The meme this parodies is mercifully in its final death throes, but if you spent any amount of time on Facebook in the last couple weeks, you no doubt noticed this bit of obnoxiousness more than a couple times. If you spend a lot of time of Facebook, you watched it start out as a mild diversion and then grow into a behemoth clogging your newsfeed.
It wasn’t terribly clever, and it only seemed to be amusing to the people who were sharing it. It also sent a message that needs to be stamped out right here and right now: Most people – your family, your friends, your co-workers, etc. - are in fact not thinking about what you do, and that’s because most people are too busy thinking about themselves and what they’re doing or going to do, which, in turn, is exactly why this meme ran so fucking rampant. It’s a Catch-22 of massive Facebookian proportions. It presents the delusion that the rest of the world cares about your nonsense, when in fact, they just simply do not, as they are too busy caring about their own.
Oh, I hear your cries! “Lighten up, Ross! We were just having fun!” Well your fun is impeding my sharing and receiving of useful information, and it’s pissing me off. If Facebook is indeed a tremendous waste of time, this meme is entirely emblematic of why.
On the surface, this is good times and great oldies, but lurking beneath is something much more sinister (but let’s face it: oldies can be pretty sinister to begin with). I think the implication here is that our parents were somehow “better” than the parents of today (i.e. “us”) because they let kids run recklessly and didn’t think so hard about whether or not bones would end up broken. Fair enough, but it’s not going to convince me that there’s anything wrong with not wanting your kid to be rushed to the emergency room if it can be prevented with a little common sense.
More importantly, however, when my son was a preteen, I’d never have let him go out of the house wearing a half shirt like the kid in the background. I might also have advised him to not sit like Farrah Fawcett when someone nearby has a camera in hand. Take that, parents of the ‘70s!
I looked up other pictures of Gillian McKeith. There’s no question that she’s not as conventionally attractive as Ms. Lawson, but there’s also no question that whoever put this together chose the most unflattering photograph they could find of her. Had the following shot been used instead, the graphic wouldn’t be nearly as dramatic.
For the record, I’m a big fan of both exercise and butter (though probably not at the same time).
Yes, let’s use fictional people (from the ‘60s, no less) to attempt to prove some kind of idiotic point about marriage today. What was that? Oh yeah, they were based on some comics from the ‘30s! I’ll see your Gomez and Morticia Addams and raise you a J.R. and Sue Ellen Ewing.
This is such a prime example of liberal hubris, it must be called out. Something that really gets under my skin about Democrats is their inability to know when to just fucking stop; to realize when they’ve won. It’s like that guy who thinks he’s a comedian, but he’s not, because he’s unable to instinctively recognize when a joke has reached its end. Here, someone has put together an impressive list of accomplishments by Barack Obama. It would stand tall, proud and strong, but they just had to go ruin the entire message with that last sentence: “What did you do in the last three years at your job?” You know why I didn’t do any of those things at my job in the last three years? Because I’m not the fucking President of the
, you sanctimonious asshole! United
This is why I do not go to Superbowl parties. Don’t play with your food, especially when you have this much of it (and all of it so unhealthy!) Last month I realized that I’m invited to more Superbowl parties than any real holiday of the year. Are there really more people gathering together on that one day than any other? Come on, folks, take just half the dollars you’re putting into this nonsense and do something cool on Halloween. You know how many Halloween parties I was invited to last year? None. Me, of all people! It beggars the imagination, yes it does.