Chapter Ten: Nothing smells burnt

I tried it, I couldn't hide it, I just wanna get back to be -- aw baby, hoo-hoo -- back into the man I used to be. k-os sang that.

I have this mythical idea about my own past. That at some point I was some great, upbeat, hilarious guy. I was only ever that inside my mind, and I am no less that now than I was then. But I still get nostalgic for this time in my life, this person I believe myself to have been, even though it's all the invention of my psyche.

As long as this blog has existed, it has been a balancing act (high wire? teeter-totter?) between the self-loathing and the sarcastic. I would hate myself a lot more if I believed there was anything worth hating. As it is I just extract amusement from my own awkwardness. This is how it has always been, this is how it will continue, and I am powerless against it and I wouldn't change it if I could.

I was thinking earlier tonight. Although I was initially thinking, as per usual, about boobs, I got sidetracked into less important things. The impossibility of comedy in the 21st century. I know comedy isn't literally impossible, but I'm very frustrated in my attempt to find out where comedy exists these days. Irony is dead, satire took it out in a murder-suicide when Family Guy was revived. There is the harsh reality of FML and Failblog and Texts from Last Night. There are good webcomics, and there are a lot of bad ones. Mine's somewhere in between but I used to be a lot more sure where. There is the nihilistic "this is what's really going on" infoscavenging of Cracked.com, for which I could never write, especially as they move further and further from movies and video games and deeper into history and culture. They infiltrated the internet and are doing the unthinkable by assuming it can be educated, and I am gravely concerned this is a doomed mission, but kudos for the attempt.

Well, there's hope. I feel like I'm on the right track with Half-Past, and am secretly amazed every time I see someone else laughing at it, because I'm simply astonished anyone else could find it that entertaining. There's proof I'm overthinking it. All Half-Past is is me opening up all my insecurities and fascinations for the world, just letting it be natural. I wrote it when I was 16, when I was more natural and not as prone to over analysis, at least not until I'd already written it. It stands up (for itself.)

Over-analysis probably explains why my subsequent attempt to repeat the success of that play have been met with frustration. Paul was right; Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.

Where my frustration lies is that I couldn't identify what even makes a good target anymore. I felt out of touch with my own generation at the age of 22. How fucked up! I don't think I'm giving the generation enough credit. The fact is, the same things are funny now that always were, and 4Chan hasn't changed that. It's just a matter of doing it properly. Maybe I'm still funny.

Leonard Cohen's poetry is brilliant, but I really dislike listening to his recordings. Some of them feel like parodies. They just sounded better in my head. What the fuck, backup singers on "The Future"?

Well I'm the only one who cares tonight. Today was nothing. Rainy, kinda, but it didn't keep me in, except inasmuch as I got in before it started raining seriously, then sat around playing Pokemon, then didn't really go out again until after it stopped.

Yep, really making the most of my life. Well we'll see.

This entry's a write-off. Could've been better, but it is what it is. Keep on rockin'
-Scott