Like.... totally! Whatever! hehe
April 12th 2007 19:37
Subtitle: An opinionated suggestion from one irrelevant stoner.
Hello all,
Now, it may be because tonight I have done more types of drugs in a single evening than I have ever even come close to (i'm on 5 different (not like vodka vs tequila different either, I mean more speed compared to heroin type, real difference), but I was thinking. I was thinking hard.
And the subject of my thought was stereotypical cheerleader types, the oft mocked blondes, the apparent imbiciles of society. Exactly how this thought came into my mind... well, I am chopped as fuck, it could have come from anywhere.
Oh god I need music. Wait...
Ok and we're back, problem solved. As I was saying... um, what was I saying? Oh yeah, I remember.
Cheerleaders, as portrayed in 'Bring it On' and other poor attempts to hijack visiual media (when was the last 'perfect movie', something Hitchcock-esque, where you just sat and admired it as a work of art [other than 300, that movie is the king shit{yeah so what i can use 3 sets of brackets, how cool am I}]) were the subject of my ruminations. More specifically, in these movies, how the cheerleader always had some suppressed urges that she had, well, suppressed, in order to try and 'fit in' with her chosen clique. And all of the internal turmoil these suppressions had inflicted on their teenage soul.
Well, ladies and gents, I do a couple of psych courses, (startsarcasm) which in today's world makes me a professional psychiatrist, because I'm a know it all teenaged brat with nothing better to do than rant (/endsarcasm) [just in case sarcasm is a little too complicated for y'all, you never know with internet readers]
This is a classic example of Cognitive Disonance. To illustrate what cognitive dissonance is, let me use an example. An extreme one.
You have an awesome paying job, when your boss calls you over to his house. You arrive, and he is holding a little baby. He says "i will continue to employ you only if you kick this baby over the fence". So, naturally, you do it, because every uni brat that accidentally knocks up his girlfriend and drops out, because that's what we all do... knows babies are worth so much less than money (endsarcasm)
Now, personally I wouldn't give it any second thought, but according to my research some amongst you are bothered by a psychological phenomenon that guides you towards what you think is right and just (and boring).... and that, kiddos, is called a conscience. Many of you may have a conscience, even if you do not know it. They can lay dormant for many years before they rear their ugly head and ruin your life. So yes, you poor souls who have this affliciction, you might feel kind of bad for kicking a baby over a fence. Your own actions act in accordance with the morals of the organization to whom you beling instead of your personal morals, and this causes you to feel bad, resulting in decreased morale, which can in turn result in absenteeism, resentment and even departure from the organization in more extreme cases.
Well, in this case the organization is the 'cheerleader' clique (I apologize for my blatant discrimination against cheerleaders, I have nothing against you athletic short skirted godesses, just the general stereotype of cheerleaders perfectly matches the type of person I am ranting about), and the morals of the clique will be determined by a multitude of factors, such as general consensus, pop-culture influences (a huge on in this case, think about how girls change their behaviour because that's what Paris Hilton did), etc. No girl has this exact set of morals. If Hollywood has taught me anything, it's that cheerleaders are vindictive bitches except for the two gorgeous outsiders who teach the hardened and heartless cheerleading squad compassion, and this ALWAYS involves a very raunchy lesbian cheerleader scene. At least it does in the Hollywood movies I choose to see.
Anyways, no girl has these exact morals. So, in order to gel with group, they act against their own morals, even if in a little way. For example "oh, I would treat myself to an ice cream, but my friends are here and they would see me and point out my calory intake. I hate my friends". This results in cognitive disonance, which is bad.
Now, my general statement. More of a plea really. This diatribe has been long and arduous to read no doubt, and I can't really help that because I am still fucked, but there is a point.
THis point, I will illustrate with my life story, which I think I've already written out here somewhere because only Orble knows of the torment that is my life and how I am deserving above all of the other billion plus bloggers out there of your attention, your respect, and you clicking on my ad links so I can make 20 cents (endsarcasm).
I used to be incredibly conscious of what people thought of me. Now, age 20, I can't even remember what it is like to feel that kind of pressure. I can also remember a distinctive turning point.
We were at a shisha bar, teenagers getting boozed up and ready for a heavy night on the piss. I had ordered the chicken tika masala, i remember this because it's the best dish they have at that place and the only dish i would order. And I spilled some of the sauce (a lot of the sauce) on my shirt. It was a dark shirt, but if you looked closely you could see a wetish patch. I even sucked the fucking sauce ouf of my shirt as much as I could, but I couldn't get it all out.
My friends noticed me trying to fix my shirt. At first they thought it was fair enough because no one wants to walk around with sauce all over their shirt. But as it wore on, one turned to me and just said 'dude, what are you doing?' I replied with something like "dude, look at this, people will think I'm a pig."
To which I received one of the most profound replies. Ever.
"dude, who gives a fuck what other people think you look like?"
That single phrase, that statement made in passing, has shaped my life from that day since. I couldn't think of a good reply, until I realized there WASN'T a good reply. It was a perfectly valid point. I examined my own behaviour, and decided I was going to start doing what I felt like doing, and not what I thought would help me fit in better or get other peoples' respect. I still do stupid shit for respect, dares and such, but it's a different kind of respect.... if you know what i mean.
And, since that day, I have been far happier. Words cannot express how much I prefer being the me I am now compared to the me I was then. I was always the one who laughed after someone had already started laughing, I only told jokes I already knew were funny for fear of them failing, I always made the comments that agreed with a statement, never the conversation-instigating statement itself.
Well, today I tell jokes, and among them are a lot of shit ones. I laugh alot, at everything, and I don't mind laughing alone. I talk a lot of shit without regards for the consequences, and I really do like to say exactly what is on my mind. I don't beat around the bush much... and I think this is the only way to do things.
As I was saying, there is a point to this ramble. My plea, to anyone who lives as I did. As a slave to the consensus, ruled by opinions and trapped. You can shake off your shackles. You can be yourself.
Trust me. I was incredibly lucky to be friends with a great group of guys at the time. While part of that group... I came out of my shell. I learned how to be me, not the mark ruled by what people thought. And as I changed, they accepted who I was. Hell, I reckon they liked me better, but I digress.
If your friends are truly your friends, then they shouldn't factor into this consideration. They will stick by you as you find yourself, Paris Hilton is not the bible of how to live your life, you are. Do what you believe in, and you will discover what it's really like to be you.
So.... what're you waiting for? Be yourself, people. Be happy in who you are.
P.S. I know that probably reads really, really badly, but I am really fucked. I did speed, E and pot tonight, but on top of that I drank a shitload, and I had some prescription painkillers which just made the alcohol into euphoria.... and I am still off my chops. Man, this is gonna be funny to read in the morning.
fuck it's 5.30... it's already morning. Good Mornin', y'all. Night.
pps. haha i can't believe how much I wrote. So chopped.
Hello all,
Now, it may be because tonight I have done more types of drugs in a single evening than I have ever even come close to (i'm on 5 different (not like vodka vs tequila different either, I mean more speed compared to heroin type, real difference), but I was thinking. I was thinking hard.
And the subject of my thought was stereotypical cheerleader types, the oft mocked blondes, the apparent imbiciles of society. Exactly how this thought came into my mind... well, I am chopped as fuck, it could have come from anywhere.
Oh god I need music. Wait...
Ok and we're back, problem solved. As I was saying... um, what was I saying? Oh yeah, I remember.
Cheerleaders, as portrayed in 'Bring it On' and other poor attempts to hijack visiual media (when was the last 'perfect movie', something Hitchcock-esque, where you just sat and admired it as a work of art [other than 300, that movie is the king shit{yeah so what i can use 3 sets of brackets, how cool am I}]) were the subject of my ruminations. More specifically, in these movies, how the cheerleader always had some suppressed urges that she had, well, suppressed, in order to try and 'fit in' with her chosen clique. And all of the internal turmoil these suppressions had inflicted on their teenage soul.
Well, ladies and gents, I do a couple of psych courses, (startsarcasm) which in today's world makes me a professional psychiatrist, because I'm a know it all teenaged brat with nothing better to do than rant (/endsarcasm) [just in case sarcasm is a little too complicated for y'all, you never know with internet readers]
This is a classic example of Cognitive Disonance. To illustrate what cognitive dissonance is, let me use an example. An extreme one.
You have an awesome paying job, when your boss calls you over to his house. You arrive, and he is holding a little baby. He says "i will continue to employ you only if you kick this baby over the fence". So, naturally, you do it, because every uni brat that accidentally knocks up his girlfriend and drops out, because that's what we all do... knows babies are worth so much less than money (endsarcasm)
Now, personally I wouldn't give it any second thought, but according to my research some amongst you are bothered by a psychological phenomenon that guides you towards what you think is right and just (and boring).... and that, kiddos, is called a conscience. Many of you may have a conscience, even if you do not know it. They can lay dormant for many years before they rear their ugly head and ruin your life. So yes, you poor souls who have this affliciction, you might feel kind of bad for kicking a baby over a fence. Your own actions act in accordance with the morals of the organization to whom you beling instead of your personal morals, and this causes you to feel bad, resulting in decreased morale, which can in turn result in absenteeism, resentment and even departure from the organization in more extreme cases.
Well, in this case the organization is the 'cheerleader' clique (I apologize for my blatant discrimination against cheerleaders, I have nothing against you athletic short skirted godesses, just the general stereotype of cheerleaders perfectly matches the type of person I am ranting about), and the morals of the clique will be determined by a multitude of factors, such as general consensus, pop-culture influences (a huge on in this case, think about how girls change their behaviour because that's what Paris Hilton did), etc. No girl has this exact set of morals. If Hollywood has taught me anything, it's that cheerleaders are vindictive bitches except for the two gorgeous outsiders who teach the hardened and heartless cheerleading squad compassion, and this ALWAYS involves a very raunchy lesbian cheerleader scene. At least it does in the Hollywood movies I choose to see.
Anyways, no girl has these exact morals. So, in order to gel with group, they act against their own morals, even if in a little way. For example "oh, I would treat myself to an ice cream, but my friends are here and they would see me and point out my calory intake. I hate my friends". This results in cognitive disonance, which is bad.
Now, my general statement. More of a plea really. This diatribe has been long and arduous to read no doubt, and I can't really help that because I am still fucked, but there is a point.
THis point, I will illustrate with my life story, which I think I've already written out here somewhere because only Orble knows of the torment that is my life and how I am deserving above all of the other billion plus bloggers out there of your attention, your respect, and you clicking on my ad links so I can make 20 cents (endsarcasm).
I used to be incredibly conscious of what people thought of me. Now, age 20, I can't even remember what it is like to feel that kind of pressure. I can also remember a distinctive turning point.
We were at a shisha bar, teenagers getting boozed up and ready for a heavy night on the piss. I had ordered the chicken tika masala, i remember this because it's the best dish they have at that place and the only dish i would order. And I spilled some of the sauce (a lot of the sauce) on my shirt. It was a dark shirt, but if you looked closely you could see a wetish patch. I even sucked the fucking sauce ouf of my shirt as much as I could, but I couldn't get it all out.
My friends noticed me trying to fix my shirt. At first they thought it was fair enough because no one wants to walk around with sauce all over their shirt. But as it wore on, one turned to me and just said 'dude, what are you doing?' I replied with something like "dude, look at this, people will think I'm a pig."
To which I received one of the most profound replies. Ever.
"dude, who gives a fuck what other people think you look like?"
That single phrase, that statement made in passing, has shaped my life from that day since. I couldn't think of a good reply, until I realized there WASN'T a good reply. It was a perfectly valid point. I examined my own behaviour, and decided I was going to start doing what I felt like doing, and not what I thought would help me fit in better or get other peoples' respect. I still do stupid shit for respect, dares and such, but it's a different kind of respect.... if you know what i mean.
And, since that day, I have been far happier. Words cannot express how much I prefer being the me I am now compared to the me I was then. I was always the one who laughed after someone had already started laughing, I only told jokes I already knew were funny for fear of them failing, I always made the comments that agreed with a statement, never the conversation-instigating statement itself.
Well, today I tell jokes, and among them are a lot of shit ones. I laugh alot, at everything, and I don't mind laughing alone. I talk a lot of shit without regards for the consequences, and I really do like to say exactly what is on my mind. I don't beat around the bush much... and I think this is the only way to do things.
As I was saying, there is a point to this ramble. My plea, to anyone who lives as I did. As a slave to the consensus, ruled by opinions and trapped. You can shake off your shackles. You can be yourself.
Trust me. I was incredibly lucky to be friends with a great group of guys at the time. While part of that group... I came out of my shell. I learned how to be me, not the mark ruled by what people thought. And as I changed, they accepted who I was. Hell, I reckon they liked me better, but I digress.
If your friends are truly your friends, then they shouldn't factor into this consideration. They will stick by you as you find yourself, Paris Hilton is not the bible of how to live your life, you are. Do what you believe in, and you will discover what it's really like to be you.
So.... what're you waiting for? Be yourself, people. Be happy in who you are.
P.S. I know that probably reads really, really badly, but I am really fucked. I did speed, E and pot tonight, but on top of that I drank a shitload, and I had some prescription painkillers which just made the alcohol into euphoria.... and I am still off my chops. Man, this is gonna be funny to read in the morning.
fuck it's 5.30... it's already morning. Good Mornin', y'all. Night.
pps. haha i can't believe how much I wrote. So chopped.
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Comment by Anonymous
Comment by KylieW
Celebrity Obsession
Hey, you're incredibly lucky to have the realisation that you don't have to care what others think at such a young age. It takes most of us years to figure that out!!
Nice example on the cognitive dissonance. I majored in Psych and uni and would have trouble explaining it easily!
Kylie