Live From The Grayish Carpet

Life on the Other Side of Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll

Don’t Think Twice, or How to Survive the Internet



Anonymous, Hi!



 

Much like the band, my post about the Chili Peppers won’t go away.   It got kicked back into  circulation a few weeks ago,  this time because the Chili Peppers were on a list of artists a women’s advocacy group demanded Spotify remove from promotional playlists.  Outrage once again ensued.

I woke up one morning to an onslaught of insults.  As always,  I shrugged them off. People feel deeply connected to the bands they love, and who among us would not call a person who feels differently a disgusting, abhorred, disgraceful cunt?  It’s not surprising that people lash out when their heroes are discredited.  I find it odd that Chili Peppers fans are unaware of the band’s attitude toward women, given their history,  but I find it equally odd that they have fans in the first place, given their music. Of course, that’s only my opinion, and I am a disgrace to music, to greatness, and all of humanity.

I deal with the aggrieved citizens of the internet by pretending they don’t exist.  It’s both a choice and a necessity.  I don’t have the bandwidth to tune out strangers on the web when I’ve got real-life people to ignore.   It takes effort! I have to be careful not to miss out on joy because I’m engrossed in avoiding irritation, and I have to remember that if I look away from every annoyance,  I cast aside opportunities for delight.  Once  I was  so busy ignoring the millenials on 3rd Street that I almost missed seeing a guy in a Young the Giant t-shirt walk into a utility pole.   I can’t let that happen again.

I tried to be a person who doesn’t give a fuck.  I thought I pulled it off when I worked in the music industry, but I doubt I had anyone fooled –if you lose your shit over a secondary paper in a tertiary market misquoting Mike Ness, or regard anything related to Pearl Jam as critical, you suffer from an overabundance of fucks. Eventually I decided to accept that I am who I am, and I am calm only when sedated.  I’m sensitive to a fault, I  make mountains out of molehills,  and I sweat the small stuff hard.    I embraced the practice of not thinking and avoidance because not giving a fuck was out of reach.

I have yet to acquire the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,  so I flat-out don’t think about them.   The excruciating nature of existence, the unchangeable anguish of the past,  and the inexplicable skin around my  knees were early entries on my  list of things not to think about.   The list grows longer every day.  Thankfully, I  now dismiss the disturbing eventualities without conscious effort.   I’m convinced it’s a gift of evolution;  as our lifespan has increased, not thinking has become  instinctual, an intellectual mechanism to survive the  rigor of age.  It’s possible that I believe this because of a genetic predisposition to the memory loss symptomatic of Alzheimer’s Disease.

I realize that making more jokes about the Chili Peppers was unnecessary,  and I know I may have again angered their fan.   If that’s the case, I hope he leaves a comment!  I haven’t been called a disgrace since I was in my 20s,  and it’s a delight to feel young again.

 

2 comments on “Don’t Think Twice, or How to Survive the Internet

  1. I’m reading this and the original post due to a discussion on Bill Holdship’s FB page, and I’m stunned. Not by the fact that the members of the RHCP are scumbags. I decided that years ago. I’m stunned by the sheer number of victim blaming comments on your original post. I never realized just how prevalent this kind of behavior was, and not just in musicians, until the rise of social media. I thought that harassers, let alone rapists and other criminals, were the exceptions rather than the rule. Yes, I was pretty naive. Thank you for having the courage to tell your story. (BTW, I did especially love your snarky thank you’s to the very worst of the comments.)

    Liked by 1 person

    • Julie Farman
      June 7, 2018

      The comments on the original post were less brutal than the comments that appeared elsewhere. Reddit, of course, but also less obvious sites like the Huffington Post and Vulture. I feel only slightly courageous – my story is easier to tell than the stories about assault and rape. I have huge admiration and respect for the people that shared those stories and were willing go go through the inevitable hateful aftermath. (Thank you, sincerely.)

      Like

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This entry was posted on June 1, 2018 by in Life, Rock and Roll and tagged , , , , , .

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