One of the benefits of maintaining a weblog such as Flaming Pablum is the ability to share one's enthusiasm and affinity for certain things with similarly inclined individuals. The flipside of that same shiney coin is that the weblog can also handily act as a volcanic bully-pulpit from which one can venomously decry fatuous idiocy in its myriad forms. In the spirit of the latter, may I present to you the following list of that which, to my mind, indefensibly sucks. They are itemized in no particular order -- some of the points cited below might suck way more than others, but that has no bearing in their ranking.
1. Blackberries - While it's true that I am unfortunately allergic to virtually every conceivable variety of fruit available on the planet outside of the banana, this is not about the fruit in question. I have no grievance with the bulbous little berry from which the diabolical little device I'm talking about stole its name. I'm talking about that addictive electronic pacifier which now has a stranglehold on the general public. In the building where I work, it is impossible to step on an elevator without seeing four or five people hunched over, busily fiddling with their Blackberries like crack-addled sea otters, feverishly checking their e-mail -- despite the fact that they just stepped away from their respective desks ONLY SECONDS EARLIER! Get a grip, people. Get some fresh air and go to lunch, for cryin' out loud. Your e-mail can wait a few minutes.
2. Spring Allergies - Despite the fact that it's still as cold as the goddamn grave outside (March is taking its sweet assed time morphing from Lion to Lamb this year), my annual melee with the surging tiny armies of pollen spores has evidently begun, and I'm imbibing Claritin with the sweaty tenacity of a junkie. If I could change one solitary aspect of my physical being, I wouldn't ask to be taller, better lookin', stronger, to have more hair or to be similarly more endowed in some capacity -- I'd wish to NEVER HAVE TO SUFFER FROM AN ALLERGY EVER AGAIN. Seriously, it makes life a facsimile of Hell.
3. The indie band, Wilderness - One of my co-workers -- a gent of otherwise unimpeachable taste and musical knowledge -- has taken to putting a disc by Baltimore indie rock band, Wilderness in regular rotation out of his computer. The music's inoffensive enough (one might even suggest unexceptional) , but the band's vocalist boasts a yawning, hoary, blustery wail that is indistinguishable from a drunk Captain Haddock from the Tintin comics. I'd like to think I'm reasonably open-minded when it comes to music that pushs the envelope, challenges convention and parts from the norm, but why anyone would consciously choose to listen to this band is beyond me. Still, I suppose I'd rather hear Wilderness than suffer through even a fleeting nanosecond of....
4. Reggaeton - Ostensibly, Latin Hip Hop from Puerto Rico with a Reggae styling. This stuff makes me want to saw off my own ears, dip them in a white wine sauce and feed them to rabid jackals. The mere existence of Reggaeton is the most solid argument I've ever heard for the banning of all sound recording equipment. And don't be fooled -- I like a bit of Reggae and I like a bit of Hip Hop, but this stuff is just a freakin' abomination. Oh, and evidently Jennifer "taste, quality, distinction & class" Lopez is producing a documentary on it later this year. I'm sincerely hoping that the four horsemen of the apocalypse arrive first.
5. The needless technological advance of the iPod - As I've lamented elsewhere on this weblog, I'd been having a bit of a problem with my now out-of-date (and unavailable) iPod's inability to cooperate, much less accomodate my wholly unreasonable musical needs. Being that I've amassed an entirely ridiculous and embarassing amount of compact discs over the years, my 40 gig iPod (which, purportedly, holds 10,000 songs) was simply unable to contain the lot, much less function effectively when I'd maxed out its payload. I was constantly having to go in and remove stuff from it to accomodate any new stuff. The wear'n'tear was starting to get to it. Comparatively workaday tasks like playing a selection of Cocteau Twins tunes were making it wheeze and splutter as if a drunkenly horned-out varsity lacrosse team had just rudely had its way with it. Clearly, it was time to upgrade. But now, all the new iPods come clogged with all sorts of superfluous bells and whistles. Who honestly needs to be able to view photographs and videos on a screen the size of a post-it note? Why couldn't they just add more memory to simply hold more music? Is that such a ludicrous request? I don't need an iPod to open my garage door or make long distance calls or watch a film or mow my lawn or do my taxes or land a goddamn plane -- WHAT WAS SO WRONG WITH IT JUST PLAYING MUSIC?
6. The Abject Idiocy of the Bush Administration - PICK A REASON!
7. Kevin Clash (a.k.a. The Guy Who Provides the Voice of Elmo) - I'm sure he's a nice guy with a big heart and a kind word for all, but as far as I'm concerned, this shrill-voiced puppeteer has earned himself his own private circle in Hell and my ETERNAL SCORN for blighting this cursed, tormented earth as the voice of the cloyingly insipid vermin that is ELMO.
8. Matisyahu's Faux-Jamaican Accent - Much like the vile Kevin Clash cited above, I'm sure self-styled Hasidic Reggae blowhard, Matisyahu (actual name, Matthew Miller) is an awfully nice gent with a heart squarely in the right place, but I'm sorry, unless you're Sting circa 1979, DON'T ADOPT A JAMAICAN ACCENT IF YOU'RE NOT ACTUALLY JAMAICAN! I have no quibble with his message and I'm sure his intentions are entirely noble, but the only way this reformed Phish-fan could possibly be a BIGGER POSER would be if his name was John Walker Lindh. Come back, Snow, all is forgiven.
9. "Soy Turkey" - There's a vegetarian restaurant in my neighborhood that features items like "Soy Turkey" and "Soy Ham" on its menu. Look, speaking as an unapologetic carnivore, here's the deal: as a vegetarian or vegan, you don't get to taste Turkey and Ham and whatnot, so don't pretend to. You have forfeited that option, so conduct yourselves accordingy. Have the moxie to stand by your convictions and eat your dull, tasteless sprouts and tofu and be happy about it. In fact, hell, why not really take the next step and have your incisors excised as well? But eating this mock-meat just makes you a lightweight.
10. "PLEASE SWIPE AGAIN" - This little three-word combination is unchallenged in its ability to inspire my needlessly expletive-laden wrath, especially when accompanied by the tell-tale rumble under foot of the "N" train I'm invariably going to be missing. It's not even the fact that it's making me late -- it's the inefficiency of it. I don't know if it's because of the flimsiness of the Metro Cards or becaues of some glitch in the system, but suffice to say -- this sorta crap never happend with the tokens!
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