mid-life crisis (postponed)

I had this entire post planned out... the fact that I'll be turning 30 in a couple months... I was going to say I don't plan to live past 60.  I had a bunch of witty, self-depracating things to say.  But while typing it, I realized I feel oddly good.  Maybe it's because I just went for a walk, or because I've been drinking water today (two things I was going to pledge to do for my pending mid-life crisis).

But strangely, I feel okay.  I would like to lose some weight by my 30th birthday, and I would like to not be alone any more.  But right now I'm fine.  So anyway, I'm postponing my mid-life crisis.  At least for a few days. :)

Society is screwed...

Please pardon the double entendre... actually, nevermind, don't.

Tonight I went to a rap concert. Now, I'll preface all this with the fact that it was in Springfield, Missouri. But still...

It was the single most depressing event I've ever attended. I can't decide which was the most pathetic: me, for taking my neice, the few adults who were actually there to enjoy it, or the rappers graphically talking about sex, drugs and money to an audience composed mostly of teenage and preteen girls.

I can't even think of words to describe the gamut of feelings I felt tonight.

I saw 8 year old girls dancing while a man on stage sang the following lyrics:

"nice thighs, cute face, and gotta have a phat ass
bust that pussy open then i tell her bring it back"

Believe it or not, those, by far, are not the worst lyrics I heard tonight.

I was literally sick to my stomach with shame, that I had brought my 14 year old neice and she was hearing all this shit. Then I actually reached a point where I stopped feeling sick to my stomach... some strange combination of acceptance and complete despair. Like, I'd always hoped there was some small chance she could still grow up to be a proper lady, pure, shameless and without regret. But now all hope was gone. No girl will ever again have a chance. I'm completely convinced of it now.

I feel nauseous again.

Why?

Why am I broke?
Why did I spend 60 dollars on a video game, then the next day have to borrow 60 dollars from my mom to have my cat euthenized?
Why did my cat have leukemia?
Why am I so sad that my cat is dead?
Why was I so attached to the cat?
Why am I turning 30 and still single?
Why can't I acknowledge that I have the answers to all these questions?
Why don't I do something about it?
Why am I asking you?

Lethal Exposure

Lengthy exposure to certain radiation will likely cause cancer, or some other terrible sickness. It doesn't matter what the context is. You can't walk into the core of a nuclear reactor and say "I acknowledge that this is bad for me" and expect to come out unaffected.

Just because some writers for a CBS drama think of a touching way to denounce teenage pregnancy doesn't mean everyone that watches it will be unaffected. When a sitcom uses ironic humor to show the downfalls of extra-marital affairs or other sexual deviance, we have been exposed. Every promiscuous teenager, every cheating spouse, every abused child, every murder, every theft... it all makes us sicker. We are infected. The cancer is eating away and there are very few healthy cells of society left.

The glaring problem with my analogy is that the only known "cure" for cancer is, well, exposure to harmful radiation and chemicals. Perhaps, if we are lucky, society will only end up bald and weak and in remission. Maybe the witty and dramatic exposure Hollywood provides will buy us some time. Maybe someone will find a real cure.

But I doubt it. It's probably terminal.

Am I saying that witnessing any wrongdoing in any context will make us more likely to do said wrong? I'm honestly not sure... as I read this post over and over again before posting, I began noticing a nice dichotomy developing in my thought process that I'd rather not go into right now. Maybe another blog? Or maybe a therapist...

(Thanks to Matt for the photo - http://www.marulla.com)