The thing I don't care about is that they are blowing up car stereos as a form of copy protection. But posting comments on K5 about it? I care about it a lot. That is simply good sport and I get a lot of pleasure out of this. I care about doing this to a very great extent, much more than just enough to hit "post."
On the surface, it sounds like nothing. The music fans discover this dirty trick, and get in a tizzy. I interject that I don't think anyone else has any reason to care. Now you would expect they would just ignore me, because they care and they have each other right? But no!
It pisses them off that I don't care. Why? I shouldn't speculate, but I will in just a second here. The fun comes in watching them get pissed off. They rant, they equivocate, they squirm, and they bluster. They even threaten (on my really good days), and if all else fails, they inarticulately mod me down. It takes a certain kind of person to bite like that, and that certain kind of person is someone I really enjoy bothering. And they do it to themselves!
Here's where I speculate as to why: We have here a guy who's self-esteem is teetering precariously atop a pile of stuff: mostly consumer goods, a few financial instruments, and a pinch of "status" at the workplace. This is what this guy thinks he is made of, this pile of stuff, and he needs very much for other people to admire all of it. He doesn't have much else than these goods, and he is naturally very protective. And someone like me comes along and totally disrespects it.
Not only am I not impressed with the stuff, I don't care about the welfare of the stuff. When one of the corporations that sells the stuff insidiously catches our materialist friend in a double-bind, holding his car stereo (a penis substitute, if you really want to know what I think) hostage against his CDs, well to the mind of our consumer-goods addict, they have him by the balls! And it is sooooo unfair!
Then we have a massive element of jealously, because here all those AIDS victims and hungry children and various huddled masses have been getting all this aid and sympathy from the world, in response to the injustice perpetrated against them, and finally, a chance for our materialist friend (whom no one ever feels sorry for) to get some sympathy too. Look! I'm a victim too! I'm just like those African babies that Nestle gave that deadly un-nourishing formula to! They are profiting by selling me a defective, even dangerous product! Help!
And no sympathy comes. Ooooh! That is so unfair!
You're right, OK? It is unfair. You are getting screwed. And still, I don't have the time so cry one tear for you. But oh, yes, indeed, I do have the time to mock your deluded hubris, and your self-pity. I think it is fun to bring into relief this childish fishing for compassion, this need for approval and motherly attention. I like to demonstrate what a bankrupt moral philosophy is behind it all, and what a weak and needy kind of person runs around crying for mommy to be on their side, yet like a little brat will not give up a thing for the less fortunate.
That is my game. It's fun and I don't think I'll ever run out of targets. Any more questions?
"Who's making personal remarks now?" the Hatter asked triumphantly.
--Alice in Wonderland
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