Most of us born in the 80s tend to have grandeurs of eloquence. We believe the rest of humanity is a lump of turd, that it is somehow beneath us to even have some attributes in common with them. It is always us vs. them. Heaven forbid if we should ever share a taste in music or clothes. That would be sacrilege. As Motley Crue once famously put it, "The biggest career gaffe that we could ever make was getting caught having a glass of milk." Perhaps they did not put it quite this articulately with all the booze and drugs getting in the way of their coherence but you get the drift.

The 80s was all about excess. Rock n Roll excess, Metal excess, and even bad hair excess. For all that us 80s progenies make a fuss over, the one thing we completely disown is the decade's sense of style. We lean more towards 90s grunge styling. It is a reflection of the times that we live in - contradictions are everywhere.

The latter half of the 20th Century can be described musically. Elvis Presley ruled the 50s. It was all about The Beatles in the 60s. Def Leppard rocked the 70s. Michael Jackson was the king of the 80s. That MJ managed to carve out a throne for himself atop the metal mania is a feat in itself. Of course, for us 80s borns MJ's music is beneath us. Hypocrisy? No. That is what our trait is. As I often keep saying, you do not begrudge a Scorpion for its sting.

As the 80s gave way to the 90s and then to the 00s, 80s borns entered their teens and their adulthood. Ironic isn't it that not a single artist / band stands out in the last two decades? Oh there has been an explosion of 'artists'. Either none has been good enough to rule the roost or we are a screwed up generation that does not know what it wants.

Of course, if you ask most of us metal heads we will tell you that music died with Kurt Cobain's suicide. The bands we listen to even today belong to 80s and before - Quiet Riot, Metallica, Megadeth, Motley Crue, Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Twisted Sister, to name a few. We wear our taste in music almost as proudly as a mother displays her child's trophies on the mantle piece. Unlike a mother though, looking down on someone who listens to a Britney or a Mariah is a given. Today's pop culture makes us cringe.

Being as I am, a result of the 80s, I believe we had our Concorde moment in music in the 80s. For the uninitiated, a Concorde moment is one where mankind reaches the pinnacle of its achievement - ever since the Concorde no passenger aircraft has been built that can fly supersonic, and perhaps none ever will be. It is all downhill from there.

Current Mood: Gloomy
Current Music: Posion - Every Rose has its Thorn
There are two important things in life. I can't quite recall what they are but they most certainly are two in number. But that is besides the point. There is no point. I never indulge in the frivolous exercise of making points. What's the point in that? Even this God person created the universe pretty pointlessly. Some of us believe in God. Some of us don't. To each their own. I believe there is a God. I just don't believe in Her (yes, God is a woman).

As I sit somewhere along the equator where summer and winter have as much meaning as lilac and violet have for a heterosexual male, I ponder over the miracle of life, the futility of death, and the sheer ecstasy of adultery. 'Adultery' is not the same as 'adulteration' the same way 'women's suffrage' is not the same as 'women's suffering'. It is funny (and excruciatingly annoying at the same time) how many people get words all mixed up. This is probably why capital punishment is still a reality. Bad vocabulary is reason enough to be executed. That, and making a personal diary out of a blog.

My disregard for those whose blogs are nothing better than a journal is public knowledge. I am not interested in some woman's sordid love life, choice of dildo, or leather fetishes when in all probability it is a man masking behind the anonymous wall of the internet making those entries. Don't ask me how I know this. I just do. You would feel the same way about divulging your sources of information if you had been there on that dark and stormy night. And since I am not a dog named Snoopy, my dark and stormy night stories don't necessarily have happy endings.

Time for some reflection. At least as much reflection as this space can possibly permit. The previous year has been a weird one. I got married. The frequency of my blog posts went up. And Aran refused to guest edit Cosmopolitan. Well, she would have refused had she been offered but you get the point without my ever having to make it. Does it mean that the best points are the ones that are never made? Perhaps...

Current Mood: Gloomy
Current Music: David Bowie - The Man who Sold the World
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