Tuesday, April 18, 2006

the redemption song

Normally I'll sit here, write some nonsense about bands that the general public will forget about in a year, bash a few record labels, and we all have laughs. Rarely do I ever write about what goes on in my little heart, so that said, this post is one of those rare moments.

This morning I was watching the trailer for a documentary about California artist, David Choe. I've had these passing fascinations with the guy and his art since I randomly stumbled across him in a few issues of "Giant Robot," and later in "Dithers."

The trailer seemed to highlight Choe going from a street artists with a don't-give-a-fuck attitude to a legit painter. Prison time overseas may have been the catalyst for his change of heart.

More times than often, I feel like an asshole. Primarily because I probably am one. Don't get me wrong, there are people who I've hurt. Bad. And I'm deeply apoligetic about my actions and have pleaded for forgiveness more times than I'm willing to admit to. Then there are the people who I insult on a regular basis. Bands, coworkers, strangers. People who I'm rather relentless with when it comes to unleashing a storm of negative opinions. Which brings me to my moment of clarity, nay, redemption.

Am I capable of accepting that I've been so self-centered and overly critical that I can be a better person? The reality is I am capable to acceptance portion of it; there's going to be a long haul to be a better person.

I'm separated from some of my contemporaries by virtue of the fact that I realize that I'm a hypocrite, that I can be wrong, and that I am an asshole. Even with such foresight I don't do anything about it. I rarely sprinkle my writing (musically or reporting-wise) with any positive messages. If there's a band whose music I don't like, it's not simply "I don't like this band." I go for the jugular. I'm calling out their girlfriends, boyfriends, mothers, grandmothers, and babysitters. I can give you about a million reasons why I can be a harsh person, but it's nothing except for a bunch of Freudian mishmash.

I'm too far gone in my ways to stop doing what I do. Insulting people doesn't make me happy, but I can't say that it's not a perk of the version of me who is a writer.

So for this very, very brief moment in time (though it's possibly forever on the internet), I am issuing a simple apology to anybody who I may have hurt with my words.

I'm not going to lie and say that I will try to be a more uplifting writer who has virtue and blah, blah. I'm not a priest, pastor or reverend. If you want to know about morals and virtue, there are many avenues where those are available. There are only two people who's values I am responsible for (my kid and I, in case you were wondering). I'm here to write what's in my heart and give it the Ryan-esque gloss over in my head, because as I've stated many times before, that's how I do.


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