2004-04-26 - 12:14 p.m.
I was up late last night finishing my paper, which is due on Tuesday. The only thing that stands between me and my first three grad school credits is this gargantuan fucking paper which, like an asshole, I waited until the last minute to do. Of course I took a few hours out to see Kill Bill 2, but all I could think about was how the movie is an excellent example of pastiche and I wonder how I could work it into this postmodernism paper. WTF?
Remember that mini-rant I wrote about Gary Benchley�s letters to www.themorningnews.org?
�Goddammit Benchley, you fucked up. You offered some hope that there were still dreamers in the world, who wanted to rock, or write, or sing, and then you dashed that hope by letting your roommate suck you off. Now you�re just another sell-out whore milling the streets of New York. It�s disappointing. I wanted to hear about failed or triumphant auditions and an all-consuming need to rock the house. Instead, I got this schlock. Better luck next time, Benchley.�
Rereading it, I realized I kind of came across as an idealistic, pompous ass, but it was still funny enough that I sent it to Mr. Benchley via the editor at The Morning News. Here�s his response:
Pencopal,
Yes, you're totally right, Guided by Voices ROCKS! Big Boring Wedding is the best song EVER.
I would respond to your other opinions, but they are stupid.
Sincerely,
Gary Benchley
Funny, right? He totally shat on me. But who the hell are Guided by Voices? Is it nu metal (goddamn I wish I knew the keystroke for an umlaut) or Christian rock? I think he would�ve been better off to say that The Polyphonic Spree rocks, and that Light & Day/Reach for the sun is the best song ever. But that�s just me. (How awesome was it to see them on that episode of Scrubs?) I was going to write a response, but then I figured, what�s the fucking point? Either he was bored enough to write back, or I hit a little nerve, like a stinging pinch on the tender flesh inside your arm. Not enough to make you cry, but just enough to rouse your ire and make you want to punch the pincher in the face. In the immortal words of Dave Chappelle, �Got you, bitch!�
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