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War All The Time
|An Open Letter To John O.
|John O is the lead singer of the band The Maine. He is also a terrible writer. Lately he has been receiving a particularly large amount of attention (unfortunately) for the blogs he writes on Myspace. What are these blogs about, you might ask? That's a good question.|
These adventures into the mind of John are pointless. He desperately attempts to sound profound or enlightened, but his words are nothing more than out of context one liners and an occasional stolen song lyric.
Do your fans even know who Midtown is, John? Do they know your words aren't even your words?
You say you don't write for the intention of responses, but you end with telling your fans you really enjoy hearing what they have to say. There is no personal meaning to this piece. You have clearly written this mess because you are an enormous attention whore. I doubt you have a fancy private journal full of deep thoughts and contemplations. You are using the internet as an outlet to stroke your own ego and to attempt to justify yourself as somebody significant
You are not.
Look at your musical influences. Death Cab For Cutie, Ryan Adams, Third Eye Blind, Counting Crows. Isn't an influence supposed to act as an inspiration and set a level of which we would like to attain? What do you think Ben Gibbard or Adam Duritz would think of your ramblings? Do you think they would take something away from your writing, or that they would feel something profound? Are you really okay with being nothing but an empty idol to 15 year old girls?
You probably are, and that's the sad part.
I'd also like to mention that once when John posted one of these blogs and was met with some harsh criticism, he took the blog down and said it was just a work in progress or some shit like that. Really John? Not only was it horrible in the first place, but you didn't even have the balls to stand up for what you were writing? Where's the integrity in that? You would think that after dealing with the criticism for your awful band you would be able to cope with what people on the internet have to say about your personal writing. I guess it's easier to hide behind your bandmates and the image you project. As an individual you just couldn't handle it. Fucking weak.
The worst part of this poetic fuckfest is the legion of followers who are eating up every contrived word.
"I look forward to reading what you say."
"You are such an inspiration."
"Your blogs always make me think about things."
Unbelievable. There is no way these kids actually gain anything from this, or are inspired, or are compelled to think deep, provocative thoughts. There is just no way. Why not? Because there wasn't anything there in the first place. The fact that John O is considered an insiprational writer in the first place is a joke. What happened to people respecting truly talented writers? These kids look at AP English assignments as a chore and instead gravitate to drivel like this.
To think that people such as Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Whitman, Eliot, and other writers of that caliber have been disregarded in favor of abortions such as this, is another horrifying example of the intellectual decay of our society.
I would call this a post modern pile of shit, but in my experience, most post modern work, as abstract and absurd as it can be, has more depth and purpose than what Mr. O decides to share with us.
Give it up. You've done a mighty fine job of whoring yourself to the consumer crazed teenage demographic, but beyond that you and your writing is absolutely insignificant.
|Tags: journal, blog, rant, shitty writers
|I was trying to find a way to express a thought that's been in my head for awhile, but I couldn't think of a way to get it out without sounding like a huge asshole (which I can sometimes be). So, instead:|
1. People should stop trying so hard to get noticed/make others think they are important and or cool and or interesting. Chances are if people don't notice you in the first place and you have to go out of your way to attract said attention, you don't deserve it to begin with. Stop.
2. What the fuck ever happened to sincerity? God damn. Do something because really you want to. Because you fucking feel it. People are so desperate to be wanted and loved and needed these days it is incredible. I am tired of seeing selfish attention whores compromise what little artistic integrity is left in the world.
How come it is so important to have the validation and approval of people who have empty heads and absolutely no impact on your life? God, who cares.
I swear I felt something crawling on me in bed.
I will sleep on the couch.
|Tags: journal, blog, personal, rant, people are fucking dumb