Journey. This is really a two part charade, because not only do people not like Journey as much as they claim to, nobody really loves the song “Don’t Stop Believin’.” The best Journey song is, objectively, “Faithfully.” My support for this claim? Voltage generated = -N(D(BA)/Dt); that’s right, Farraday’s Law of Induction.Journey fakery started sometime in the 1990s when teenagers began a renewed discovery of Journey instead of focusing on discovering much, much better music from the late 1970s and early ’80s. This was a travesty.
Things calmed down throughout most of the 2000s, but then [cue sinister music] Glee. Gleeks made you think Journey was awesome, even though Journey is just kind of OK. Ever since the Glee “Don’t Stop Believin’” episode people have been saying things like, “Hey, do you want to go see Journey with me at the county fair this summer?” and, “OMGosh, I want ‘Don’t Stop Believin’’ to be the first dance at my wedding!” These are not acceptable things to say in contemporary society.
But there’s good news. You don’t really like Journey that much, you’ve just been assaulted with so much Journeyism that you got used to the idea of liking Journey. Fight this. You DON’T LOVE JOURNEY.
Salads. “I’ve been craaaaving a salad all day.” Shut up, no you haven’t. You’ve been craving bacon.
Dostoevsky. When you say you luuurv Dostoevsky what I really hear you saying is, “I’ve read Crime and Punishment, like, all the way through. And I want you to know that.” Because I don’t honestly know how you can genuinely love books in which all of the characters have four names. Pass the ibuprofen.
Not owning a TV. Admit it, you’re bored.
Things made of almonds that substitute for other more delicious things. I realize that almond milk is a necessary substitution for people with dairy and soy allergies, and I realize that almond butter is a much more expensive, exclusive, and trend-sending butter than its peanut cousin, but almond stuff is chalky, yo. And when you say you love it, I think what you really mean is that you’ve come to tolerate it and it’s just been a really long time since you’ve had actual cream in your coffee or PB on your jelly.
David Lynch movies. Ulch. Get the heck out of here. If you were to tell me you love Lynch movies, my first thought would be, “Friendship over.” Lynch movies don’t make any sense! I still don’t know what the tiny people at the end of Mulholland Drive are all about. Yeah, yeah, his movies are surrealist, I get it, but mostly I think they just try too hard. That, or Lynch is fudging with us. Every time someone claims to get his work, Lynch chuckles, and a Laura Palmer gets its wings. I just find it exhausting to listen to people contort and manipulate each weirdo twist into something resembling sense. Seriously, if you want a brain tickler, go do a crossword puzzle.
Atlas Shrugged. Unless you’re an a-hole, you don’t love this book. If you’re an a-hole, maybe, MAYBE you love this book.
I find that a fair number of basically nice people say they’re Ayn Rand fans without realizing what that actually says about them. Objectivism is not what you want to go about espousing, because if “rational selfishness” is your big thing, people aren’t going to want to be friends with you.
And anyway, I doubt Ayn Rand even liked Atlas Shrugged (even though she was an a-hole) because it’s really icky and ridiculous. It’s ickdiculous.
TOMS shoes. I can see how you’d like the idea of TOMS shoes, but you can’t tell me you actually love the footwear. TOMS shoes are, a), of all: ugly; b), of all: impractical (come on, no arch support or moisture resistance!); and c), most importantly: made by a FOR-profit company. You could do a lot more for the shoeless of the world by just giving the money you’d spend on a pair of TOMS and donating it directly to shoeless people.