Wednesday, March 04, 2009

In A Way, I Feel You; In Another Way, Fuck Off

If It Feels Good Do It is a song by Sloan, a group of four white guys from Halifax, Nova Scotia. Some sample lyrics:

If it feels good do it
Even if you shouldn’t
Don’t let people mess you around


Gangsta Gangsta is a song by NWA, a group of four black guys out of Los Angeles, California. Some sample lyrics:

‘Cause I’m the type of nigga that’s built to last
If ya fuck with me I’ll put a foot on yo ass
See I don’t give a fuck ‘cause I keep bailin’
Yo, what the fuck are they sayin’?


Now, all things being equal, which group do you suppose a 30-something white guy would sport on a header atop a blog titled “If It Feels Good Do It”?

Mm-hmm.

Ian Bowman: unless you are straight outta Compton, or a crazy motherfucker named Ice Cube, I’m going to suggest, directly off the top, without reading a single post, that you change your header – not because there’s anything inherently wrong with a white guy listening to 80s-style gangsta-rap, but because it doesn’t make a lick of sense, and even less so after reading your blog. As a man who knows a thing or two about not making sense, believe me when I tell you that there is a bleak, yawning chasm between “dude, you crazy” and “what?”

Sometimes “what?” works; other times it’s like choking a plastic doll with a knife between your teeth while standing in front of a ferris-wheel: nonsense for the sake of nonsense.

Here’s the thing: your first post was great. Truly. You’ve got this straight-ahead style of writing that reeks of sly humour and self-awareness, and this post showed that you could make something out of nothing, and that’s talent. So, what happened? You thought it a better use of skills to write umpteen-Burning Man posts? You got drunk, you got high, it was rad. Right, got it. Who gives a fuck?

[shrug]

Reading your blog is like enduring a tale of self-actualization gone awry. At some point, you stopped trying to entertain and started trying to impress, and tearing up the crowd at karaoke by killing I Started A Joke with a devastating falsetto isn’t the same as belting out Creed songs as if they had meaning. Stop pretending you’re Scott Stapp and get on with it.

Look, Bowman, I understand: I’ve written more than my fair share of self-congratulatory tripe, and I’ve alienated scores of readers with my unapologetic braggadocio. I, however, have not vlogged shirtless, nor have I related text-messages of people wanting to fuck me; why would I? I assume my fuckability is self-evident from what I write alone, and it’s unfortunate that you and I differ in our respective beliefs in that regard.

When you actually write, it’s good, for the most part; when you indulge in what my old writing teacher called “navel-gazing”, it’s an atrocity of masturbatory bullshit, and really, really, incredibly annoying. There’s tongue in cheek, and then there’s taking a picture of your tongue to put it online in the hope that someone will see it and think it’s hot; there’s funny narcissism and pointless narcissism, and far too often it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself that you’re worthy of either.

You have “absolutely no long-term goals whatsoever”? Fair enough. How about, in the short-term, you put a little more effort into this thing - it could be better, and absolutely, positively should be better than it is.



It's a moose - love it.

61 comments:

  1. Oh, Jubblies. I've missed you so. And I've missed your incomparable reviews. Ah, "self-congratulatory tripe" I know you well.

    I did enjoy the burning man stuff, though, because in another life I might have been a drug-addled hippy with her own set of bongos and a crystal garden.

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  2. I didn't mean to necessarily pick on Burning Man; it was more the gradual switch from "software engineer with a possibly-ironic outlook" to "dude, I'm so waaaaasted and this chick just, like, asked me out or whatever" that I was irritated with.

    Also, mwah.

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  3. I've always thought that your fuckableness was a given, Jubblies.

    Leave it to a software engineer to be all, "dude, a real life non-plastic chick wants to fuck me."

    Umm, didn't most of us get over that in high school? Apparently not.

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  4. I don't think I'm over it yet.

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  5. Okay, having reviewed briefly the blog in question, I find it sad. It unwittingly chronicles a man's descent into utter douchebaggery. I can't help but mourn.

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  6. Oh, Calamity, puh-leeze. You notice that men want to fuck you, but you don't get all "look at me! look at me! i'm irresistible in my fuckableness!" about it. I've seen you in public. You may be experiencing a jubilant squeeing frenzy on the inside, but you maintain some semblance of cool.

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  7. Maybe not at the time. But later? There might be some happy dancing going on. Maybe. Don't judge me!

    Also, when have we been in public and someone has wanted to fuck me. WHEN!? Because I think I missed it. Surely not at Goodwill. Because if it was at Goodwill, and it was one of the smelly masses, then I'm not going to squee about it at all. I'm going to bathe in Lysol.

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  8. The happy dance is not the same as writing it down as though it's so unbelievable that if it isn't on the blog, it didn't happen.

    The fuck jig? Killer.

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  9. I think my readers are lucky I don't share some of the texts I get. This guy went from 'I'd let him fuck my sister' to 'I'd let him mop the floor after I fucked his sister' in a matter of seconds.

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  10. I'm a total douche. There's no way around it. I absolutely did blog about someone (maybe, possibly) flirting with me. Fail!

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  11. I thought almost every gal realized, somewhere in her 20's, that every guy friend would fuck her, and thus it really isn't a big deal. Apparently not? The things I could teach you, Cal!
    I've temporarily lost my fuckability except to my husband and freaks, with my growing preggo belly.

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  12. Rachie - Yeah, that might be true about all of a woman's guy friends wanting to fuck her, and deep inside I sort of know that's true, but it still somehow surprises and delights me when I find out some definitive proof of that. I mean I don't show it outwardly. I wish you the best with your pregnancy. P.S. I still don't know why my husband wanted me when I was 9 months pregant, but he fucking did. It baffles me.

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  13. Some guys *cough*keywork*cough* totally get off on pregnant chicks. But then, I see you covered them under "freaks."

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  14. Oh, in my early 20s? Forget about it. Everyone wanted me, period, friend or not. Or so my over-inflated sense of gorgeous thought.

    Now? At 33 and with the same guy for 11 years? I have become oblivious. And chubby.

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  15. 33! Oh shit I'm in for it. This month I hit the big 3-0 & I'm working on the chubbies hardcore. At least I'll have a wee one to blame.

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  16. Some of us were/are under the impression that nobody wanted to fuck us. Ever.

    So the fact that somebody actually married me is still a subject of confusion/consternation/awe.

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  17. Hat's off to Key - I mean to comment further, but that "my sister/his sister" thing was too perfect to top.

    Kudos yet again, sir.

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  18. Gwen: maybe your husband is like me. For your sake, let's hope so.
    NJ: see, I bring out my A-game for ýour reviews. Good to see you again. Oh, and thanks.

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  19. Lb: I'm not a freak, I'm just incredibly open and honest about my sexual tastes.

    Also, the only thing worse than pretending to be Scott Staap is actually being Scott Staap.

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  20. I'm pretty sure if I would rather meet Scott Stapp than a guy who wishes he was Scott Stapp. Either way, I'm pointing and laughing at someone.

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  21. More importantly, was anyone else dragging through a tense internal monologue while reading this review? Like, "Oh crap, do I do that? I totally do that. I don't want to do that. Please don't let me be that guy."

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  22. This blog made me want to pop a cap in this wigger's ass.

    Wait, I'm a wigger?

    Whatever. At least I'm not K-Fed like this guy.

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  23. Ugh. This is the future blog of David of "David After Dentist" fame. "Is this real life?" WINCE. Hi, welcome to drugs, Ian.

    Oh, and about that Safeway vlog. The XTREME GUITAR RIFF featuring a picture of Ian holding a pistol (?!) that abruptly ends to reveal a shirtless, monotone Ian with nipples the size of dinner plates? Amazing in ways terrible things are amazing.

    Finally, A+ on that neck-beard.

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  24. DPH: you're more like Tigress Woods in my book.

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  25. Man, we're all that guy at some point or another, Rassles; I think the difference lies in how interestingly we can get it down on paper/blog.

    Also, for the record, I think being Scott Stapp's mother would be way worse than being Scott Stapp himself. Can you imagine the sewing-circle?

    "My son never calls me anymore."

    "My son works at a gas station."

    "My son's a degenerate heroin-addict."

    "My son's Scott Stapp."

    [silence]

    "You poor thing."

    "God, how do you live with yourself?"

    "If I was you, I'd have eaten a tailpipe, like, long ago."

    "You're a brave woman."

    "What, were you doing speedballs when you conceived or what?"

    "Man, you must feel awful."

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  26. Scott Stapp makes Katy Perry look like Bob Dylan.

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  27. OMG, this dude is "that guy." Ouch.

    I would like to make bets on whether he will link this review or not.

    For instance, his innate "that guy" whoreishness may create an insurmountable dissonance with whatever tiny bit of soul he has left. And then his chest will implode.

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  28. Scott Stapp makes Duran Duran look like Led Zeppelin.

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  29. Too bad I kind of enjoy his blog, nonetheless.

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  30. Scott Stapp makes my grandma's goiter look like a comfy pair of breastses.

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  31. Scott Stapp makes poptarts look like an AIDS vaccine.

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  32. I totally saw Creed at a rundown little club here in my hometown, back in, oh, what was it? '94 maybe? Of course they sucked. I think a friend fucked the bass player. But it was a different bass player. Ah, hell. I can't remember. Too much chronic.

    Rass, I kinda do, too. Douchebags of the world unite, I guess.

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  33. I did like this post about NPR. I fucking hate NPR with the firey hate of a good rendition of Fire by the Ohio Players.

    And here is a TERRIBLE thing to say, but it is true, nonetheless: Please die, Diane Reems. That is the only way you will finally get off the air, and your voice tortures people.

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  34. Hey Rassles,

    Check out the last issue of the Lillian Vernon catalog - there's a goiter bra on page 34 that might make a welcome gift for Grandma.

    Oh, and everyone else - the Scott Stapp voodoo doll on page 83 might be a fun way to pass the time while you're waiting for the meth to cook.

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  35. She really does not have a good voice for radio. Bless her heart.

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  36. NPR? They sound so ...jaded. Thank god for the iPod.

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  37. Whatever, I fucking love Car Talk. And Ira Glass. I don't car what you all say.

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  38. More importantly, I also don't care what you all say.

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  39. I'm sleeping in Rassles' tent on the NPR. Did ýou catch the interview with Bruce Campbell they aired this weekend? Fucking stellar.

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  40. Was it as excellent as the documentary on the My Name Is Bruce DVD about the movie that was almost better than the movie itself, which was excellent nonetheless?

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  41. Bruce Campbell makes Scott Stapp look like Mussolini.

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  42. Bruce Campbell makes Bruce Campbell look like Bruce Mother Fucking Campbell.

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  43. Um, I almost let Bruce Campbell be God for a day once.

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  44. Bruce Campbell makes Rosa Parks look like Imelda Marcos.

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  45. God, I love Bruce Campbell.

    And I love NPR. Any outlet that has Joss Whedon and Rick Steves on the same day is ok by me.

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  46. Bruce Campbell makes evolution look redundant.

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  47. But...

    Joss Whedon make Bruce Campbell look like Rick Steves.

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  48. I don't even know if I could honestly pick between them. Fucking Rick Steves ruled my European travels.

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  49. Rick Steves is just good people. Dorky good people.

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  50. Oh yeah...fuck Imelda Marcos.

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  51. PS - Because it's like the Skymall for geriatrics.

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  52. I really regret clicking on one of his Vlog links. Dude really needs a shirt. And a shave. What a pile of steaming crap.

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  53. Nutjobber - I love this review, thanks :D

    Clearly, we have different taste in some cases. Yes, I vlogged shirtless. But why is that even an issue? Did you go to a boarding school? And you're telling me this video is not hilarious? And yes, I have NWA on my header and I'm white. I'm sorry if I do not fit into preconceived notion of who you think I should be, based entirely on stereotypes. Just kidding. I'm not sorry. Get over it.

    However, for the most part, I agree with the overall assessment presented, not only in terms of my blog, but in terms of my life.

    There was a time when the "unapologetic braggadocio" made sense. It was when I graduated and got my first engineering job. After all that effort to finish school, my number one thought was, "This is it? This is my life?" My friends that started working at the same time seemed to feel the same way. Acting arrogant and over the top was a way to assert a meaning more important than the degrading and sterile corporate existence we were subjected to. Daily. Hourly. Minute by minute and second by second. The act was not only for the sake of myself but for the sake of my friends.

    But now the act, again both on my blog and in real life, has gotten stale. The person depicted as me has become a caricature of myself. Any time that happens, it's kind of lame. The bottom line is my blog, as you put it "should be better than it is."

    You said I have the talent to make "something out of nothing." Thank you. Seriously. That's a quality of my favorite writers. You also said I've got a "straight-ahead style of writing that reeks of sly humour and self-awareness." I guess those two things were part of the "In A Way, I Feel You," part. Even if 99.9% of your review was the "Fuck Off" part, you've still given me some things consider, and to build on.

    And I will do that.

    Gassho.

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  54. This guy presents himself like the ones I used to know when I was in university (for engineering) who were inevitably told, "At some point in your life, you got the misconception that I am above giving you a wedgie. You are mistaken."

    Bottom line, while he may or may not be a decent guy, the character he portrays on his blog is a douche.

    To borrow from other comments, Ian-Ian makes Jason Messner look like Mike Brady.

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  55. OMG, I finally figured out why this guy bugs me. He's Nerdy Tucker Max. Fuck. As if what this world needs more of is FUCKING TUCKER MAX.

    Must go puke now.

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  56. @Love Bites: you're right. I completely agree with that comparison.

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Grow a pair.