Nothing lets me know I don’t like the things I liked when I was 10 years old so much as the stupid movies that come out in the summer. I don’t care about superheroes. I don’t care about space. And I certainly don’t care about whether or not the movies about superheros and space live up to some idea of what I believe they should be.
People have this weird desire to be consistent. Consistent politically, consistent with the crap they buy, consistency in the stupid little web pages they make.
Like consistency is some sort of indication of moral superiority. A few rungs up higher on the old evolutionary chart.
Maybe this is what makes 30 year guys give a shit about a Batman movie?
They want to tell me something about themselves by talking about a movie where a guy runs around in a pair of tights. I don’t know what it is they’re trying to tell me.
The thing I always liked about you dear old internet is that I can do whatever I want. Here I am rambling away on a domain where I haven’t really said anything in years and so what? Maybe I’ll do a little more rambling tomorrow, maybe I’ll abandon it for another few years.
But it’s here. And you don’t need to be my friend to read it. And you don’t need a password and a username and a date of birth and a hometown and a goddamn secret question. You just punch up the address and read it. Or you don’t.