour or two. It's not like I'll be going to the show with anyone. It's not like shared memories for the sake of them are really my game anymore.
I was contacted at 11:00pm on Thursday by a rich out-of-state, maybe country, student acquaintance asking me if I wanted to hang out that night or the day after. I said Friday would be best. I texted him after work if he still wanted to roll to let me know. He said he'd get back to me. He didn't. I was a brain-fart call in a likely-drunken stupor in the mind of a nice-enough guy I've drank with a few times. That's as on the nose as I could possibly describe where I likely exist in the minds of most people. I'm telling you, after the divorces, disconcerting weight gain, or survived terrible medical condition, I'm going to spring forth in the minds of the people from my past. I don't know what triggered my young acquaintance, but I bet a mild disillusionment washed over him in something they said. Or maybe I just wish that's the case so I can be right about the hole I occupy when the facade breaks down. We've all got to fit in somewhere.
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