Olympic/Sport-Related Griping

Ok, seeing as the Olympics are now over, I figured I may as well post this rant (or mini-rant) while it's still halfway relevant. (Sidenote: I also despise forgetting things. I had a thought for another post in my head for days, but it's gone now. Sucks to be you, I guess, as you won't get to read it!)

This first occurred to me a couple of months back, and stayed with me through the Olympics. I'm not an Olympics fan-or any kind of sport fan-so you know that this must piss me off something shocking. It was probably 3 in the morning, some very late hour on a weekend. I was at a friend's house, and we were crashing after a party. Before we did, we decided to stay up and watch Black Caviar racing at....Ascot, I think it was. Her first race in the UK, very big deal. In the leadup to this event, the media was pretty much frothing at the mouth over the awesomeness of this undefeated horse. That's all well and good; it's not as if I have problems with an amazingly fast horse. I'd rather have that on the news than Julia Gillard slow-talking at me, but that's a whole other issue. My problem arose after this race at Ascot. Black Caviar won the race, as everybody knew she would, but not by the distance that the world was apparently expecting. The media seemed to have an issue with this, or, alternatively, it was a slow news day. I don't know which. I was watching/reading the news the next day, and everybody was up in arms about Black Caviar's "failure". There was talk of her retiring, and all sorts of other crap, simply because a race was too close. I think I spent the next few days facepalming at the absurdity of this reaction. "What the fuck are you talking about, guys? She won! With what looked like remarkable ease, I might add. You don't, say, fire an employee because they don't fill their quota once in their career.  Just let it go and try and find something a bit more credible to talk about." I guess they did find something more credible to talk about, but not what I was expecting. As soon as the horse arrived back in Australia, everybody was back to talking about how wonderful and undefeated she is.

This, sadly, is not the only example of such fickle reactions in the media. The same thing happened during the Olympics, most notably during the swimming. I have no idea what event or events this concerned; all I know is that a lot of the hype surrounded "The Missile". Prior to his events, everybody, including himself, was losing their shit hyping him up to the country and the rest of the world. Surprisingly, he failed to obtain a single gold medal. As soon as this happened, everybody jumped on the "momentary lapse = eternal failure" bandwagon. Every news item seemed to relate to his most recent loss, and whose fault it was, and how he could improve himself. I'm like "Uh...guys? He's in his 20s, is damn fast and managed to get a silver at the Olympics. So he had an off competition. Everybody does. So maybe go fuck yourselves, and while you're at it, support the athletes. Again, I'm not a sports fan, but they'll do, and have done, a damn sight more than you ever have or ever will." A couple of days ago, I saw an ad on my Facebook feed (from Samsung-a sponsor, but still) encouraging me to support whatshisfacemissile (if he's reading this, my apologies) and congratulate him on his success or whatever. Once again, facepalming ensued. Ensued, and hasn't faded since.

Fuck, it feels good to have vented that at last! Also, I just remembered what my other rant was about, so off I go to write a note for myself.

Mildly Ironic Bitching

So the first announcement for Soundwave was released yesterday morning. I, like a very large number of people, died of happiness upon reading the poster. My current complaint relates to the aftermath of this announcement.

As per usual, all of my acquaintances on Facebook posted their reactions to this announcement and whether or not they'd be attending. Among the standard barrage of useless posts from people I have nothing to do with, ie. lame pictures they post on some other random's wall and the like, I noticed that a friend of mine liked a post (as usual, written by some person I've never heard of in my life, and I doubt the 50,000 people who liked the post would have either) on Soundwave's wall. I read the entirety of this post out of curiosity, and as I did, the angrier I got. If I'd been a bit more conscious, I'd have been facepalming.

This post was rather lengthy, and, I must admit, well-written. This made his argment even more confusing to me. The post essentially said the following: "I have attended Soundwave for a number of years now, in other states as well as my own. This was an incredible highlight for me, until I saw this lineup. You have disappointed me, as well as the larger community, and I am so offended that you are lapsing in catering to my needs that I will be boycotting your festival and wanted to express my extreme disgust."

My response: Grow. The fuck. Up. It's all well and good that you don't care for the lineup; that's your prerogative. But expecting a nationwide festival costing a total of $36m to cater to you, and getting butthurt when it doesn't, is utterly ridiculous. By your own admission, you had many good experiences at this event, so just shut up and be content with that. I have no doubt that there are many people around Australia who haven't been able to experience the Soundwave joy, who may be able to this time around. Let them have their fun; you've had yours.

Moral of the story: why the fuck can't people just be happy with what they have? I'm probably not the best person to be asking this, as I have quite high expectations in life myself, but it's clearly a common problem, regardless.

Coming up (hopefully): a post very similar to this, but relating to the Olympics and the Australian media.

Lost

My apologies to those of you out there who actually read this blog-if there are any readers who aren't spammers, lol. Been meaning to update for such a long time, and I look at my stats with shame after seeing my last post date. I've had a lot going on in my life these past few months, and thought I'd better try and come up with posts that aren't my bitching about the state of the world. Unfortunately, that hasn't worked too well, and I don't even have the heart to write bitching posts anymore. As a result, I'll now go down the depressing route ans break the drought with a post that bitches about myself.

I don't recall ever feeling so alone in my life. In the past, I could always find something to keep me going-usually a form of innocence/stupidity that comes from being young and not having experienced the world. I've now experienced the world, and don't know how much more I can take.

My life appears to be nothing but a series of vicious circles, and I am a walking contradiction. Life would be wonderful, or at least worth living, if I could get my shit together, but I will be unable to find a reason to keep going until my head is in the right place. Awesome. My life is so full of circles that I can't even explain them anymore. Anyway. In a more understandable explanation, I won't feel remotely worthwhile until I have a reason to live, and I won't have a reason to live until I'm worthwhile, or at least somebody that people don't run screaming in droves to avoid.

At this point in my life, I would say that I have two "real" friends-one of whom has a life, and one who I have never met. For various reasons, largely my persistent inferiority complex, I have no social circle, and no social circle seems keen to have me. I have been dumped twice in a four-month period, the last time primarily because of who I am. I have a large family, but am completely unaware that any of them want anything to do with me until I find out days, if not weeks, later, from my mother.

In addition to this isolation, I also have no purpose. I left my job two weeks ago, for reasons I can't be bothered going into. I have no career aspirations and no hobbies. Most importantly, I can't feel. I don't know what it's like to truly feel anything other than pain and loneliness. I don't know what it feels like to want anything, or what it's like to be truly happy. I question everything and everyone in my "life", and with everything I've explained, the answer is no longer "Their loss". These days, the answer is "I suck. I am a true failure as a person. If I was somebody truly worth knowing, with as much potential as people have previously claimed, I'd have something to show for it. Instead, both people and goals elude me, and I'm the common factor".

I don't know what to do anymore. I'm alone and useless-living in shitsville, with nothing to do but curl up in bed and think, cry and watch the Simpsons approximately five hundred times in a row. I just want this to stop. I want the pain and numbness to go away, and with every day that goes by, that looks less and less likely. If there is a higher power, perhaps they could enlighten me: why the fuck am I still here?

Miscellaneous

So it's been far too long since I've posted any of my meaningless crap. Love's a bitch, particularly if you're, say, trying to focus on something like trying to be normal and establish some kind of identity.

Nothing really to comment on at the moment, except I have some Simpsons-related (when aren't they?) gripes. You can tell I still have no life-at least, not the productive kind of life.

In "22 Short Films About Springfield", Smithers is stung in the eye by a bee, and it is revealed that he is allergic to bee stings. "They cause me to, uh...die." As a result, he is seen lying semi-conscious outside the hospital. However, in an earlier episode (can't be bothered finding the exact name, despite supposedly trying to improve my German-it's the one where the German guys buy the power plant from Burns), Mr. Burns is shown enjoying his retirement and partaking in a rather odd selection of hobbies, including beekeeping. Smithers comes to see him so they can have a night on the town, and is stung by a number of the bees, and is apparently fine. There was much internal screaming upon this discovery.

The other complaint involves the episode I just finished watching: "Mr. Lisa Goes To Washington". Lisa wins an essay contest (sorry to spoil that for you...20 years later) and the family win a trip to Washington (as suggested in the episode title). As one would expect, they arrive by plane, and Marge is completely content. A mere three seasons later, she apparently has a lifelong fear of flying, resulting in her running up and down the aisle of the plane screaming 'LET ME OFF!'

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I was under the impression that childhood phobias and deathly allergic reactions don't just magic themselves out of nowhere-and in the case of Smithers, magic themselves away again as soon as the episode is done.

(Slightly Early) Tribute

So my idol, Axl Rose, celebrates his 50th birthday on Monday. In his honour, I wanted to write a post dedicated to how he, and Guns N' Roses, changed my life.

I'll start from the beginning. I first heard of GN'R when I was very young. My memory tells me I was about 5 years old, but for all I know, it could have been earlier! I was at home, and my siblings still lived at home. One of them, I think it was one of my sisters, had the TV on, and I was seemingly transfixed by the video for November Rain. That song stayed with me ever since. It hit me in a way that I don't believe any other song ever has, or ever will. It stuck with me for about 10 years, until I got the internet and somehow managed to find the song again.

At this stage, I was in the early years of high school, and was recovering from the embarrassment of being a Spice Girls fangirl. As I said, I had the internet at this point, so was able to get my GN'R fix. The resident asshole of my class was also a fan, and that made me remember to look for that awesome band (I think. I repressed most of high school.). I soon found them, and was able to watch the video for November Rain again.

For one of my birthdays a bit further down the track-I think it might have been my 14th-one of my brothers gave me my first mp3 player. Useless thing it was, but it fulfilled my needs at the time. With this new gadget, I looked for new songs, and soon fell in love with Bad Obsession, from Use Your Illusion I. I went to another world when listening to that song, and still do. I vividly remember sitting in the gym during PE class with it blasting in my ears, making me forget that I wasn't getting on with my friends, and not care that I wasn't one of the beautiful people off playing basketball. Bad Obsession made me content with my life at the time.

Fast forward a few years, to shortly after my 16th birthday. I was desperately unhappy at this point, like a lot of teenagers, and needed to find my own identity, instead of being a scared, spineless wuss, leeching a life off my best friend. Long story short, I cut all ties with her for a few months. Once again, Axl was there. Guns N' Roses kept me company in my lunchtimes and free periods, and distracted me from reality (and younger kids who saw that I was alone, felt sorry for me, and proceeded to stalk me).

Also around this time, I became one of the "downloading motherfuckers", and heard some of the leaks of Chinese Democracy. The demo of Better became my version of crack. When I first heard it, I'm fairly sure I listened to it for 12 hours straight. I rushed out of school, desperate to hear it again, and had the song in my head all the time. Despite that overexposure, it's still one of my all-time favourites.

Despite this deep love for the band, I didn't become a die-hard fan until around April 2007, when an Australian tour was announced; the first since 1993, and, therefore, the first in my lifetime. There were no words for my excitement. It was my first gig, and I even skipped first-period English to go and get my ticket. (Don't worry, I didn't go off the rails; my mother drove me.)

Then the day finally came. June 15th, 2007. Off I went to the show, where I proceeded to sit around texting people and silently laughing at all the other concertgoers who seemingly couldn't escape from the 80s. I believe that night was also the first time I got groped, so clearly it was a good night! Aside from my irritation at the more casual fans, that is. Even back then, as a naive 17 year old, I was still more than ready to punch anyone asking "Where's Slash?" or, better still, "Where's the dude with the hat?" Or anyone who was only there to hear Sweet Child O' Mine. Really? Spending $100+ to hear one song and to ask why the original guitarist isn't there playing it? But that's a rant for another time. Back to the show. Finally, at about 9pm, the show started. (Note: I don't believe Axl came on stage late, but I doubt I'd have given a shit if he did.) I screamed myself hoarse, and threw my neck out headbanging. I go mental at gigs, particularly that one. Then, a while into the show, Axl sits down at the piano and starts to play November Rain. I burst into tears. I was so in awe of this man, and the fact that I was privileged enough to be there, listening to my favourite song live. It got better, though. Towards the end of the night, the band played Patience. This moment was even more special, as I had one of the worst seats in the place; about 2 rows from the back. During the first verse, Axl strolls over to 'my' side of the stage, and proceeds to sing the entire verse while looking me directly in the eyes. I was fangirling like nobody's business at that moment. Or I would have been-I bought a shirt earlier in the night, and it had gone missing, so I was distracted by that and the possibility of being out $50. But yeah. I was punching myself in the arm to make sure that I was alive, and I couldn't believe my luck. That man has a very intense gaze! Another reason I was punching myself. That show has stuck with me ever since, and I've got a bit of a shrine going in my room-newspaper clippings, confetti, my ticket, photos, etc. Oh, that's right! My only downside of the night was that I'd bought my first digital camera for the occasion, and wasn't aware that it needed a memory card. As a result, I only got about half a dozen photos, most of them shit. I got audio of the show as well, but because I was in such a terrible seat, the sound isn't that great. Anyway. Best night ever, and I hope to god that I can repeat the experience at some stage in the forseeable future.

After this, it was a bit quiet on the GN'R front, until Chinese Democracy was finally released in November of 2008. I was ecstatic. Coincidentally, I had a job interview a day or so before the promoted release date, and went down to JB HiFi afterwards to see if it was in stock yet. I got my hands on 2 copies, and proceeded to read the lyrics and liner notes while I waited for a train home. I also got a can of Dr Pepper to commemorate the event. That album is insanely good. I couldn't listen to This I Love for months, as it made me cry every single time. (Thanks Axl. I needed more sobbing at this stage in my life!)

A few months after the album's release, a guitarist by the name of DJ Ashba joined Guns N' Roses. He, in my opinion, completes the band, and it is now my dream to see DJ and Axl onstage together, as they are my biggest inspirations. Hopefully that happens soon!

On a more personal level, I admire Axl because he is a fucking hilarious bastard, is loyal to those who are close to him, writes some of the best music I've ever heard in my life, and is the truest rockstar I've ever seen. A brief summary, as I could probably go on about his awesomeness forever-if I could articulate in the first place, instead of drooling. I'd love to meet him one day and tell him all of these things in person, but I guess I'll stick with writing this and sending it out into the world.

Happy birthday, Axl, and may you have many more! Thanks for changing my life, and so many others. =)

Short Rant

Just a brief rant tonight, as I'm currently too brain-dead and chirpy to be severely pissed off at anything that isn't My Kitchen Rules. But that's perhaps a story for another time.

Here in Melbourne, all the kiddies start school for another year this week. Thank god. Means I (hopefully) won't be stuck with a hyperactive child on a trampoline outside my window every day. However, on the other hand, kiddies back at school means they'll be clogging up trains and buses with their cliques, excessive swearing and inane screaming-if they're high schoolers, that is. Primary school kiddies just go on excursions where you're walking to a train and find yourself enveloped by what seems to be an entire year level. Anyway.

On the news every year, there's a particular emphasis on multiple-birth children having their first day at school. Usually, it's twins, but I imagine it's a red letter day when they, as channel 7 seems to have done this year, find quadruplets toddling off to prep. The more children there are, the more interested us viewers are apparently meant to be. This has been puzzling and irritating me for many years. A child's first day at school is one of those important milestones, no matter the circumstances. It's supposed to be some big emotional day for parents everywhere. So what if a kid starting school happens to have a clone? It, in my opinion, that is, shouldn't make the occasion more important than a child with no siblings. I'm thinking the human-interest reporters should try another angle, and focus on disadvantaged children or someone else whose story truly stands out and tugs at the heartstrings, rather than going "Look! This small child has a double, and possibly a triple! Let's ponder how the other kiddies will be confused by them, and think about just how much more proud their parents will be!" (Apologies to any twins or relatives of twins who happen to read this, I just don't think that being a twin or triplet or quadruplet or whatever is THAT special.)

That rant made me remember a slightly different story on the news tonight. I only saw the news update in the commercial breaks, but my mother filled me in on the story itself later. It seems that some woman hired a limo to take her kid/s to school for the first time. My only thought was "What. The. FUCK?" Not only is this ridiculously excessive, but it, to me, suggests a certain disinterest in the child or children in question. I was under the impression that driving one's child to their first day of school was part of the emotional significance for the parent, where the parent can share in the day and be with their child and all that. To hire a limo suggests to me that the parent, although probably well-meaning, possibly can't be bothered establishing or maintaining a bond with their offspring. The child becomes some sort of trophy, another way for the well-off parent to show off their status in life and all the things they can provide. This is obviously just my opinion, as I know nothing of these people and their lives and relationships; it's speculation on my part. However, that doesn't mean things like this never happen. Parenting is becoming ever more extravagant, which makes me wonder what happened to just raising a child and loving them. The best things in life are apparently free, after all.

Well, so much for a brief rant! Guess anything child-related angers me more than I thought. I could probably opine on issues such as this until the cows come home, but I think the more productive option would be to shut up and catch up on some much-needed sleep. Goodnight world!

Minor Irritation

It's been a while since I've posted, which I'm still deeply ashamed of. Summer is like a lobotomy, which results in me being unable to construct a sentence, and being relatively happy means that there's nothing to complain about, save for the usual things. Not to mention the short attention span, which means I don't get around to recapping things like the Simpsons the way I keep saying I will.

So I've been out shopping a couple of times lately (yay, losing money!), and have noticed ads for the new series of the Biggest Loser. In these ads, you see the trainers posing naked, with a tagline talking about learning to love yourself. The tagline is great, but I'm thinking they could have used pictures of the contestants instead, as they're the ones losing weight. Plus, it's apparently a dating show now, so the line is even less relevant when the focus is on the trainers. I doubt the trainers have any severe relationship issues, and if I looked like them, I'd love myself too! Apologies if this doesn't make sense, but it's one in the morning and I simply needed to vent this issue of great importance before going to sleep. This rant has me thinking I really should go into advertising.

In other news, I bought myself the first series of Pokemon on Friday, which I've been watching constantly ever since. Sad, I know. I should recap that as well, as it has some priceless moments. My first broad observation: Ash Ketchum is a fuckwit. I'm pretty sure I had much the same opinion as a child, but, due to the fact that I was a child and life was great, the feeling would have been much less vehement. Second observation: in one episode, our 'heroes', as the narrator insists on calling them, have stopped to eat. I might not know much about Japanese culture, but I damn well know rice when I see it! Despite the fact that they were eating rice, Brock repeatedly calls them jelly donuts. Bloody Americans. Now, I could handle that attempt to make the show more relatable if attempts such as these were actually consistent. A few episodes later, the characters seem to have remembered their Japanese roots, and are now calling their snacks rice balls. Useless, yes, but I never promised that my ranting would be anything of importance!

*stops for breath* Now that those earth-shattering issues are off my chest, I should really go to sleep, so I can be prepared for another wonderful day of nothing. The joys of prolonged unemployment...