halsparks

I've been bothered lately by the concept of guilty pleasures.

Why should something that I find pleasurable make me feel guilty?
Seriously who am I answering to when I like something?

It's like a Demon that should have died in High School but escaped and is now roaming the countryside.
Like we all have a tiny Kathy Griffin, Ant or some other jag-off member of the cool police on our shoulder where the Angels and Devils of conscience should be. This thirst for judgement at the hands of people that quite frankly are as boring as perma-church and as bitter as a aspirin sandwich just boggles my mind.

And the amazing point is that they actually believe that their opinion about my likes and dislikes have any merit at all! Which is psychotic especially when you're dealing with art of any sort. Music, Comedy, graphic arts, movies, comic books all of these are highly personal and none of their business.

I really love doing the VH1 shows and I had a blast doing "Dude, Where's My Car?" and I have no illusions that these projects are for the sole purpose of making people feel better. Yet, there is this silly undercurrent of shame that some people assume I should have for doing them. It's minor but it's consistent. And it has Nothing to do with me. It is all about their worry that some else, who doesn't actually exist, would lift an eyebrow at them if they found out they liked it.

It's bizarre.

And the funny things is the majority of people who believe that you should feel ashamed about liking your favorite things also value a "fuck you if you don't know what's good" " My way or the highway" attitude.

If they say "You listen to that?" and you say "Yeah, and who asked you?" they wilt like a flower the devil just breathed on.

so maybe the "guilty pleasure" reflex is more a test of fortitude than culture.

Either way, I like what I like for my own reasons and I don't need permission. ever.

Especially from people with that kind of time on their hands.