HAPPLES!?
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12/22/2002 - 4:34 a.m. | you don't even know what i'm talking about

When did "after 4" suddenly become an acceptable bedtime? A: When I got fucking stupid. Also Magic. I'm getting a little better, I think. Is this a source of pride? A: No, it is not.

Went to La Bamba with Spritz, Will, Kyle, and Allen. There was a "Death Race Invitational" in which Will raced Spritz and Allen back to Europa for $15. Spritz won - hell, he beat me and Kyle in the car - and Allen forgot he has asthma and practically killed himself along the way. I ate Tart 'n' Tinys. And man, do bubble gum cigarettes rock.

And now, the briefest of thoughts on music sharing. Not like Napster and crap - I'm quite the proponent of that (I tend to buy more than download), but like the music we share with others. I normally don't mind it when lots of other people know about the music I do. Less shit on the radio possibly. And it's fun to discuss how good (or bad) an artist is and sing with other people. But, while I can't control what people do with the music I inform them about isn't in my control (and that's good, I guess), there are some cases I would wish I hadn't passed the knowledge along.

Like, let's say you were this guy, and you really like Los Del Rios, especially the Macarena. So you play it for a friend, who immediately develops an idiotic dance for it. Soon the song (but more prominently, the dance) has spread across the nation. Total misuse of the song. I mean, everyone has a right to be creative, but God - that poor original guy! There was no dance! Where did this dance come from? Lots of people hated the Macarena, but he has them all beat. He watched as it changed from some nice art form into this massive viral piece of shit.

Now, the Macarena might not be the best example of an art form, but there is some really good stuff out there - lyrics and music - that might make you quiver. But to see it misconstrued would hurt an awful lot, I think. Bitterness would abound. Everyone has their freedoms, I know, but some are just crushing.

I won't be soothed,
Nate