bragging rights

I should have bookmarked a Livejournal post I found one day from some guy who believed that Lord of the Rings had tainted fantasy literature by so narrowly defining the terms of fantasy narratives that the genre had turned deathly dull. I agreed completely with his point, but I had trouble with the self-importance that attended his Livejournal entry. “Now, I know I’ve written controversial posts before…” he states.

I wondered: On what exactly? The limits of the twenty-sided die? Alternative mapping units beyond the hexagon? But I envied the guy’s self-assurance and his authority inside a limited community. I did not envy the Amish-style beard.

Since I don’t belong to a fantasy/WoW/Second Life community,* what I need is something insignificant I can brag about. Like the time I hated Bryan Adams for his conduct and not his music. Or the fact that I write hundred-word record reviews for twenty bucks a pop. That’s something I enjoy doing, but in no way do I believe that Cat Power is reading my hundred-word review of Jukebox and bursting into tears. And why would she? I was very complimentary. On the other hand, I’d like it if Good Charlotte and Avril Lavigne read what I wrote about them, because then maybe, oh maybe, they would stop it. I should send them clippings with the note: From a Fan!!! Then they would read my reviews and conclude that I may be a fan, but it is not of them.

That’s what I’ll do. Then I’ll tell people that I personally sent popular musicians Avril Lavigne and Good Charlotte press clippings that I had written, and because of that they turned to the Lord, or blew up, or both? Let me tell you about my significant role in the transformation of Avril Lavigne into an atomized Christian.

Hey (hey), You (you)
I don’t like your false god

Hey (hey), You (you)
I think you need a new one

Hey (hey), You (you)
Jesus be the right god

Hey (hey), You (you)
Let’s all blow up and praise Him

The concept’s a little laboured, but the tune’s catchy enough.

*Full disclosure: I do maintain a weird little bow-legged buck-toothed fat guy in a medieval shirt in Second Life, but I haven't been to visit him in a few months. I feel more like a virtual sugar daddy to him than the animating meatspace will behind his crazy virtual life.