Heard from a friend that the cousin of a cousin twice removed has a friend with a neighbor (yeah, yeah... you know how convoluted grapevines are) who committed suicide after hearing the song Beautiful Girls. You know, that vapid song with the (repeated lyrics) "You got me suicidal, suicidal when you say it's over..."
Apparently, the poor kid was into something when he killed himself. Really, how big a brain do you have when a rather innocuous song about a village flirt can drive you nuts enough to kill yourself?
"What is the world coming to?" my friend, who was separated by at least four degrees from the kid, moaned. She was, like everyone else, blaming Sean Kingston for the pointless death of the poor kid.
Yeah. My heart breaks for the moron.
Talk about accountability. Or the lack of it. Blame pop culture for every single f*ck-up that has happened in some random kid's life. Blame an inane song for a suicide. Now, don't get me wrong. I have far less sympathies for the purveyors of pop, consumerist culture that have now turned everybody into zombies (Darn... George Romero is a visionary!), mindless drones that would make the Cher character in Clueless sound like Kafka. I do blame pop culture for the insidious ways it has employed to corrupt the minds of impressionable children.
But then again, we have a choice. Fight the system or be part of the herd.
Your choice.
I've made mine.
And no amount of Rihanna songs can convince me to put a shotgun in the head just because some beautiful boy says it's over.
Apparently, the poor kid was into something when he killed himself. Really, how big a brain do you have when a rather innocuous song about a village flirt can drive you nuts enough to kill yourself?
"What is the world coming to?" my friend, who was separated by at least four degrees from the kid, moaned. She was, like everyone else, blaming Sean Kingston for the pointless death of the poor kid.
Yeah. My heart breaks for the moron.
Talk about accountability. Or the lack of it. Blame pop culture for every single f*ck-up that has happened in some random kid's life. Blame an inane song for a suicide. Now, don't get me wrong. I have far less sympathies for the purveyors of pop, consumerist culture that have now turned everybody into zombies (Darn... George Romero is a visionary!), mindless drones that would make the Cher character in Clueless sound like Kafka. I do blame pop culture for the insidious ways it has employed to corrupt the minds of impressionable children.
But then again, we have a choice. Fight the system or be part of the herd.
Your choice.
I've made mine.
And no amount of Rihanna songs can convince me to put a shotgun in the head just because some beautiful boy says it's over.
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