I LOVE PSEUDO INTELLECTUALS

To me reading is a joy, because it often times allows me the luxury of learning things I was not previously aware of. I like to learn from people whom I feel have something to teach me, and I think almost everyone has something of a lesson they can teach others. I want to emphasize almost, because there is always a group of people that have nothing but shit to impart. I am sure you are likely wondering what I am talking about, and I shall now expound.

There are often times people who think that their opinion is the only one that counts. I am talking of course about people that love to talk about the lack of reality in reality, the true ills of ambition, the prostitution of society by technology, the ills of modern medicine, and the necessity to bathe naked in the cleansing waters of a dirty, amoeba filled lake. If you don't get the sarcasm then you are one of them, a pseudo intellectual.

I find it easy to spot pseudo intellectuals, they look at you in a manner that spells their indifferent superiority and superior lack of real confidence. A pseudo intellectual will likely mix Nietzche with Sheldon Cooper and talk about atheism being a manner of scientific belief on the gods of science. Yes I love the pseudo intellectuals because they entertain me. A pseudo intellectual will find over 100 explanations to one lie, and over 100 answers to a yes or no question. A pseudo intellectual is a lot like stepping on dog shit, you know you hate it but somehow it makes you laugh.

A lot of times pseudo intellectuals come about as the result of youth without experience or praise without real merit. College, books, retention without understanding, and bullshit, will never give you practical intellect or common sense. True gifts do not come from unproven ideas, and nonsense, and certainly have no relation to veganism and under arm hair. I am not saying that vegans are pseudo intellectuals but I am stating that a lot of pseudo intellectuals are vegans. Perhaps I am tired of every hippy wannabe assuming that they know life when truly the know very little about a whole lot.

The world needs clowns and fools and who better to entertain us than the pseudo intellectuals who, like clowns, are truly just sad individuals crying soulful, interior tears stemming from fear.

THAT TIME I WANTED TO PRODUCE PHAT BEATS

I have always loved music but I know my limitations in so far as making phat beats. I think it takes more than four months of training and the love of shiny clothing to be a phat beats producer extraordinaire. I wanted to test my theory by getting info on a program that offered four months of training for a nominal fee of nearly six thousand dollars. I started by submitting my name in the "name here" spot of the online questionnaire.

I made sure to explain my love of the phat beat online and once I did that, I patiently waited for a call. I decided to engage the person on the other line in a conversation where I spoke highly of acts like Boney M. I recall that the man I spoke to referred to himself as one of the top producers in town and a real strong hand in the business. I got the address to the studio and decided to go on and take the tour.

I began to wonder if this guy was as good as he told me or just someone who carried bags for guys like Ozzy and polished cars for The Thompson Twins and Kajagoogoo, back before Limahl had his breakout one hit wonder rebirth with Neverending Story. I somehow felt that this meeting was going to be a landmark event in my life. When I drove up I saw two solid doors and walked in, knowing that I would be shaken to the core of my very being.

I stepped into a studio that I am sure had been run by Phil Specter sometime in 1964. I saw a few gold records of some boy bands that were made primarily by a scheming fat man. The studio reeked of mothballs and it looked like it hadn't seen a broom or orgy in well over 25 years. I sensed that the equipment was not in tip top condition because the studio had lost its will to live sometime during the drug, sex, and rock n' roll fueled bicentennial of 76.' I realized the studio was like a time machine type place so my visit there made me one of the few individuals to engage in time travel.

I was no longer someone looking to make a phat beat, I was someone making grooves. The great producer showed up and he was a Gary Spivey look alike, except his hair was like a vomit color. The man wore a paisley shirt and had what appeared to be a sort of pencil drawn mustache. This man was not a phat beats maker, this man was a legend. I knew that he could teach me the ways of the Louisiana music Jedi, more commonly known as the Ledi. The meeting was brief but I knew that if I capture this man's mighty genius I would be set.

I would leave my spot in the past far too soon and would find myself disappointedly wondering why my trip had to end. Eventually, after about one minute, I realized that some people are full of shit, but they are intelligent enough to see a jackass a mile away. Music is a form of art that you don't just master in a matter of months or minutes, it takes years. I was told that you just need to know what sounds good in order to produce, bullshit. In order to make something great you have to know more than just one thing. We live in a world full of idiots but there are some that are smart enough to take advantage of others, which is why I can be a producer of phat beats in three easy steps.

WHY I ALWAYS HATED MILLI VANILLI

I never liked Milli Vanilli because I honestly could not understand how to German dudes could sound like they came from the depths of Motown. I remember when these dudes first burst on the scene everyone was going crazy. I was only ten in 89' when these guys burst on the scene and I just did not like them. All the girls went crazy for them and everyone wanted to sound like them but even back then I just got the feel that something was off about them.

The dudes were no doubt talented but that soul sound was just not right by any stretch of the imagination. Then I remember the big scandal where they had to return their grammy. As time passed and the story of Milli Vanilli took on a different shape altogether I felt bad for the two of them and I realized why I hated them. I was let down by the fact that they went along with a lie and allowed everyone to believe they were something that they really weren't.

I don't think about it now but back then it just bothered me that these two guys got a spot that they did not earn in any way shape or form. The guys could dance and the one that lived could actually sing. I think they would have been huge if they had actually been willing to put in the work required. I think Rob Pilatus maybe alive today if the whole Milli Vanilli thing hadn't happened. I guess this is what happens when two hapless idiots are given a golden key that they don't know how to manage. It's better to work and be ambitious than to be ambitious and totally ignorant.

Fuck you Interviewer

So I am sure you are wondering why such a harsh tittle for a blog and if you will allow me the courtesy of a read I will gladly elaborate. I hate interviewers as a general rule of thumb because they are idiots. I know it sounds like a generalization but follow my logic on this.

In most job descriptions they say that you need to have a personality that needs to bleed from your teeth. Your smile has to be such that the person must by blinded by your teeth's mother of pearl finish. What I think is funny about this whole mess is that usually the person interviewing you has zero personality. When they ask you questions they don't even bother to make eye contact and top of that their questions are barely audible. I love the fact that the questions they ask are the same no matter the interview. I have decided to make a list in order to illustrate and it reads as follows:

1. Give me an example of a time in which you took a leadership role
2. Give me an example of a time you made a mistake and had to correct it
3. What is your biggest strength?
4. What is your biggest weakness?
5. What are your hobbies?
6. Who do you look up to the most?
7. What is your biggest accomplishment? 
8. Where do you see yourself in 5 years?
9. Have you ever tipped a cow on its side? (Just checking to see if you are paying attention) 

I remember I was at an interview with the William Morris Agency and the guy interviewing me was looking down at his desk making hand motions likened to those of someone with a nervous condition. Never go into an interview with any sort of doubt or feeling of desperation. I recommend you go with head high and eyes level because chances are the idiot asking the questions is nothing more than an awkward simpleton with a tight rod up the ass.