And Then I Thought I was a Fish

IDENTIFYING INFORMATION: Peter Hunt Welch is a 20-year-old single Caucasian male who was residing in Bar Harbor, Maine this summer. He is a University of Maine at Orono student with no prior psychiatric history, who was admitted to the Acadia Hospital on an involuntary basis due to an acute level of confusion and disorganization, both behaviorally and cognitively. He was evaluated at MDI and was transferred from that facility due to psychosis, impulse thoughts, delusions, and disorientation.

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Observations of a Straight White Male with No Interesting Fetishes

Ever wondered how to justify your own righteousness even while you're constantly embarrassed by it? Or how to make a case for your own existence when you contribute nothing besides nominal labor to a faceless corporation that's probably exploiting children? Are you clinging desperately to an arbitrary social model imposed by your parents and childhood friends? Or screaming in terror, your mind unhinged at the prospect of an uncaring void racing to consume the very possibility of your life having meaning?

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This is the story of a boy, a girl, a phone, a cat, the end of the universe, and the terrible power of ennui.

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Justin Bieber's Relationship Advice

Composed on the 30th of October in the year 2011, at 7:54 PM. It was Sunday.

Anybody who reads more than five of these essays is probably drunk, and has recognized some recurring themes:

  1. Life is meaningless.
  2. People should be nice to each other.
  3. Despite theme 2, I’m kind of dick most of the time.1[1]
  4. Life is complicated and simplifying it is lazy and unhelpful.
  5. Theme 4 goes doubly for relationships.

These themes arise because they’re things that tick me off, and 80% of these essays are written when I’m drunk and angry about something. Since what I’m actually angry about is usually low blood sugar, complicated childhood issues, or arguments with girls I know I can’t win, I pick one of the above at random and pretend I’m upset about it, to create the illusion I care about things that aren’t my sex life or caloric intake.

Occasionally, some abstract social issue genuinely upsets me so much I feel compelled to leave a comment on the information super swamp, which is always a bad idea, and usually frustrated by character limits on comment forms. That’s what happened today. I clicked on an ad in Facebook, which was stupid in the first place, but I can defend that these days since I work in internet advertising and clicking on ads improves my job security.2[2] I clicked on an ad for “4 Lessons Justin Bieber Can Teach Men on Being Better Boyfriends.”

Before you judge me, know this: I did not know the name Justin Bieber until about six months ago, and I still don’t know what he’s famous for. I attribute this to my superhuman resistance to pop-culture and general forgetfulness. All I know is he’s a famous teenager that helps get young girls prescribed for behavioral medication. Here’s the link:

The link.

You get all that?

This was the response that was too long to post there:

1. Well, sure, but if you’re not physically attracted to someone, you’re likely doomed from the start. Staying with someone emotionally damaging just because of physical attractiveness is not healthy, but saying that it doesn’t matter what your partner looks like is naive. Since the picture suggests Bieber is essentially dating sex on stilts, I’m sure this is easy for him to say.

2. “Same” is not the same thing as “compatible,” and furthermore, “A” sense of humor is more important than whatever categorizing system anybody’s worked out. Personally, I think a sense of humor period is good for living, and this isn’t so much relationship advice since your sense of humor or lack thereof is going to shape you social life long before it dips into dating.

3. This just isn’t true, short or long term, especially since “strong family values” can mean, at a conservative guess, anything at all, hence it means nothing. People’s ideas about their existing and potential family are something they spend their whole lives working out, usually in the context of relationships. Demanding these issues be sorted out early on is pointless, impossible, and humorless.3[3]

4. As above, “real” is meaningless, and another thing people will spend the whole relationship figuring out. There’s no point in a relationship where you review it and get a stamp of approval that says it’s real and you can stop worrying. I have a personal standard that says I should be happy in my relationship about 80% of the time, and if it dips below that it’s time to start looking. Having a image of real and unreal in your head obscures insight into the complexities of your relationships. “This is real, I’m going to fight for it,” is the hallmark soundbite of every conversation I’ve ever had with somebody trying to explain why they’re staying in a bad or abusive relationship.

In conclusion: Justin Bieber sounds exactly like every other reasonably well-adjusted seventeen-year-old kid. Kudos to him for not being a cracked-out nut job despite the fame and fortune, but he has far more to learn than he has to teach, and looking to him for relationship advice is indicative of immaturity and celebrity obsession.

Stop starfucking for the 7 habits of lucky bastards in the hopes that you’ll get luckier. That’s what caused people to ask Bieber for his opinions in the first place. The repackaging and reselling of said opinions happens because the repackagers agree with this Nerf ignorance approach and figure they can use Bieber to push their opiates.4[4]

1 Related: I boldly embrace hypocrisies no man has embraced before.

2 If not my Karma.

3 Zing.

4 By the by, this essay wasn’t titled by accident. If you agree with this, you should link to this essay and slowly push my work to the top of the google results for people who search for “Justin Bieber relationship advice,” so I can exploit the starfucking instinct to push my own brain drugs for profit. See footnote 1.

If this shoe fits you, I'll marry you.

Hi there! You should totally go buy my book for the low low price of 6.73! It's like buying me a beer at an out-of-the-way dive bar in Brooklyn! Not in Manhattan. Manhattan prices are ridiculous, though there are a couple of decent Irish dives where you can snag a drink for five bucks. Otherwise, you're looking at a two or three book beer.