|
Prick
Of The Week:
'...Has
It Been A Year Already?'
by:
Harry T. |
What
I'm most proud of, what's most satisfying
of all Publicity Whore's many and varied accomplishments,
is that this horrible little Prick Of The Week thing I do
- for no other reason than to make my own self-loathing
ass feel better, wound up arguably the most popular feature
in Publicity Whore.
It's
amazing, really - especially since I don't even think the
first one was very good. I mean Scott Stapp's such an obvious
choice. With that long, flowing mane, and all his 'Jesus
Loves Me - This I Know' bullshit, he's hardly worth noting.
Is This Guy Serious???
But
flawed as it may have been, it marked a huge, career-defining
milestone for me personally: it generated the very first
piece of hate mail I ever got (well - unless you count the
three or four hundred 'Failing', 'Nearly Failing', and 'Quality
Declining' love letters I got from an assortment of teachers
over the years). This cherry-popping mail came to me from
a very upset girl, who didn't seem to think I - of all people,
had the right to question Mr. Stapp's self-riteous, God-Squad
rhetoric.
Even Jesus Thinks Scott
Stapp's A Jerk
Now
- was she right? Who knows? Probably. But does it matter?
The point is it marked the moment I realized I could use
my pen to hurt and disparage people I felt were inferior
to me. And even more than that - it was the first time I
realized I could talk a bunch of shit, and get a whole fuckload
of panties in a bunch over it. I mean can you imagine a
more satisfying feeling? It quenched my insatiable thirst
for negativity, and unleashed the fucking devil in me.
So
over the course of the next 12 months, I took a flame-thrower
to all sorts of silly people: Mr. Poo Mustache John Norris,
inept Politicians, The Grateful Dead, the entire city of
Los Angeles, CC De Ville, that fag Paul Mc Cartney, a bitter
bartender, an elaborate network or spineless people-pleasers,
MTV and anyone who watches it, the entire notion of the
Prick Of The Week in the first place, oh - and an angry
Publicity Whore reader or two.
I Didn't Think Hell Would Have
So Many Palm Trees
I
had found my calling. I began rising early in the day, and
working late into the night searching for fools to expose.
Then about half-way through my reign of terror, a friend
recognized the power of my pen, and demanded to know why
I insisted on using it for evil - instead of good.
Searching For Inspirado...
Now
this friend had so many faces, I'm having trouble picturing
her now, but her words got me to thinking: Are my words
really evil? Can words even be evil? Ugly? Maybe. Sarcastic
and degrading? Oh, stop it - you're making me blush. But
evil - no. If there is a crime I'm guilty of, it's diggin'
through the trash, and reporting back to you kids with what
I find there.
Holy Fuck!
And
quite frankly, some of you owe me a sincere thank you. I
mean - think of the service I've done you. You don't have
to do shit. I do all the homework, and all you have to do
is read my work. In it, you'll find the only opinion you'll
ever need about what's right and wrong with this sick little
rock we're all temporarily toiling away on.
Enjoy It While You're Here...
So
in the First Anniversary spirit, I leave you now with some
wisdom I've picked up along the way: Fuckin' relax. Don't
take this shit so seriously. Don't take anything so seriously.
I realize I bother some of you, because I remind you of
all those horrible flaws you hate in yourself. But looking
in the mirror is good. Well, maybe not if you're fat Rosie
O'Donnell, but you see my point, right? Introspection is
actually quite healthy.
No Amount Of Viagra Would
Help
I
mean look at me - I'm the picture of healthy. It's not like
I spend my time hiding behind an anonymous column, or anything.
Right?
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