8/01/2006

four letter words and other symbols of rebellion.

i remember watching once sinead o'connor perform. well, i didn't remember the circumstances until i was reminded of it tonight, but she had 2 weeks earlier ripped up a picture of the pope saying "fight the real enemy". she was supposed to perform dylan's "i believe in you" but she came on stage to a chorus of boos.

well, look at it yourself, you can find it on youtube, search for "sinead booed"

shaved head, hands behind back in a plain blue dress she then rips into an version of bob marley's "war".

the following is from wikipedia:

On September 22, 1997, O'Connor was interviewed in Vita, an Italian weekly newspaper. In the interview, she asked the Pope to forgive her. She claimed that the tearing of the photo was "a ridiculous act, the gesture of a girl rebel." She claimed she did it "because I was in rebellion against the faith, but I was still within the faith." She went on to quote Saint Augustine, by saying, "Anger is the first step towards courage."

this is a horribly complex post to write.

dylan :
"who booed me last night?"
"did you boo me last night?"
"i want you to find all the people that booed me last night."

i used to try that kind of self-avoidance of shortcomings and i used to infuriate people with out of point answers and arguments. what happened to it.

i have sold out, i think. i'll be honest. to most definitions of "selling out", i have sold out. bravo. i applaud all my free-spirited friends.

i don't know what crazy impulse leads me to think that now. what crazy impulse wants me to be a pubescent again, and not younger in a "life was simpler then" sense, but 14 year old two fingers to your teacher, how uncool all the other earnest, eager little kids were. no matter how stupid it looked, i miss the conviction that i was cooler than everyone else. yes, i want to be the hottest thing since sliced bread. =p everyone else is from camatotz, as far as i'm concerned. i think i idolised myself. i saw my idols in me. even atticus fucking finch. don't matter that you don't see nothing.

i was so cool i didn't need to say much. in fact, i want conversation with me to sound like strawberry fields forever again. i don't want to know how your day was. fuck off. but i hate confrontation of course, dad knows best. dad always thought i was the "quiet rebel"

and then growing older is about learning new things. but then you convince yourself that there are limits. and people come along and tell you not to sulk so much. you convince yourself that happiness is attainable. and it very well turns out that it is. you work hard, you get good results, generally. smile more, and you make friends. "the love you take is equal to the love you make". so you try to be a more wholesome, well-rounded person. girls like wholesome, well rounded boys who are sweet and caring. well, anything to get a wholesome girl.

but i find myself wondering what kind of life i would have had i not gone to jc, or not gone to a particular class in that jc. somehow i felt a part of that community which prevented my full don't give a flying fuck self from taking hold. nobody allowed me to brood in the corner as i would have liked and even on my off days someone would always tell me to snap out of it. plus, life become more of a responsibility have to get things done kind of life as we all strived to prove what fantastic interpersonal/managerial/leadership skills we had. it's quite easy to turn on really. i think i would have drifted aimlessly (until a need for change took hold and then we're back where we start today)

maybe i just don't do interpersonal. make me.

don't get me wrong. i think i'm happier. but i've sold out. my blog reads like a fucking carousel now. which is a shame really. it was the blog or me.

i feel like being a petulant spoilt brat now.

this can be sung to a tune to your head. it's quite profound anyway, most of the best pop choruses are simple and catchy.

don't know much about middle east
don't care much about no third world peace
all i know is that i love god.
and i can tell you that god loves you too.

when you find only a little piece
of the carcass that was once your niece
tell yourself she's in a better place
"members only" membership by race.

who loves me
who loves me
the whole world's fucking crazy
who loves me
who loves me
you're never gonna find me

they say that love is just a four letter word... i used too many four letter words today.