Excessive Repetition

Excessive repetition, that more than anything is the crime of popular culture.
	The pop riff, the seized upon saying; ``Bang zoom,'' vocal trademark; ``I'll be back,'' wink or shocked expression of an actor, and the remembered replayed and reenacted repetition of the above by those who aren't yet tired of whatever it is to those of us who already are or those who soon will be.

The finding of the lost and brilliantly bright talent, placing, exploiting it

in front of the audience of the radio listener, the cheers of live theater, the television, or the magic of the silver screen. The crime of pop culture is that in its ever present never ending quest for the next fad is that it cheapens the genuine, the individual and the moments that should be unique. Instead, those precious moments become awkward cliched happenstance due to the over-exposure that media finds with certain elements of life.

How there is supposed to be electricity with each kiss, the development that

each feeling is not your own, that you should feel a certain way because so many have idealized love or sex or death or violence or hatred or vengeance or whatever, so many times before.

Let all feelings be your own, let all actions be your choice, ignore your

conceptual influences if they come in from the outside. Let all said conceptual influences come from within, instead of from the homogeneous exterior pop culture media that bombards us. Let life be emotion and self, not the hollow attempted capture of such in someone's public diary, nor the desired intent of sitcoms nor the magic of the darkened theater.

Let fiction be fiction; ideal fantasy, and let life be life: Real. Life, let

it be real, good or (usually) bad, boring, exciting, painful or joyous, evil or righteous, let life be free, open to the corruption of your own experience but not the taint of idealized reality, fictional entertainment. Wouldn't it be cliched if we could always fall fondly in love with the person whom loves us back?

Life is better as a frustrating challenge, when the easy is a blessed gift,

the difficult a frequent barrier we must find our way through, around, over, or destroy, the impossible we discover really isn't, and from there carve out our own niche for humble living. From there, find our own place to be happy.

What is life if contentment isn't attainable? What is life if it is easily

attainable? Utopia be damned, give me a reality I have to fight because I don't want it easy. I want to be kicked because I like to bite back, to be given leave to take the gloves off.

But you? I tell you, one and all (if that many ever read this) to follow your

own and I can only offer what I think. And I think we should more often forget what we hear so endlessly in cultivated pop media, and just listen to our own insides as they twist out the truth that each of us must obey.

Listen to your insides, for they will guide you to the lessons you need to

learn. Listen to your insides and they will tell you what is right for you.

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A.U.B.I.E.

Out of Order

How there is supposed to be electricity with each kiss, the development that
	each feeling is not your own, that you should feel a certain way because so many have idealized love or sex or death or violence or hatred or vengeance or whatever, so many times before.

Let all feelings be your own, let all actions be your choice, ignore your
	conceptual influences if they come in from the outside. Let all said conceptual influences come from within, instead of from the homogeneous exterior pop culture media that bombards us. Let life be emotion and self, not the hollow attempted capture of such in someone's public diary, nor the desired intent of sitcoms nor the magic of the darkened theater.

Let fiction be fiction; ideal fantasy, and let life be life: Real. Life, let
	it be real, good or (usually) bad, boring, exciting, painful or joyous, evil or righteous, let life be free, open to the corruption of your own experience but not the taint of idealized reality, fictional entertainment. Wouldn't it be cliched if we could always fall fondly in love with the person whom loves us back?

Life is better as a frustrating challenge, when the easy is a blessed gift,
	the difficult a frequent barrier we must find our way through, around, over, or destroy, the impossible we discover really isn't, and from there carve out our own niche for humble living. From there, find our own place to be happy.

What is life if contentment isn't attainable? What is life if it is easily
	attainable? Utopia be damned, give me a reality I have to fight because I don't want it easy. I want to be kicked because I like to bite back, to be given leave to take the gloves off.

But you? I tell you, one and all (if that many ever read this) to follow your
	own and I can only offer what I think. And I think we should more often forget what we hear so endlessly in cultivated pop media, and just listen to our own insides as they twist out the truth that each of us must obey.

Listen to your insides, for they will guide you to the lessons you need to
	learn. Listen to your insides and they will tell you what is right for you.