God, I’m handsome. Those of you who know me will attest to this. I’m so good-looking that it should be illegal. In fact, I’m amazed that I don’t face more prejudice based on my physical perfection like this cunt. She and I should form a support group for pretty people. It could also function as a dating service like BeautifulPeople.Com, the website for shallow, self-absorbed douchebags who can’t be bothered to say, “No, thanks” when propositioned by someone who doesn’t meet their standards. I guess what I’m trying to say is, ugly people should be shunned. You know, like in that one episode of The Twilight Zone where a deformed woman undergoes treatment for being so ugly. (Except that when the bandages come off, she turns out to be, by our standards, drop-dead gorgeous, but since she lives on a planet populated by pig-faced people, she is, to them, repulsive. By the way, if you haven’t seen that episode, don’t worry. It’s not that big of a spoiler.)
And while I’m on the topic of undesirables, I definitely think we need to start ostracizing hipsters. I don’t hate them per se, but they’re really, really annoying. Some people find hipsters amusing, but they’re pretty annoying, too. If you saw them walking towards you you’d probably cross the street just to avoid them. Hipsters poison everything. I’m talking about Matt Smith, the current Doctor Who, whose self-consciously quirky antics make me want to hang him from a crucifix by his own hair. Why does anybody like him? If anyone I knew acted like that, I’d murder them, and I don’t think the police would even bother to arrest me. In fairness to hipsters, I should say that I dislike the way that the term is becoming a catch-all for everyone whom one dislikes. We should reserve it for a very special class of people that we dislike so as not to offend other groups like child molesters and people who talk at the theater.
Even if I did like hipsters, I still wouldn’t like Matt Smith. I’ve never cared for the way that Doctor Who often apes current trends to the point where one can almost hear studio executives trading notes over what’s “in” right now. The 1970s gave us Jon Pertwee who, in keeping with the spirit of the times, was basically a cross between Sherlock Holmes and James Bond. Sherlock I can understand, but what has Bond got to do with the Doctor? He’s an amoral, womanizing cad who only works for the good guys because they offer him the chance to be the hero and use cool gadgets. How in God’s name is that not fundamentally at odds with the character of a moralistic, time-traveling alien who doesn’t care how many people praise his name so long as good triumphs over evil? Give me Christopher Eccleston any day. At least when he won, it felt like he’d earned it.
I think we live in an age in which, more than ever before, we’re focused on instant gratification. It’s always been a natural human trait to want something right here, right now, but the Internet takes that to ridiculous extremes. People “add” each other on Facebook after knowing each other for less than five minutes and look at videos of kittens because watching TV takes too much effort. Ask yourself, “Do I open up four or five windows every time I boot up my computer?” I do that, too. In an effort to provide the optimum level of stimulation, we’ve crowded up our minds to the point where only shifting gears every ten seconds can keep us interested. I don’t know about you, but I like it when something can hold my attention for several hours at a time. My favorite movies are often long ones—Lord of the Rings, Lawrence of Arabia, even Gone With the Wind, and as long as an author can find a story to tell rather than just stretching it out with volume after volume, I say that he can keep writing sequels for as long as he likes.
There are times when I feel like I was born into the wrong time. I might have been at home in Victorian England, a time at which it was still possible to sit for five minutes without hearing music blaring from the apartment next door or a plane overhead rattling the windows. Of course, it’s too late to do anything about that. Or is it? People can change. Sooner or later, it has to sink in that drowning oneself in technology is no way to go through life. There was a guy on my college campus who was always ranting and raving about how we’re all walking zombies who fuck our cellphones. I wanted nothing more than to ride by him on a Segway while talking on a Bluetooth and playing Angry Birds on my iPhone. The problem is that I own none of those devices. Also, he’d probably stab me.
Not all Internet memes are bad. Condescending Wonka is fucking hilarious. He’s kind of like Paul Krugman in that he’s always right, but nobody listens to him. (I feel sorry for that man.) Oh right, I’m supposed to be talking about how beautiful I am. Well, I am. So, you know, there’s that. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to watch Deep Space Nine. Did I tell you how glad I am that it ran for seven seasons?