See, I’ve got a theory, and it’s that we’re all possessed by this need to be special, to be different – to matter so much to the person we choose to be with that we eclipse all that came before and all who will come after.
Some feel nostalgia for high school, for college, for camps, for first loves or second houses or third spouses. Some wistfully want to go back to an era of protest and meaningful discourse, like the 1960s. And some even feel nostalgia for eras that haven’t ever existed—The Lord of the Rings is a good example.
It’s been seven years since I first heard of TV On The Radio, seven years since I got tickets to Last Call with Carson Daly—yes, that Carson Daly—just to see the band play, seven years since I fell for a group I never saw coming. They’ll be taking the stage Sunday night to close this year’s Pitchfork Music Festival, and I can’t help but think about watching the little art-rock-band-that-could grow into the arena-ready powerhouse they’ve become.
Text-speak has made it virtually impossible to get turned on anymore IRL, yet there are a few words that actually send icy chills of hatred down my spine. Gchat conversations can lead to romance. Think about that the next time you’re typing, and please, do everything in your power to avoid these three words/phrases.
None of it is a reflection on me—it doesn’t mean I am hot or special, I’m not a moron, I see right through all this eye sexing. What it means is that you’re a dirty pervert. Or maybe you’re just unable to control your innate sleaze.