Thursday, September 17, 2009

Not Better or Worse, Just Different

As promised, Superiority complexes and why you are not a better person than me.

I have way too many people in my life superiority complexes. In fact, most of my friends from high school fall under this category. As does an ex. And my father. And occasionally, the fiancee.

According to these people, liking certain things makes me less of a person. Not as smart, worldly or as individual as they are. Now we've all judged someone by their interests – 'Twilight' has become a banned topic in my MMO clan due to my explosive reaction when someone praises it – but I'm talking about the full blown sneering and disgust that comes with telling someone you like a particular band/music group, tv show and so on.

I like what I like. My likes are varied and most of the time, I don't have to justify them. I can cheerfully admit when something I like isn't the best quality in it's genre. I watch things things because something in the show appeals to me, I listen to music because it's fun to sing along or dance to and I read books because I like the story and something draws me in.

My likes may not be considered classics in their field or even have a life beyond the end of the season or until another studio manufactored boy band takes their place. So what? That doesn't make me less of a person.

Miss Better Than You has very strong opinions about this. She has very strong opinions about everything, but this is a red button subject for her. As far as she's concerned, the only musicians worth listening to are independent artists played on independent stations, who perform shows to an audience no larger than 5000 or bands that have stood the test of time and remain as popular now as they were 20 years ago.

She has great disdain for me listening to commericial radio & going to stadium concerts, considers me uncultured and regularly informed me that I was unable to think for myself and just liked what the record companies told me to like. Apparently I should have been true to myself and listened to what she told me was good.

I didn't listen to her taste in music because I didn't enjoy it. There was nothing about it that I found appealing and nothing in it spoke to me.

Different taste in music does not make you a better person. In this particular case, it made her a pretentious bitch who tried just as hard to fit into her perception of a mold as does a wanna-be goth or emo.

Worse than that, IMHO, is the bandwagon-jumpers. Now I have adverse reaction to almost any statement praising Twilight, but having said that, I have read all four books (plus the Edwards's POV book) and I'm hooked. I hate myself for this by the way. In almost all of the numerous arguments I've had regarding the quality of the books (and I use the term loosely), whoever I've been arguing against has asked “Have you even read the damn books?” and when I've replied with “Yes, all of them actually” it's become a heated debate because they know that I know what I'm talking about.

I will debate anything with anyone. As long as they know what they're talking about. The Fiancee has spent many hours ragging on the Harry Potter series and making fun of me for being so addicted to it. All he's ever seen is movie previews on TV. Unfortunately, I'm the kind of person where picking on something you know nothing about makes your opinion automatically invalid.

Being the average consumer and not a reviewer, when I listen to a song or watch a movie, the intention behind it or the artistic merit behind it or whether it will stand the test of time doesn't matter to me. Whether I enjoy it or not does. Liking something with no artistic merit that will fade out as soon as the next example in that media steps up and takes the stage does not affect my intelligence, my work ethic, my morals. It does not change who I am as a person. If it changes your opinion of me, then to be perfectly blunt, your good opinion is not important to me.

Unfortunately here is where I lower myself to the level of those I'm speaking of. Anyone who judges a person based solely on their tastes in media, whether it be music, TV or books is someone I look down.

I am who I am. I like what I like what I like. If I liked everything you liked and for the same reasons I wouldn't be me. I'd be you.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Drama of the Week

I'd really hoped to share my thoughts on the new brand of romantic comedy, where the comedy comes first and the movie doesn't increase our expectations of unrealistic behaviour from the objects of affection in our lives, but I'm having a mild crisis at the moment.

This isn't unusual btw. There's always something going on that messes with my head. I've come to conclusion that my life is destined to be filled with some kind of bullshit and my coping mechanism – after tears. Chocolate and retail therapy – is to be ridiculously melodramatic about it. I try to keep things in perspective and to keep my sense of humour while carrying on about the drama of the week. Since Red and the Flake are yet to roll their eyes and say “Here we go again” I can only assume that I'm succeeding or at least, avoiding sounding like a drama queen.

Anyway, at the moment I'm feeling small and unimportant. Unfortunately, it's not in a cosmic “'how big the universe is and I'm barely a freckle on the arse of everything' way. It's a 'why does everyone find it so easy to overlook/forget/disregard me?' kinda crisis.

As I mentioned in the last post, since the move to Hometown from The City despite everyone claiming they were so excited to have me back or were going to miss me so much, none of them have made any effort. I reached a place a while ago where I decided that I was only going to return the effort that was put in. Perhaps not the most mature decision in the world, but honestly, why waste time with a one way friendship?

As an example, my former best friend, Miss Better than You , was unprepared to drive 90 minutes from Hometown to The City, but had no problem driving triple the distance as a day trip. Then there's the Sanctomummy, who is a great friend to have – as long as you make all the effort and don't actually expect anything of her. The tragic part is, she's cut a large number of people out of her life for not sitting around waiting for while she's captivated with the new boyfriend. Really, how dare someone not put their life on hold for her and being busy when she wants to make time? (I know how bitter that sounds. It's not meant to be.)

Now, I'm not a stupid person. I rate myself as being slightly above average in intelligence, but certainly nothing special. Yet, nobody ever seems to give me credit for knowing what I'm talking about. In fact, nobody seems to think I know what I want.

My 21st, I'm on the verge of moving out with The Fiancee and as has everyone else in my group of friends who's turned 21 before me, I want useful household things. Dinner sets, towels, sheets, a toaster, The kinda stuff you used to give as a wedding present, but since shacking up is now acceptable, is given on other occasions, Such as a 21st. So what awesome shit do I get? 2 wineglasses. (I don't touch the stuff. The giver knew that better than anyone else). A 3-cd pack. A fucking Sorting Hat, complete with a stuffed Hedwig. Yes, this was from my so-called closest friends. Honestly, the gift from a friend that I appreciated most was the $80 worth of bourbon shots that a guy I hung out with at school (and hadn't seen since) bought me.

What else? Setting up the nursery while pregnant with Mr 3 and insisting I did not want an armchair in there. The Fiancee kept insisting I did, as did the Mother In Law. Two days before my due date, I get a friend to push the damned thing out on the curb. End of it you'd think? Ah, but I don't know what I want remember? I get out of hospital and the fucking armchair is back in the nursery – which has been rearranged by the Mother In Law.

Testing borderline for gestation diabetes, looking up the details and telling The Fiancee “It's no big deal. I'll have to watch what I eat and it means a higher birth weight, so it'll increase the chance of a c-section. Let's not say anything till we do the second test and get a confirmed result.” He promptly talks to everyone he knows who's ever had a baby to find out what he can. THEN gets all sulky when I get mad and point out a) I already know what he's found out and TOLD him that and b)We'd agreed not to say anything till we got a definite result.

There's believing anyone but me. God forbid, I know what I'm talking about.

Red & her now-husband, wanting to buy a mini-motorbike for their 3yr old nephew and being told “He can ride it anywhere” by the seller. You can't. I knew this because I worked in the RTA at the time and had spent the better part of the last week handling phone calls about the laws. They argue with me because 'the shopkeeper said so'. So I bring home the information and she just looks at me and says “Well then why is he saying you can?” “Because he wants a sale.” And he's a douchebag who recognizes just how gullible you are.

Also while at RTA, The Fiancee informing me that to switch from an auto to manual drivers license you just have to tell them because 'that's how his best friend did his.' Never mind that was 5 years ago or I had dealt with people who didn't want to retest– his mate did it this way, so that was the way it was done.

If I was presenting something as fact without any sources, then yeah, definitely question me. But I don't. Even if relating an anecdote read somewhere, I make it very clear that I don't know how accurate the story is. I research urban legends and have pissed off more than one person who's enjoyed telling a 'true story' by pointing out that it's bullshit. And don't try and tell me that something I know is wrong, especially when you have nothing more to back it up than “So and so said.”

Next time: Superiority complexes and why you are not a better person than me