awesome

this is my kitteh, with a paw in your face

i hate apple and so can you

There is nothing more frustrating than the person who exclaims about their apple products to such a degree that it borders on brave new world indoctrination. You know these types, you may even be one. The tired old stereotypes of the apple loving bearded dirty hipster in the coffee shop writing a novel, these are old stereotypes, and I could do without them. What is worse, is the former windows using type who has recently converted to apple products and has nothing better to do than explain to you endlessly why their apple line of products far surpasses that of their previous windows machines, music players, etc…of course my dad is the number one offender in this case. His favorite phrase is “If I were doing this with my apple it would just work” He blames this problem on everything, from routers, to web pages, phones; TV shows everything that can be thought of.

                Then I have friends in the music community who used to use windows pc’s for music production, after switching to apple, they can’t wait to tell m e about how great it is , even compiling copious amounts of Google research about why the OSX operating system is so stable, all the above. “IT JUST WORKS WILL”

                Usually this is a case of two things; first off, a person who doesn’t know how to operate a computer in the first place is going to be more likely to love an apple computer. There is a reason that the apple OS looks so friendly, like a bunch of brightly colored buttons that wiggle around when you click them. It is because using an apple computer requires the amount of skill to operate an etch a sketch. There is a reason that the app store, the iTunes store, etc… all exists, so that the gears of an operating system are hidden from you permanently. God forbid you would ever have to go into the registry and fix something yourself. NO VIRUSES WILL! I get this one a lot. “Really? No viruses, then I wonder, you were getting viruses on your computer? Probably, BECAUSE YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO USE THE INTERENT. If you go around clicking very link, going to untrusted sites, agreeing and replying to the Nigerian prince who claims to have 1.5 million dollars in bearer bonds for you, then you deserve the viruses you get. That’s just my opinion. The other reason people love apple so much, is just because of what it looks like. I will admit the aesthetics of a new apple device are pretty nice. But lets say you need to do something normal, exchange a battery, put in third party hardware, put in a new video card, put in a new sound card, delete all the non  sense that apple preloads into all their computers, well in that case, you have to take your apple to a “Genius” of course. First off, walking into the apple store is almost like walking into a hipster party that you weren’t invited to, but were dragged to by some of your less good friends. I think if you cut open and bleed anyone in an Apple store, star bucks coffee comes out.  It’s a f*cking madhouse, a million people drooling and putting their filthy fingers on everything in the store. Giant flat screen devices on all ends blaring and subduing everyone with more apple advertisements, keynote speeches from apple execs, and the like. You are already in the apple store, isn’t this a good place for the apple commercials to cease? Also, people in blue shirts who work there, they don’t really work there. That’s why if you walk in, and need some help, no one will help you. That’s because everyone who is an employee is actually is playing with their iphone, or blathering to someone else about the ipad,. The genius is the only one who can fix your computer unfortunately. But when he emerges form his wizard of oz layer, he doesn’t exactly look like a genius, he looks like the kid who sits next to me in social policy class.

Thank god I don’t have to suffer these idiots, I can fix my own computer and so can you.

                Finally, the one thing I hate to hear is about how some factor of computer life would work better on apple. These idiots say it about everything.  My internet would work better on an apple, my phone would work better if it was an apple, my coffee would taste better if it were an apple, my relationship wouldn’t suffer so much if it was an apple, my life wouldn’t be so meaningless if it were an apple …. Oops yes it would, because apple is what takes away the meaning from things in the first place by replacing it with flashy pieces of shit. Think apple makes life better? Watch a keynote address from Steve Jobs and tell me if it is not the most self stroking self indulgent masturbatory experience you have ever seen one person engage in. He loves himself. You can tell.

***you dont get a second chance to make a permanent impression***

            We had just finished playing our set. I thought we did pretty good, the sound was reasonable. This classy looking dame came up to me afterwards and said she really liked the songs.

            Classy dame: “I really like your sound.”

            Me: “Thanks, we like your sound too.”

            Confused classy dame: “So when did you form ‘Sweep the leg Johnny’?

            You see she must have come in late because she was actually confusing me with a different guy. She thought I was the lead singer for “Sweep the leg Johnny”, which I’m not because that band is fucking horrible. If you propped up a sack of apples on a stage and taped instruments in their apple cores it would sound like “Sweep the leg Johnny”.

            In actuality, they are a band that we compete with frequently, they are always taking our slots, making a horrid mess on the stage, and their makeup gets all over the backstage area like clown paste.

            Me: “Yea I formed “Sweep the leg Johnny” in high school because, as you can see, we love karate kid”

            You see when a girl is really attractive, the rules and useful social graces that everyone else uses like a pair of socks no longer apply. I don’t think of myself as a dishonest person, but a really beautiful girl will make me forget my own name or which band I actually do play in. Maybe forget is the wrong word.

            So I sat there talking to her for a while. She was wearing ripped up leggings and a tie in her hair. She would look right on the set of “Desperately Seeking Susan” with the amount of bracelets she had on. A real classy diamond. She was hard to look at for too long at a time. But I carried on, for maybe thirty minutes, pretending to be this other guy. I invented all sorts of tales. I told her a make believe life story, I unwound yards of phony brothers and sisters, parents who lived in Bolivia, a job as a Yarn Consultant near a sugar packing plant, aspirations for  clogging and macramé, a secret love for banjos and steam powered bicycles. 

            I talked shit about my own band to her, “Ragdolls on Fire”, she played along. She went really far actually. She said some pretty crazy things about our sound. Some of it was way off base, the rest was just distasteful. Towards the end of the conversation, I was starting to get really angry, standing there at the bar, with this beautiful woman telling me all the ways that my music was cheapening her night time experience, how we copied this band and this band, how I was a really shitty front man. Funny thing, it wasn’t even night time, imagine my laughter.

            But to be there with a dangerous girl, with her malicious insults about my band throwing around like rice at a wedding, I just stood there listening. She could hold a conversation with herself. Eyes glowing lightly in the reflection on the bar mirrors opposite. I saw the lead singer for “Sweep the Leg Johnny” coming around from the backstage room, rubbing a bit of eyeliner around his eyes. I told the dame; Sophie was her name, that I would hold her drink while she went to bathroom. I grabbed the lead singer from the other band and led him to the bar. I looked at him, for a while, saying nothing, but thinking violence.

            Eventually he said, “What the hell Will?”

            Me: “You know your band is pretty good.”

            Him: “You think so?”

            Me: “No.”

            I couldn’t see any resemblance between him and I. We looked nothing alike, unless you counted the fact that I don’t look like a glob of mascara shoved between a slumping pair of shoulders. The dame was walking back, I told him to wait here because “There’s someone I’d like you to meet”

            I walked out, to pack up the rest of the gear, and get the hell out of there. I saw them talking to each other as I went into the backstage room. There was mascara everywhere.  

***turn it off (when applicable)***

I have to walk everywhere on this campus. Like everything in Austin, there is no parking, all the lines are long, there is a long wait, and the traffic is an atrocity. Then SXSW rolls in and seven thousand L.A. tourists roll in mass cased in their 27 seat S.U.V.’s clogging the whole town like a wad of gum with horrible cologne and blonde tips. Not to mention every news team in existence descending on the small town in leagues of wrist bands and general hipster douche baggery. I usually try to leave the city limits during the festival because for the most part it’s actually for people who don’t live here to enjoy.

In any case, I wandered around the campus waiting for the meeting to start. This amazing view of the complete downtown area is viewable from the building overlooking the skyline meeting the sky. It’s not bad.

That’s when I noticed that there are few (if any) males in the Social Work department. In all of my classes, I am one of maybe two or three guys. I think Social Work is a field that men stay away from. Maybe they would rather build empires or turn screws, whatever fills you up. Still, it’s strange trampling through the events, the meetings, the classes, the forums of discussion, and I’m the only guy who attends any of it. I wonder if they resent me for being there? I asked one girl why there were so few guys. She told me that men in social work were a bit of a hot commodity, smiling as she did so. My brain is not…all that great or accurate to begin with… So I asked her.

“Commodities? As what…husbands?”

“No”, she said, “as professionals”.

“Of course…”

So I guess it’s hard for me to turn off the douche bag in myself just the same, man was I embarrassed. Sometimes it’s just better to stay out of the way. 

I’m starting this idea

I’m creating this blog so that a very missed friend of mine can see more about what’s going on in my life since we last saw each other. I hope it works as a window so that we can see more clearly to each other.