April 21, 2008

Ro-Beast Rollie's Heavenly Parenthetical Monday Morning Mess

I was going to pick up where I left off last week before I started bitching about them greasy Italics (undoubtedly from the land of the Leaning Tower), but as usual I've been distracted. I have a really hard time staying on track. I have several unpublished blog drafts about dranx and Batman and my penis, but I have a hard time going back from whence I came. Even when I drive and miss a turn, I refuse to stop, turn around, and go back, electing instead to keep moving forward and find a new way. Does that mean something larger? I don't know--I only took psychology 101 (and had the most fun writing silly captions in the textbook before selling it back to the Ithaca College Crookstore).

What was I talking about? Yeah, sports drinks, Television shows, newspaper articles... et cetera. I spend 23 hours a day thinking about bullstuff to write here and 1 hour forgetting all of it, so if I don't carpe that diem, we're left with blankimus maximus.

I'll be back in a few minutes.

All right, what was my point here on this slightly lovely Monday morning? I started reading a newspaper letter thread between Steve Albini and The Chicago Reader from 1994 featuring Albini's accusation of the Reader's reporter being "heavily parenthetical." I looked back and it was true! Exclamation point! Then I realized that I am also heavily parenthetical (it's such a fun phrase to form in your mouth, though I keep wanting to say "Heavenly Parenthetical," which is one part poetic license, one part defense mechanism). Ok, I'm fully aware that asides are integral to my writing style (at least I'm not hyphen happy like when I was just a Writing Minor Threat), but not so much because I'm trying to mold that style. It's just how my brain works. I'm really all over the fucking place and can't concentrate, and sometimes I know that when I get to the end of a sentence, I'm going to move on to a totally different topic, so if I don't get my slightly related aside shoved in there, whether it be a parenthetical situation, or a ridiculous run-on sentence, it will be remembered no more forever.

I didn't used to be that way, even when I was a Mountain Dew maniac. I sort of blame my old roommate Will, who has a contagious form of ADD. Living with him for two years somehow made me unable to concentrate on anything for too long. Now I get bored (or sleepy) if I sit still for too long, interrupt people all the time, read sentences backwards, and write blogs like this. I should check my old blogs and journal from at least 100 years ago to see my downward parenthetical spiral. Being intoxicated makes me even crazier. I sort of blame the Double U Double U Double U Dot Internet Dot Com too. My buddy Ken posted a blog last week and about 75 cents down the page, there was a link that I followed but never came back to read the rest of his blog (I'm not linking to Ken's blog post because I have a special post of my own cooking up related to its contents). It's an asshole thing to do, I know. I was genuinely interested in his post too, but I was just a Howly caught in the web surfing coral. I wonder how many people that started reading this post are actually reading the Albini-Reader battle right now, never to return.

That reminds me, I need to finish reading it myself.

Albini the Rapeman has written quite a beautifully scathing letter there, hasn't he? And while I do agree that The Smashing Pumpkins and Liz Phair are soverrated (though I do enjoy several of their songs), I am bothered that Albini goes right for the Ad Litterarium attack against Wymann. I guess he has to squirt the venom somewhere personal before devouring the victim, but dude, how many sentences did you end in prepositions? Hmmmmm?

Steve Albini's not reading my blog though, so I won't be getting a letter from him (besides, this took place fourteen years ago). I want to know if you have a problem with my writing. Do I not make any sense? Is being "heavily parenthetical" looked down upon in the world of publishing? Does it make me sound like an ignorant early 90's alternative rock critic? Or even worse, a mid-to-late 90's alternative rock critic? And what about "heavily quotational"... and is that worse than being "heavily elliptical?" My wonderful girlfriend read my past couple blog posts out loud and they seemed to all make sense (though she didn't attempt to pronounce my keyboard head bash). Truth be told, I'm not going to change even if you do have a problem, but I just want to know where we stand.

As for Albini... criticism's unfortunatley a double edged sword. One of the other letters said "Critics by nature are elitist, as their writings are based on the premise that 'my opinion is more valid than yours'" and, well, yeah, that's true. I'm pretty caught up in calling myself an anti-elitist (see two posts ago), but I have absolutely no problem telling you that XXXXX's* music is garbage and if you like it then you're a complete fucking idiot. There is accounting for taste, and I'm the IRS, you motherfatherchinesedentist. Sorry, but you just can't spell Hypocritical without Critic.

Speaking of China, they're beating us on the internet. If you're planning to boycott the Olympics, I ask you to spend the entire fortnight in August sitting on the Internets in order to read this blog over and over again. Maybe we here at Beauty and the Ro-Beast will do something special for ya.


* pronounced "Linkin Park"

1 comment:

teh Beauty said...

I think parentheses are sexy, and I over-hyphenate. Sometimes I end sentences with prepositions, but I was an English major. I cosnciously choose to break these rules, so it's ok? Right? RIGHT?