RE: "What Happens When They Grow Out Of Barney?"

I just finished reading a blog by a woman named Jessie Newburn (@JessieX on Twitter) who tried, and seemingly failed, to comment on my generation (Generation Y).

Check out the original blog to see what I'm talking about.

Just like I will never truly understand quantum mechanics, "GenX" will never get Generation Y. Why? Well, we had much different experiences during our lives because the world was different from yours. For example, I really know nothing about Ronald Regan, Kim Campbell, or the cold war. And GenX was there for all that. And the world climate helped shape who they are because it affected their parents and their world because they were of an age where they could understand it.

In 1992, around the time of Barney the dinosaur, I was six years old. And in 1992, life for a six year old Canadian was pretty good. I really liked Barney. Barney, it turns out, is the creation of Sheryl Leach, a baby boomer and former teacher.

The climate I grew up in, in the 1990's, was one that was trying too hard to be politically correct and make sure no one got hurt. The same climate that made Barney possible. It also was the environment that spawned (and spoke out against) "Mortal Kombat," "Ren and Stimpy," and "Rocko's Modern Life." Cartoon violence reached a peak in the 90's, and then was quickly done with shortly after.

The GenX-ers who raised Generation Y tried really hard to take an active role in parenting, because during their youth life got a lot scarier, crime soared, etc. These young parents brought this on to my Generation. The social climate that allowed all of the advocate groups and stingy media regulations that we have now are a result of the previous generation's over-compensation to create a less cynical and troublesome world that they were used to.
But the truth of the matter is that Generation Y's world was better before they messed with it. Because the baby boomers said, "oh, we screwed it up... OOPS!"

And therefore, Barney was what he should have been and nothing more: "treat people nice and sing a song once in a while." That was the thesis of the show.

GenX got involved and tried to make the world uber-good after that. So Generation Y was deprived of a world where we had to form our own opinions. That cynicism GenX is known for? Generation Y lacks. And if we seem cynical, its purely ironic cynicism. Our cynicism is a comment on how cynical the rest of everybody is, and that it's a bad reaction.

Irony is the cynicism of my generation. Because in the world that was manufactured for us, all we could do is sit back and watch everyone everywhere over-react. Just because grandpa was in 'Nam a little too long, a little blood in a video game is shocking?
Please, GenX, get a grip on yourself.

I'm smrt because I can embed!

Usually I try to have good spelling in my titles. However, I was aiming for irony.

QR Code Speaks The Truth!

"About Tree-Fiddy"

Recently I discovered, by way of a friend, a website that sums up a Twitter account to a monetary value. This website (that I can't remember right now) summed my account (@Absurdist_Mason) to a low, low amount. Higher than about $3.50, but still embarrassingly low.

Therefore, I implore you dear reader, please follow, mention, re-tweet and interact with me on Twitter! I think it's bad to be "about tree-fiddy" on Twitter :(

Absurdist Rap

The following was constructed while listening to white-boy rap and thinking about the absurdity of Eminrm being singled out for misogyny and saying generally negitive things when, really, it seems like more of a package to reach the hearts and minds of people who think like that with a really positive message about responsibility, standing up to do what's right, being a good father and etc.

Because if high school taught me anything, it's that in order to reach little woman-hating bastards, you kinda have to talk like them.



This is the most politically correct rap about absurdism ever:
Yo, yo,
Oedipus, motha fucker. (Because he was).

I'm gonna sit here & look around
Look up & down & in the lost 'n found
Because a search for meaning has no meaning
We're floating around & feeling
Just not feeling the breasts
When you say, "take a rest"
Unless I get an invite to your chest

It's a rap in a blog exploring philosophy
But a philosophy that's tripped out on some "E"
Like The Beatles when they dug the pony
Don't try to debate it
You can't relate it
My teacher couldn't grade it
Yeah

So you look back at me with an itch
I look back & say, "shut up, bitch"
Because my mutt is barking like it's rich
Head out of the window with gold rims
Playing some Zoot Sims
Thinking about the hymns

Making sense yet?
No? Then you got a fence pet
And you keep it in you mind-- hence, let
Me in and blow your pet away
Let your mind go stray

Because framed in a world with no grand meaning
"Random" becomes less common & more reeling
Coincidences stand alone-- they aren't kneeling
To a grand design or over-powering feeling
It makes more things possible & more things funny



My lyrical skills are probably rusty. I also didn't think about this for more than an hour. However, if you have rap "skillz," I encourage you to record it, tape it or whatever. Lay some beats down, perhaps? If you do, be sure to let me know... give me the link? Just be sure to credit me as "writer" (it's only fair and it'd be a real dick move if you didn't).

Well, this is the end of another absurdist blog by Mix Master Mason.
Wiki-wiki, yeaahhh...!

Today...

Today my social media teacher wanted me to write a blog with three hyperlinks.

Again, there was no quantifying of content he wished us to speak about. I took that to mean, "logic and sense are optional."
Therefore I'm quite pleased.

He was wearing a shirt with the letters "DYS" that confused me.
Well, I'm a resourceful member of Generation Y, so I looked it up and Wikipedia suggested many different meanings for it. Wikipedia turned out to be wrong. An encyclepedia with thousands of contributors, and there is no mention of the podcast that the shirt promotes.



Shortly after starting to write, I got bored, and started thinking about melting things. Like melting people. Sort of like the time Michael Jackson lost his nose, which I think had something to do with being an alien. Or sneezing too hard. One of the two.

Top 5.5 Reasons Not To Go To Sleep RIGHT NOW

1. A naked (or otherwise uncomfortably heavier-than-you-can-take) person is lying on top of you
2. The rivals of a team you cheer for will (or have just) spontaneously combust(ed) &/ or confessed to a grievous misdoing.
3. King Arthur, re-animated as a head in a jar, decrees that--
4. Science makes it possible to poop ice cream (like those girls in that video with the cup)
5. Dennis Rodman is proven to be reincarnations of Jesus, Mohammed and Buddha. After which peace between the respective religions is discovered to still be impossible because he then admits he hates himself.
6. Canada burned down the White House. Again. 

A Blog Dedicated To My Social Media Teacher

Kissing ass is a very delicate art.

If you're too obvious about it, it makes the other person uncomfortable. Especially if they are gassy. The trick is to bend quickly from both the hips and knees, and position your feet as if you were about to propose to their backside, do the deed and then use the momentum from the downward motion to move forward & away very quickly.




So when-- for example-- a teacher gives an assignment that would lend itself easily to kissing ass easily, its important to casually mention to the students interests of yours, political opinions you hold & other useful bits of information to help the process.

Or else you could get something like this, which is unstructured and random.


After all, "Hamlet" may teach you to appreciate literature, but a 16-year-old will only see words, words, words.

Top 10 Things On My Mind At This Moment In No Particular Order (7:41pm 09/27/2010)

1. What do kittens taste like, perhaps in a soup?
2. Could I take Michelangelo (the artist and the ninja turtle) in a death match?
3. Oompa-Loompas seem kinda creepy.
4. Why the hell is a woodchuck throwing wood in the first place?
5. I really want a sandwich.
6. A salad would be nice. Maybe with chicken in it.
7. I've been farting a lot today. I feel sorry for anyone who gets stuck in an elevator with me.
8. Who goes there? It is I, Arther, son of Uthor Pendragon of the Castle Camelot!
9. I shouldn't have had clam chowder in that dive made by that dirty looking dude.
10. #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9, #9.

Billy, The Depressed Caterpillar.

Billy was a happy caterpillar.

Everyday, he would wake up with a great smile, crawl on the branch he called home, and ate lots of apples like Richard Scary said he should. Billy's life was, generally speaking, good.

I mean, Billy could stand to lose a little weight, or get a better job, but then again, it's not like he's Jesus the caterpillar.

So Billy lived his like this in great contentment until one day he met a beautiful girlie black widow with a really huge thorax.

You should have seen the size of her thorax. It was awe inspiring.

He met her on a sunny day on a discarded child's lollypop. The child, called "Cindy" now because she's in the witness protection program, lost it in a fight with a boy who aggravated her by pulling her hair. She retaliated by punching him in the nose, pinning him down as she beat him around the face with a bag of oranges and then removed one and a half of his testicles with a wooden spoon.

Some wonder why she changed identities so often.

So Billy met this lady spider and nicknamed her "Blackie." She thought it was sweet, because her exoskeleton was predominately black (and it made him seem observant) but what she didn't know is that Billy was also a Confederate racist. But since Lucy, which was the spider's real name, was part of a younger generation, the term no longer held its racist meaning because she was tolerant and accepting. The racist version of the word also happened to be a bit dated so she never heard it in a derogatory sense before and since the world was a more tolerant place than it was 50 years ago, there was no problem.

None-the-less, Billy proved to be a very sweet caterpillar to Lucy, even if he was an intolerant jackass. Not to say that such nicknames should be accepted from people, but Billy was a racist caterpillar and also not human.

When they finally started dating, though, Lucy turned into a bitch. She nagged him, called him a fat example of phallic imagery, and wouldn't ever make him a sandwich.

This depressed Billy endlessly. But mostly what depressed him is that halfway through their romance, she stopped putting out.

So one night Billy found himself arguing with Lucy with a shotgun in his mouth.

(Don't try this at home).

The argument eventually escalated to the point where Billy felt justified in hitting her in the head with the back end of the gun. This instantly lowered her IQ three points, effectively making her "mentally challenged" and fond of drooling.

However, a bitch is still a bitch, so Billy's problems didn't end. She kept on doing as she had been, and NOT doing as she once had. So Billy proceeded to make himself his own "rec room" in the basement and stayed there for a long time. When he emerged, he was a handsome butterfly. He announced that he could do much better than Lucy and proceeded to leave her forever.

As he was leaving, though, Lucy mentioned that she took a survey of people on the street who all agreed that Billy was butt ugly for a homosexual. This news depressed him because Lucy also mentioned that he wasn't gay and made an additional point that there was nothing wrong with such a lifestyle (which the random people agreed with). However, the random people and insects she talked to were all surprised to learn he wasn't a flaming homo, because by societal norms and stereotypes, he appeared to be.

Granted, Lucy did Photoshop the picture in question to make it look like Billy was making out with Elton John in the middle of performing "Joseph And The Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat," but forgot to mention that. None-the-less, with Billy's background and upbringing, he couldn't take the insult to his pigeon-holed definition of masculinity. He proceeded to get sloppy drunk and, quite purposely, blow his brains across the bathroom wall of a seedy local dive.

The end.