A year ago.

Well, thanks to facebook fucking up in a weird way, a few of my messages I sent my friends from about a year ago are showing up in chat. I sent my friend Zach a line paper I wrote for my AP english class, in my senior year of high school. It is pertinent to music, so I'll post it here, with a preface.

I just finished my first semester at IUPUI, and to be fair, a lot of high school is a blur. The things that I loved, I've romanticized to the point that they did not really exist. I know I'm not getting the full college experience, but the past year, despite living at home and not really making a lot of new friends at school, has been one of the best years of my life. I've grown up and matured a bunch, and it shows in my character. I thank you all. Anyway, a line paper.

The record spins. Throughout time, throughout lives, and throughout minds. Spins. That record is the record that plays in our head, that lowly record that makes the song of ourselves seem realistic. There is noise in our signal though, atonal rubbish that pollutes the melodies of that record. That noise is negative influence, most importantly corporate influence. The trends and fads that are being forced down the throats of anyone who has a dollar to their name. Worst of all, corporate influence soon becomes social influence. That in turn becomes the social norms. The vicious cycle of consumerism ideals corrupts everyone eventually.
Advertising is unavoidable. Thanks to technology, celebrities can subtly advertise products and no one will be the wiser. Following a star’s twitter, lets you know nothing more about them then watching them in the new Coca-Cola commercial. Groups are no better then sheep, with the smart and the rich being the Sheppard. Guiding the herd of off the cliff to watch them fall senselessly to the rocks. Consumerism destroys.
With that anti-consumerist mind set in mind, a venture through life becomes painful. We watch sheep eternally fall off the cliff that is stupidity. Every generation worse off than that of their elder. Always. The youth will be headed to hell in a hand basket, and that has been the American mindset for the past few centuries. Like the rain of a hurricane, it stings.
How dare age predicate the maturity of an individual. How dare someone stand on a pedestal of “how things used to be.” Whining and regurgitating their pedantic prose to an audience of hellions. Or so it may seem.
Is this not the same thing that corporations are doing and have done forever?
The global corporations hit most by advancing technology and the influx of piracy retreat from advancement and whine. Blaming everyone but their selfish selves for the devastation to copyright laws. Companies outsmarted by a cardigan sweater wearing thirteen year old on his Macintosh Apple laptop listening to the new leaked Sonic Youth record in the highly trendy ironic fashion.
Well, maybe Generation Y will be the death of civilization as we know it. No healthcare for those that lack it, no more dehumanization predicated on race, sex, or gender, and most importantly no more time to waste. The cusp of change is here, it can be great or it can be horrible. The laziest generation.
So lazy that they can’t create their own styles of art, just perfect the ones from the past. So much so that the arts are being assaulted by a swarm of great up-and-coming masters of their respective crafts. Possibly due to the open-access approach of the internet, allowing people to get connected wirelessly with one another at every hour of the day.
That accessibility is the key. Everything is accessible at all hours of the day. Even things no one would have expected to exist. That is why this lazy generation has to watch their own tracks and make sure that they keep their Facebook status updates free from spontaneity. That is in the off-chance that one of these kids would choose to eventually lead the country.


Historically,
Wesley

P.s. I'll review a record tomorrow.