Wasted Nothing


Every time I go to Target (TM) to buy stuff I feel dirty. It’s always house hold items I desperately need and even at their shockingly low, third world/Chinese communist labor prices I spend more money then I want to. Today I got carpets, a microwave, some forks and knives and shit. Nothing cool, nothing worth mentioning. And I still spent more money then I am financially comfortable with in my unemployed state. Thing is, I always felt that way every time I went to Target.

I had a friend once who really detested Target. A one stop shop for all your buying needs. A glorified Wal-Mart that you feel only slightly less bad at shopping at. You walk by the toy aisle and find nothing but carcinogenic plastic and children only partially supervised. It’s always depressing, seeing recently aged women with a couple of kids nipping at her ankles. This is life and it is found at Target. No other commerce for product exchange saddens me as much as my rare, but semi-necessary trips to Target. The grocery store sorta sucks, but we all gots to eat.

Target is filled with the first world kind of crap that only people who live in poorly built apartments need to attend to the self-centered world view of their neighbors. Those rugs I spoke about, it’s all in a (vein) effort to muddle the sounds of my distemper surviving cat jumping off his perch, the chair or thudding across the apartment in the few times he decides to run around, usually at inopportune parts of the night. These kinds of thuds the poor little man makes would be music to the ears in about 99.8% of the world. I’m doing my part, spending money at Target, appeasing the complainers and generally unstoked, because I don’t like floor rugs and I sleep through the poor bastards minimalist exercise routine. Worst part is, I still didn’t get enough area ruggage to cover the offending areas.

Oh and why Target, why not look on Craigslist or Freecycle? Because I just don’t have the time. You can’t appease people slowly. The second notice on my door on Friday night was proof of that. I’m doing what I can. I like my apartment and I am paid up until June. I can’t afford to lose that money. Cuz, you know I am unemployed. Vicious cycle. Plus, I just don’t feel like moving.


I like the movie Scott Pilgrim, except it’s really difficult to like Micheal Cera and root for him. It’s not that I think he was a bad choice for the role, but I’m tired of the pathetic slacker routine, glorified so much in my late teens and early twenties by such delightful godfathers of hipsters as Beck and Reality Bites. It’s gone on far too long. Especially since I think a lot of people my age have gone on to lead rather full, self-fulfilling lives.

Also, I realize this comic and then movie was produced by people my age, but I am tired of young people, or those portraying young people decked out in the garb of generations prior or before them. Smashing Pumpkins was good in the 90’s and served some sort of purpose then (What I don’t know. Looking back on all the time spent listening to Siamese Dream, I can’t really see the point. It didn’t really hold up. Maybe it was just the slick production. Was it Vig or Albini? It’s hard to remember and I don’t want to look it up). But they are a shell of a band, marred by the self loathing, self-importance of a generation of young people who realized the world was fucked up, but not having the guts to do anything about it other than mope. Moping is bullshit. Sure, every town in America needs a band like Smashing Pumpkins now and then, but we could have done with out them kids. That t-shirt just looks dumb and ironic.


It’s Sunday the day I wrote this. This act of writing to provide content to an unknown, inconsistent readership that I am grateful for. My stomach hurts, my sinuses are fucked, I am tired and I have band practice in a few hours. This is real life, right now, for me. New carpets, a microwave, and cutlery.