Sound of Music, Haters, and Paris Hilton: The Age of Snark

Disclaimer: This was originally written before Christmas and I had forgotten its existence. Please excuse my delay and the many Christmas references. Thank you, The Management.

Last night I was excited to read that NBC is going to show another live performance similar to what they did with The Sound of Music, and this time it will be Peter Pan. When I originally read that NBC was doing a live version of The Sound of Music the dork in me was all a twitter. I was out of town the night it aired, but I had saved it on my DVR, and I looked forward to getting home Friday night so I could cuddle with Saidee and watch three hours of singing, love, nuns, and Nazi subplots. I just knew that Saidee would love it and I was excited that NBC was trying something different. However, the Thursday it aired live my Facebook and Twitter accounts went crazy. Post after post about how terrible it was and many on Twitter were down right mean to Carrie Underwood. I understand that The Sound of Music is beloved by many, but I did not understand the anger being directed at Carrie Underwood. Let me absolutely promise you she did not take this role lightly. I seriously doubt this was her thought, “I will kill this! I will make everyone forget who fucking Julie Andrews even is!” Chances are it went more like, “This is a great opportunity! I can’t believe NBC is even attempting this.” Sometimes I think we live in a world where we don’t want people to be happy and successful. The snark has gotten out of control.

We can all be snarky and a certain degree of snarky is fine.  There is nothing wrong of being critical of something. I, for instance, can’t stand It’s a Wonderful Life.  The scene where the kid gets hit in his ear upsets me and makes me want to enter the television to rip into the hitter. I know many who love this movie and consider it the official movie of Christmas. I am glad they feel that way. I am happy that they enjoy something so fully and it causes them happiness. I feel that way when I catch The Flintstones Christmas Carol on the Cartoon Network. Just because I don’t enjoy It’s a Wonderful Life doesn’t mean I want to trash it to others. I just make the decision to watch something else that night. It really isn’t complicated at all and there is no reason to be mean about it.

Of course sometimes I fall into a pit of snarky and must climb my way back out using a ladder made of earnest. I am snarky about people who I know have done things and then pretend they didn’t to put a good face on social media. I want to list their transgressions for the world to read, but I can’t because it would be mean spirited and my karma can’t take that kind of hit. I am similarly snarky about people who put up inspirational quotes on Facebook that are obviously meant to tear down others.  I am snarky about that teenage bride, Courtney Stodden, because I can’t find any redeeming qualities to this story and I mourn her lost childhood. I am snarky about Paris Hilton because I feel like she plays dumb as a shtick, and that is bad for women. I am vocally critical about many topics, and others I will defend with every ounce of my size 22/24 (sometimes 26) body.

It may make me a hypocrite, but while I turn my nose up at Paris Hilton, I defend Kim and Kanye and wish them happiness. There is no rhyme or reason to what I decide to be earnest about and what I decide warrants some snark. What I do know is that I feel better about myself when I am earnest. Sometimes it is a fight to be positive, just the other day I said something so snarky that I actually felt the need to repent. Often I lose that fight and come out battered and bruised, but I am going to keep trying. I enjoyed what NBC tried to do and thought that the actors did a great job. I am grateful that Saidee loved it and received both the original movie and the NBC version for Christmas. I am grateful that for days we could hear Saidee singing, “I am sixteen going on seventeen.” So, when it is announced who will play Peter Pan let’s take a minute and commend the actress who will try something new. Be gentle with the words you use, unless NBC picks Paris Hilton to play Peter, if that is the case snark away my friends. Snark away.


I Hate Your Stupid Face

The mood:

It appears that I am having “one of those days.” One of those days that make me want to spit in the face of people that I deem useless. Do I logically understand that this feeling is tied to exhaustion and hormones? Yes. Do I care? No.

It all starts with me feeling like I have no time. When am I supposed to clean the house, do the laundry, cook, raise the children, write, and go to school when all I do is work? The house is getting social services bad and it smells funny, kind of like dog, fried chicken, dirt, and pee. Why can’t I have hairless animals who wear Swiffers on their paws? And why can’t they smell of Gain or cotton candy? Would that be too much to ask? “Yes,” you say? Well, I hate your stupid face for thinking that.

Another slight issue I am having is that I am stoned out of my mind. Not on any illegal narcotics, but on a sleep aide. I am Benadryl stoned. My head feels like it is tethered to my body by a string. That string feels like it is being held by a sticky-handed toddler who is clapping at the unicycles at a July 4th parade. I am trying to hold it together, but I am so out of it that at any second a penguin may walk up to me and offer me a Snickers bar.

I don’t even like Snickers bars, you stupid penguin!

Also, this penguin will be wearing a baseball hat. I do not know why. I just accept it to be true. I hate its stupid face.

The response to the mood:

Today is the kind of day that I need people to act their age. I need people to act like fucking grown-ups. It isn’t hard; I do it almost every day. I bitch about it, but I do it. The world is not there to cater to you. It doesn’t hold you against its bosom and tell you everything is fine. No, sadly the world just slaps us around and makes us feel worse. It is our responsibility to accept this and then rally to fix it. It is all we can do. We take a hit and then we get back up, again and again. Grown-ups accept this and move on.

Do what needs to be done and then move on.

I write this in the midst of some existential temper tantrum. My inner four-year-old has her fist clenched by her side and she is stomping her right foot. She isn’t getting her way and it has made her unpleasant. We all have an inner four-year-old that is id and rage, slamming doors and screaming in the recesses of our mind. I have to remind mine to stay quiet. I banish her to the dark places to hide out with the accountant that sometimes follows me, repeating those dreaded numbers: 17, 19, 25, 29, 36. I am an adult, and sometimes against everything I feel, I have to continue to act like one. I wish that other people would act the same way.

So, I leave this short blog on this note. Grow the fuck up and be nicer. I’ll try, and so should you.