Directional Politics is Stupid, And So Are You

I really don’t care if you’re left, right, center, diagonal, or fucking horizontal. You’re still a moron. Unless you’ve got a Political Science degree, and have worked in politics, you don’t know what you’re talking about, and you’re wasting valuable oxygen regurgitating half-remembered facts from http://www.I’mRight.com. Fuck off, you’re just as dumb as the rest of us, you just don’t know it. I’m sick of all these uninformed dipshits who get their entire worldview from Fox News and think that Trump is the second coming of Jesus. He’s not. God’s not real, and the fact that I haven’t been smited by Holy Lighting yet means that either he’s not real, or he agrees with me. Donald Trump is a moron, anyone with two braincells to rub together knows it, but let’s break it down.

Leftists aren’t any better. Can’t you people get along? What is your problem, why do you have to attack everyone you don’t think is as “woke” as you? Shouldn’t you be uniting as a group instead of picking off people who kind of agree with you, but who don’t force politics into every conversation? You people need to shape up too. What, you think because you’re against Trump, you need to be against everyone else? Go fuck yourselves, you pretentious cock-goblins. I used to believe in you, I want all people to be happy and healthy and free, but if that means I have to cancel Dave Chappelle because he made a joke someone didn’t like, I’m gonna tell you to fuck off and gain a sense of humor. I get most of your views, but the sheer amount of Social Justice Warriors on Twitter getting offended over jokes makes me think that you’re all so miserable that you need to make everyone else as miserable as you so you can feel included. Shut up, get some therapy, and pour yourself a drink you uptight assholes. The worst part about the Left is how you are all such unbearable dicks. Your worldview is based off of taking things people smarter than you that you agree with say out of context to prove you’re right. Do your own research, go outside, and shut the fuck up.

Don’t think I’m done with you, Righties. You’re the reason I feel uncomfortable to vote Republican. You’ve ruined the brand, and now I have to pick one of these uppity dick-lickers who are going to spend all my tax money on stupid things that don’t work. Every time one of you goes on TV, I feel my brain starting to hurt as you fumble to explain how the government is going to take your guns, even though that’s never been a thing. Wake up people, politicians found a way to weaponize your fear and stupidity and laziness and turn it into Republican votes. Every moron I know with an understanding of economics gained from selling weed and watching Wolf of Wall Street can be swayed by propoganda disguised as memes, or by listening to media sources made to make you think you’re smarter than everyone. As I’ve said previously, you’re not, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner people will stop calling you an unbearable douche. I’ve never seen stupidity like I’ve seen on the Breitbart comment section, it’s like entire communities didn’t bully the stupid out of racist morons unfit to pour my coffee in the morning. If you think Climate Change is a hoax made up by the Chinese to destabilize our economy: get a vasectomy, you are too stupid to be allowed to reproduce.

We didn’t used to be like this, so I have total faith that we can change. It won’t be easy, it won’t be quick, and it will cost us greatly. If we’re to move on from this colossal fuck-up, we’re going to need to forgive each other. It’s going to suck, no one wants to admit they were mislead, that they were wrong, that they aren’t as smart as they thought. The alternative is total destruction on a scale not seen since the Roman Empire. “America isn’t the greatest country in the world anymore. But it can be.” Jeff Daniels was right, we’ve lost our way, but I can’t give up on the people of this country, even though I really have no interest in talking to 95% of you. We need an event that brings us together, I’m not talking about a mass shooting, or a terrorist attack, or a speech on TV. I’m talking about something that shocks us to our very core, something that the 24-hour news cycle can’t hide. I don’t know what that event could be, but I know that if we keep going down this path, we will alienate the people we share our country with, and that is fucking unacceptable. I don’t care about your politics, one of my best friends is a huge Trump supporter because he likes how he talks shit on Twitter. He’s not a racist, he’s not a billionaire looking for a tax cut, he’s just an uninformed consumer looking for more content, regardless of the real-world consequences. We need something to reunite us, we need something to be As American As Apple Pie again, we need Pam Anderson’s tits bouncing on Baywatch, because if there’s one thing that everyone can agree with, it’s that boobs are awesome.

5 Rappers Brands Could Learn From

5. Curren$y

Curren$y might not be a household name like the rest of the people on this list, but his strategy offers valuable insight. Curren$y is the prime example of why content is king, the man put out 3 albums this year, and it’s not even over yet. His content isn’t always perfect, but it has a consistent quality that makes up for the lack of steller content. Brands can learn that once you build a following, people will be hungry for as much as you can give them. So much so that they’ll overlook the fact that it isn’t awe-inspiring, just because you give them more than they could possibly need. So the key takeaway from Curren$y is this: just keep going, it doesn’t have to be perfect, it doesn’t have to be paradigm shifting, it just has to not suck.

4. Vince Staples

Vince Staples is “personal brand” embodied. He openly hates the rap status quo, making fun of rappers he thinks are below him, or acting fake. He is controversial, he’s abrasive, and isn’t afraid to call “bullshit”. This gathers attention, which can be translated to serve brands. Look at the Gillette ad. The fact that you know which one I mean means it worked. Controversy sells in post-Trump America. Your fans will support you, because they see an attack on something they like as an attack on themselves, and won’t hesitate to defend you ( to a point, don’t be EXACTLY like Trump) For example, Vince Staples said that the 90’s wasn’t when hip-hop was at it’s height, which is a correct statement, but people online flipped out. As a result, the number of people Googling “Vince Staples” skyrocketed. A percentage of those people then checked his music out, and liked what they heard. If your brand isn’t sticking out, you’re going to fade away. You need to shock the world into caring about your brand. Maybe criticize a commonly-known flaw in your product, or show some self-awareness in your social media, anything to set you apart from the crowded Twitter feeds and Facebook timelines.

3. Mac Miller

Mac Miller. I’m sure you’ve heard the name before. After his untimely death, rap news outlets jumped to cover the story, as well as anything Mac related. Don’t do this. There’s making the best out of a tragedy, and then there’s profiting off of people’s suffering and death. Mac had many lessons to teach us, he never let anyone else tell him what he should write about, he never cared what anyone else thought, he just focused on the music. He also networked like a motherfucker. Every rapper worth their mic has a song with Mac Miller, the variety of people he worked with speaks to his undeniable work ethic. You should reach out to your competitors and challenge them, it shows you care about your customers, and competition draws eyeballs, further helping your brand. Network with brands outside of your industry, make something that neither of your customers expect. They’ll be shocked, but if you do it correctly, they’ll see that you care about quality and collaboration. Early in Mac’s career, he recorded his life on tour, giving his fans an inside look into his day-to-day life. You can adopt this for your brand too. Film what you can, anything that gives your customers a sense of who you are behind the scenes, what you’re like behind the brand. People like to feel like they know you, like you matter to them. You never know what you’re customers might find interesting, so film as much as you can and let them decide what’s good.

2. Drake

Drake is popular for the same reasons pink guns are popular: he took something predominantly male, and found a way to make it appeal to girls. He took his brand of being a soft, emotional guy and applied to to rap. He also was one of the first artists to make an exclusivity deal with a streaming service. His deal with Apple Music was set up so thay they were the only place you could listen to Drake’s new album. This can be used by brands too. If you offer something that can’t be gained anywhere else, or if you can get them things no one else can, you’ll be successful. Additionally, Drake used internet memes as a sort of PR when it came out he didn’t write his own raps. He channeled that negativity and exposure, and rolled with it. He made a fool of himself before Meek Mill, the origin of the negativity, could use it against him. Brands can learn from that level of self-awareness.

1. Lil Nas X

Lil Nas X is the best marketer I’ve ever seen in hip-hop. I’ve been following him on Twitter since he was a lowly shitposter (a meme creator who purposely makes bad memes), but now is one of the most talked-about names in rap. His single “Old Town Road”, which you’ve definitely heard, is the longest-charting song ever, beating Mariah Carey and Michael Jackson by 3 weeks. He maintained that streak by inundating us with memes, Twitter posts, Tic-Toc videos, and by making the song itself into a meme. Lil Nas X understands social media better than any other rapper, he knows you can make something popular very quickly by using every facet of every channel available to push his content. The song itself is also a thing of beauty; catchy, memorable quotes, short enough to replay, with an addictive chorus that won’t get out of my head. Furthermore, when you see “Billy Ray Cyrus” featured, you’re surprised that the dad from Hannah Montana is on a rap song, and that makes you want to hear the song. You need to divert expectations from time to time, the last thing you want from a growing brand is predictability, you want the people waiting to see what you’re going to do next, and I sure as hell want to see where Lil Nas X goes next.

Why You’re Miserable

I’ve been fascinated with unhappiness for years, I’ve always wondered what is it about ourselves that makes us miserable, and I think I’ve figured it out. People are miserable because they expect too much out of themselves. Think about it: you probably think you are some underrated genius who won’t be understood in your time, or you think that every idea you have is amazing, or you think that even though you can’t seem to come out on top, you’re a winner.

It’s not your fault. It’s really not. You’re doing your best, and that’s all you can ask for. If you’re anything like me, you spend too much of your time thinking about why you’re not happy. Social media has ruined this country, it’s the rotten core of humanity that has gained exposure. Facebook hasn’t made us awful, we’ve always been selfish, egotistical assholes who want attention at all times. I’ve noticed a lot more people who think that being happy means people think you’re happy, and I think that’s wild.

It’s not just you, it’s everyone else too. As a lowly, minimum-wage customer service professional, I see the general public more than the average person, and I’ve noticed they’re getting worse. If I had a dollar for every person who was rude to me, or who took money out of my tip jar to keep from breaking a bill, I wouldn’t have to work anymore. People are fickle, they jump on any excuse to be shitty, because our society doesn’t allow us to truly embrace our shittiness. Society ostracizes anyone who upsets the balance of things, and angry assholes yelling at people are the way we reset. Every angry douche at work has their reasons for being a douche, you can’t blame them, so just feel bad for them and move on.

That’s another thing that’s making us miserable: work. An average of 53% of Americans hate their jobs, and if you spend 40 hours a week hating something, you’re gonna have a bad time. So many people only got their job out of fear; fear that they wouldn’t have enough money to live the way they want, fear that they won’t be respected by their friends and family, fear that they’ve wasted their lives doing something they hate. I understand that, I’m afraid that I’m not good enough to do what I want, I understand that, I’m afraid that I’ve wasted my time, that I could’ve spent my time developing a different set of skills. You’ll never find an answer, so why bother?

Anger is useful, don’t let anyone tell you differently. It’s the single-most reusable resource. I’ve never run out of anger, and when used properly, anger can change the world for the better. Look at the Civil Rights Movement: people got so angry that they actually sacrificed everything to achieve their goals. Imagine what you could do if similarly motivated.

People need to learn ways to healthily release that natural anger, or it’ll become misery. If you bottle up all your resentments, all your failures, all your mis-steps, you’ll end up locked in the bathroom with a gun in your mouth. This is why I think we need to have mandatory mental health screenings in schools, to erase the stigma of therapy, and to stop the spree of school shootings and road rage incidents. I think therapy should be a lot easier to get, so many people in this country could use an impartial third-party that can guide them through the hard parts of life.

My Journey Climbing Mt. Douglas

Hiking is a weird concept for me to understand. Part of me gets why people like it, it’s physical, it’s outside, you get a nice view at the end, etc. That being said: FUCK hiking. I recently went with a friend of mine, and it was quite a day.

First, I had to be up at 8am, which is usually when I’d be in bed, watching YouTube videos of retail workers snapping and beating up rude customers. After rousting myself out of bed, I decide to be proactive and pack a cooler; if I’m climbing a big ass mountain, I’m gonna need a few beers to take the edge off. After finishing up my hiking survival kit, I drove over to my friend’s place to pick her up and head out. Now, she’s a bit more experienced than I am, and she’s definitely in better shape than I am, so when she said that Mt. Douglas was an easy climb, I was a tad skeptical. Upon arrival, I notice that the parking lot is half a mile away from the start of the climbing path, and primarily uphill. Great, I get a taste of what I’m in for today.

After trekking up the road to the trail entrance, I notice that the trail is awfully steep for a so-called “easy climb” and begin to question my decision. As we begin the climb, I notice that I forgot my water bottle in the car, half a mile away. After weighing my options, I decide that Miller Lite is going to have to do for the time being.

About half an hour into the hike, my legs start to get sore, and we take a break. From this height, I can see the entire valley, and it’s breathtaking. Even from halfway up. My friend starts talking about all of these crazy places she wants to go, and I’m thinking “Let’s settle down there, we haven’t even finished this hike, and we’re talking about going on another one?” I spark up a joint, refresh my beverage, and try to muster the energy to move.

Another half hour later, we’re almost at the top, and I’m running out of gas. I think to myself, if some crunchy granola hippy can do this tripping face on acid, I can too. I channel every 80’s action hero and football player and push through the pain. Fuck, I need to get in shape again. After running out of inspirational 80’s figures, we reach the top of the mountain.

I get it now. I get why people do this to themselves. From the top of the tower pictured above, you can see for miles. I can even see Sebago Lake, and I’m betting if I had some binoculars, I could see my house too. As I’m still enjoying the scenery, and my third beer-flavored water, my friend is getting ready to head back down. I’m not having any of that, I spent 2 hours busting my ass to get here, I’m gonna stay here as long as I damn well please. I’m thinking about how much of a bitch it will be to climb/fall down this mountain, and I’m trying to stall as much as I can so I can climb down this mountain safely and not look like an out-of-shape disaster. Before I go down, I get the wonderful idea to pee off the face of the mountain, and I stand by this decision, because it was awesome. I finish my last beer, and mentally prepare myself for the return journey.

The thing about going down a mountain; it’s a little easier than I thought. As we descend, I start to get a feel for the terrain, and begin to walk a little faster. Mistake. Not even 15 seconds after adjusting my pace, I trip on a root and fall on my face. After laughing to myself about how funny that probably looked, I reassess my speed. We’re now about 3/4ths of the way down, thanks gravity. We finish up our climb and walk back to the car, where I immediately fall into my seat, exhausted and a little buzzed. I think to myself, hey, it’s better than being at work.

My Rocky Relationship With ADHD

I’ve heard ADHD described many different ways, but this is my favorite: my brain is a Bugatti with tricycle breaks. It’s scarily accurate, my mind goes a million miles a minute, but the second I’m forced to switch gears, the whole thing collapses. ADHD is a huuge pain in the dick, but it’s also a goddamn superpower. On the one hand, I spent 8 hours making spec banner ads for the Economist, and they were (for the most part) pretty good. There’s always that other hand though, the one where I forget to hand in the homework I spent all night working on, the one where I’m 10 minutes late to everything, the one where I forget to eat all day. Well, you win some, you lose some.

My battle with ADHD, and it is a battle, started when I was in 3rd grade, at the ripe age of 9. This was before doctors started handing out Adderal prescriptions like Oprah hands out cars on Christmas, so I had to go to Children’s Hospital in Boston, undergo 3 hours of testing to make sure I wasn’t just stupid. After being told that I absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt, had ADHD, things started to improve a little. It’s amazing what you can accomplish when you’re prescribed medicinal amphetamines. From that point on, I knew my battle with ADHD would be trench-fucking-warfare, but Adderal would be the tank that stormed the front lines.

ADHD’s a fickle mistress, but she does let you fuck her sometimes. My brain doesn’t work right, so I think of things normal people don’t, and while most of those things are ridiculously stupid and should never be spoken out loud, some of those ideas are brilliant. ADHD has also made it possible for me to consume vast amounts of information in a short period of time. This is generally called “hyper-focus”: a fun little mental quirk that is responsible for railroading whatever gets in it’s way. Hyper-focus is why ADHD is a superpower. I once procrastinated for an entire semester of English, and ended up having to write 16 papers in one day, which I did. Not a single one got less than a B. Superpower.

The problem with having superpowers is you eventually have to fight super villains. My brain, while being an almost-endless source of entertainment, is also a jumbled mess of words and memories. Trying to pick a certain memory or idea out is kind of like Googling a generic word, and trying to find a specific article that uses it once. In addition to my memory problems, I struggle to listen to people sometimes, which makes talking to people very interesting. I’ll be trying to process what the person said, trying to think of a response to that, while trying not to say something stupid, but then I get an idea for a movie that derails the whole train of thought and I’m back to nothing. This has lead me to just say the first thing that comes into my head which, 90% of the time, is not something related to the original topic. On top of that whole basket of fun, I don’t take criticism as well as I could, not because I care what other people think, but because I’ll take that criticism and look at it objectively and overthink the problem until it either goes away, or gets much worse. In the end, I don’t have any choice but to learn as much about ADHD as I can, and to be the best me I can be.

If you get to this part: thank you. Another fun side effect is the inability to control my rambling, and failure to stick to one central point. If this resonated with you, you probably either read the whole thing in 2 minutes, skipped to the end to see what was there, or just completely skimmed it and have no idea what was said. I’ve done all three, there’s no shame in it, do what you can. You’ll be fine, just keep doing what you’re doing and try to be better today than yesterday. You’ll be OK.

The Happiest Place on Earth

I’m incredibly lucky. Have you ever had someone tell you to “Go to your happy place”? Well, it’s a little easier for me to do since I can actually physically go to mine. Ever since I can remember, my family has gone up to Frye Island Maine, it’s a tradition I hope to pass down someday. I’ve been going up for almost 20 years, and it’s part of the reason I am who I am today. This place means the world to me, I’ve even got the town crest tattooed on my chest.

Frye Island is nestled in the middle of Sebago Lake, not quite an hour away from Portland. This leafy-green paradise is where I’ve spent every summer since I was six years old, and I don’t regret a second of it. The people there are, for the most part, warm, friendly people who will help out their neighbors at a drop of a hat. Islanders are a different sort of folk. The majority of them are retired folks over 60 who come up here when Florida gets too hot for them, but there are people from all walks of life here. I met all my best friends here: the people I care about the most just happen to live within walking distance of my house. The Island is a place befitting a Steven King novel, it seems permanently stuck in the past, and that’s not a bad thing.

Frye Island is unique. You can see that before you even get there. Before you even get on the Island, you have to take a ferry that’s older than most of the people riding it, over to the landing. Once you get off the ferry, you might be surprised at what you see: golf carts as far as the eye can see. People use golf carts because 1) it’s a small island, 2) because it’s easier on the wallet than driving a car, and 3) because it’s damn near impossible to fuck up driving. Another fun little secret: people here drink like Prohibition starts at the end of the day.

The alcohol consumption of Frye Island is unmatched by any community, except maybe Wolf of Wall Street-style stock brokers. Just last night I saw a 50 year old man drink himself into such a stupor, that he decided to cut through the neighboring golf course to get home, which is the exact opposite way he came. These people party like a sorority girl on her 21st birthday, another time I was at the bar waiting for my drink, only to have a Jager Bomb dropped into my hands by a 45 year-old woman who was buying them for the whole bar. I’ve gotta hand it to them, I can’t drink like these people do, and I’m no slouch myself.

Frye Island is full of things to do, from waterskiing to golfing, to tennis and basketball, to arts and crafts and trivia. My love of golf was started at the Frye Island Golf Course, most of the hats I own I bought at the pro shop, the course is gorgeous, and just challenging enough that you can play it repeatedly, but not too tough that you cuss out the course and quit. The Island is also home to Mike Anson, a local musician who breaks out his guitar and sings for the crowd and cracks jokes at the bar. If you just want to sit back and relax in peace, don’t worry, Frye Island has 14 public beaches for you to choose from.

I love everything about Frye Island; I love being woken up by the sound if waves crashing against the rocks, I love the subtle hum of boat engines in the distance, I love driving to the beach and drinking a case of beer and enjoying the sun, and most of all, I love the people that make the community great. If you ever get the chance to come out to Frye Island, do it. You won’t regret it, and you might even want to come back.

One Day at a Gas Station Dunkin’

9am- I’m awakened by Juicy J’s soothing voice as he croons “GET UP BITCH, GET UP BITCH, GET UP BITCH, GET UP!” Ahh, another beautiful day. I stumble into the shower and stare at the spout for the next 15 minutes, trying to balance my need to stay warm with my need to eat breakfast.

10am- I finish my shower, only to find out that those “15” minutes were more like 25, leaving me with only an hour and a half to eat breakfast and watch COPS. I shovel down my breakfast, ( 3 slices of buttered toast, half an apple, and a glass of OJ, if you were wondering) and began to watch COPS.

11am- 35 blissful minutes of eating and watching dumb people get arrested. At 11:35, I begin my trek to work.

12pm- I step into my Dunkin’ to find that everyone in my tiny farm town wants to get a sandwich. The person who opened has been here since 4am, so they’re not really in the mood to help, and they quickly exit the building. After dealing with the crowd, who somehow forget their manners after waiting all of 3 minutes to order, I tackle the 20 minutes of work I have to do that day. Coffee count: 1 cup

1pm- Downtime. At this point, I’ve pretty much done all I need to do. I sit back, crank some music, and wait for either customers to come in, or a good idea to pop into my head. Coffee count: 3 cups.

2pm- I wander about the store, looking for things to do, and clean up after the animal that decided to leave a pizza box (and 2 slices of pizza) on top of the toilet, with sauce and cheese splattered all over the floor. Great. Coffee count: Still 3 cups

3pm- A large group of landscapers come in, spending 15 minutes deciding what they want to get asking me if we sell burgers and beer. After ordering 4 different drinks, 5 sandwiches, and enough hash browns to feed a small horse, they leave. No tip. Coffee count: 3 cups, working on 4.

4pm- On Twitter now, I’ve been obsessed with reading all of the thirsty dudes who comment thirsty dude things on famous women’s posts. God Bless the lowly social media manager who has to read all these. A geriatric gentleman comes up to the counter and orders his coffee, small black decaf. After confirming 4 times that his coffee was indeed decaf, the gentleman takes a sip. “That’s not decaf, MAKE IT AGAIN!” So much for the Greatest Generation. After making his coffee again, the exact same way, he takes a sip, looks satisfied, and walks out. A 8 year old kid comes over and asks for a blueberry coolatta, which doesn’t exist, but the kid is super polite, so I do my best to accommodate. After combining blue raspberry and bluberry coffee into a coolatta, I hand the kid his beverage. He takes a sip, gives a huge smile and puts a 5 in my tip jar. I’m sure his parents are wondering where that 5 went. Thanks, kid. Coffee count: 4 cups.

5pm- This is usually when the characters start to come out. The first one I get is a 6’5, wildly tattood man who smells strongly of weed and cheap cigars. He orders his coffee in Spanish, a language I don’t speak. After informing him of my ignorance, he repeats his order, only louder. This does not help. After pointing to every item on the menu, I decipher his order, and send him on his way. Coffee count: 5 cups.

6pm- By this point in my shift, my customer service energy is all but depleted, and my interactions with customers begin to sour. After shooing off some freeloaders who want to try every flavor of coffee without buying any, I start to prepare my store for closing. After counting the donuts, preparing the cold brew for tomorrow (and screaming into the walk-in for a moment), one of my regulars steps in. He’s all of 5’2, grey hair pulled back into floor-length dreadlocks, and he is my favorite part of my day. After regaling me with stories from the 1950’s, he orders his coffee, medium dark roast with blueberry and raspberry flavoring. He sits quietly for a time, sipping his coffee in silence, before exclaiming, as he always does, “This is the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had!” Before he leaves, he beckons me closer and slips me a 24oz craft beer: his usual tip. Coffee count: 5 cups.

7pm- This is game time, I’ve got 45 minutes to do something that usually takes 2 people an hour. I heat myself up a croissant, which must send the Bat Signal out to everyone in a 5 mile radius, because by the time I take my first warm, delicious bite, my store is filled with people. One person, a short Chinese woman who has no grasp on the English language, and takes me on a veritable Wheel of Fortune round to figure out her order. After completing the bonus round, I return to my croissant, which has become hard and cold. Shit. At 7:55, after locking the doors to the store, I begin to count my drawer and do my deposits. Suddenly, I hear a women’s voice pierce the air. What the fuck? How did she get in? I go up to the counter and ask her what she needs, and she starts off on a rant about how the last time she was here, 5 years ago, the store closed at 9. After directing her to the sign with the store hours on it, she veers away and starts going off about how I’m lazy and incompetent, and how she’s gonna have me fired. Oooookay lady, you do that, I’m going home. Coffee count: 6 cups.

8pm- I speed away from Dunkin’ like I’m Jesse Pinkman at the end of Breaking Bad. In 20 hours, I’ll be back to do it all over again.

5 Reasons Why I Think Mad Men Was The Best Show Ever Made

5. It Revolutionized Television

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When Mad Men came out in 2007, there was nothing like it out there, and no one expected AMC to be the one to run it. Prior to Mad Men, AMC was best known for running old movies and TV shows, so the idea to run a TV show set in the 60’s doesn’t seem too left-field for them. The success of Mad Men lead to AMC green lighting terrific shows like Breaking Bad and The Walking Dead, (Seasons 1-3) which lead to more A-List actors doing TV. Mad Men was a cultural event. Every week, millions of people would tune in to see these characters go through the 60’s. If you were old enough to remember that time, you’d talk about the old days. If you weren’t, you’d get a chance to visualize it for an hour. This show connected people, it was the first real water-cooler show of the 2000’s.

4. There is Limitless Re-watchability

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I’ve watched Mad Men all the way through at least a dozen times, and I still pick up tiny new details each time I watch it. From the facial expressions from characters in the background and foreshadowed plot elements hidden in throwaway remarks, to how Don dresses over the decade, Mad Men rewarded re- watchers. The story itself is complex enough that you might understand certain events better after a re-watch, things you missed before become clearer, and foreshadowing is more obvious when you know what it leads up to.

3. It’s A Dazzling Period Piece

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From the leisure suits, to the classic cars, to the way they talked to each other, Mad Men serves as a time capsule of the 60’s-70’s. It’s supposed to be shocking the way they treat women and minorities, it’s supposed to be shocking when the Draper family leaves their picnic trash on the side of the highway. That’s how you know we’ve grown as a society. We need that, now more than ever. Our society has changed so much since 1960, that we need a reminder of why we needed to change, why that behavior isn’t acceptable anymore. On the other hand, how cool it is to see historical events effect characters we’ve grown to care about? That’s the thing about Mad Men, you go along for this ride with these characters, and see their morals and values shaken as time goes on, and by the time the show is over, the characters you’ve spent so much time with are completely changed for the better Except Harry Crane, fuck him.

2. Perfect Usage of Music

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One of my favorite moments in the entire show is when Don and Peggy dance to “My Way” after figuring out the strategy for Burger Chef. This is a crucial moment for Don and Peggy, and one of the few wholesome moments on the show. The moment comes after seasons of Don mistreating Peggy, not acknowledging her accomplishments or her personal growth, only to have the roles reversed, with Peggy on top. I love how the Don/Peggy dynamic is capped off by Don finally treating Peggy as an equal after all the hard work and sacrifice it took to get there. Music is used sparingly on Mad Men, and that was makes these moments so special, as shown by the usually strait-laced Pete Campbell smoking a joint and checking out girls in the creative lounge as Janis Joplin’s “Piece of my Heart” plays. Another cool thing about the music of Mad Men is that all of the episodes end in period-accurate songs, not just the popular ones everyone knows either, there are some obscure 50’s hits in there too, which helps paint a nostalgic picture of the 1950’s.

1. The Character Growth

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This is it. This is the key factor that made Mad Men must-see TV. As you follow Don Draper over the course of his life, you see subtle, as well as not-so-subtle, aspects of his character grow and decay. The prime example is his alcohol abuse. Don Draper, like many of the employees at SCDP, has the liver of a stereotypical Irish bartender. His drinking starts off slow, but steady, and as the seasons, and the stresses of life go on, you see Don pouring more and more whiskey down his throat, to the point where he breaks down and cries at a Hershey pitch meeting, effectively ruining his career. Don isn’t the only character who blossoms though, the women of Mad Men are more interesting then the men most times. Let’s look at Peggy and Joan, they both have a similar goal: to be taken seriously. Joan struggles with being looked at as a piece of meat, and not as a capable, intelligent woman, and is frustrated when men ignore that. Peggy has the same issues, but is treated differently after she displays talent and drive. Both of these women are treated as second-class citizens in an era that is rapidly changing and growing. There were 7 seasons of Mad Men, so you get to follow these characters through so many important events, and see why they do the things they do, and that was refreshing to see. I really hope they have a reunion someday and give us another look into the lives of the employees of SCDP, as well as all the secondary characters, just to see where they went and what they did with their lives after the finale. That’s how good this show is. Watch it.

Fuck Being Famous

I don’t understand it, why would anyone want to be famous? I can’t think of anything worse than being an A-Lister. I’m a private person, so the idea of having people who like my work come up to me and invade my privacy and take a picture kinda bugs the shit out of me. Imagine you’re Jay-Z: you work 120 hours a week, you’re constantly busy, and the few hours a week that you get to just relax and hang out with your beautiful family, some asshole is going to come up and tell you how dope Reasonable Doubt was and ask for a picture. No, thank you. Fuck off.

On the other hand, maybe it evens out. Being that visible probably makes you a goldmine for advertising, your personal brand can make you more money than almost any other venture. Additionally, people want to suffocate you with praise and gifts, you’re allowed into places other people could only dream of, and you can even get away with murder. (Shouts out to OJ) In addition to all of those perks, you get to use your co-sign to elevate the people you care about. So it can’t all be bad, or else no one would want to be famous.

Overall, I don’t think I’m equipped to be famous, I’m kind of an asshole, if you can’t tell, I wouldn’t want to be drunk one night and be a dick to someone, only to find a video of it up on TMZ for God and my mother to see. I don’t think we let celebrities fail enough. They’re people too, kinda. If Tom Cruise is having a bad day because someone broke into his house and asked him to sign their Top Gun DVDs, I couldn’t judge him for freaking out and backhanding a pedestrian. The amount of therapy and drug abuse needed to maintain that lifestyle isn’t attractive to me. What’s all the money and access in the world worth if you can’t enjoy it?

Why My Life Would Suck Without Music

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Every morning at 8:30 I awake to the gentle, soothing sounds of “GET UP BITCH, GET UP BITCH, GET UP BITCH GET UP!” Juicy J has a knack for getting me out of bed. After jamming out with Mr.J for a minute, I get up, get dressed, and put on something more relaxing, (I’ve been leaning towards Mac Miller’s Swimming lately). Then I get into my car and push play on my “Driving” playlist, belting out lines from “99 Problems” while stuck in traffic. After properly hyping myself up for work, I start to veer off in different directions while I try and make 8 hours of Dunkin Donuts tolerable. After finishing my shift in Hell, I like to put on something happy to offset all the stupidity that I usually have to deal with working retail. Music is a constant part of my life, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Life’s better with a soundtrack, in my opinion. Most of my memories are hazy and faint, but certain songs crystallize these fragments and make them feel more significant. My life is divided into genres of music. I first started listening to Dad Rock (Zeppelin, Aerosmith, Pink Floyd, The Who, etc) in middle school, because that’s what my parents listened to, and I had nothing to compare it to. As I grew up, I started to branch out and explore other genres. Ironically, I got into rap with Cypress Hill, before I started smoking weed. I don’t think many people can say the same. Cypress Hill introduced me to a whole different sound: that dark, ominous production style that DJ Muggs birthed. Cypress Hill introduced me to a bunch of old-school rappers that I probably wouldn’tve had access to before; Snoop Dogg, Eminem, The Alchemist, Dr.Dre, Kottonmouth Kings (yikes) These were my staples up until college. These were the people I listened to and took advice from, as stupid as that is.

The songs I used to listen to on repeat don’t hit me the same: they have a hint of nostalgia to them. Every time I listen to “Hits from the Bong” I flash back to those worry-free days, smoking a dime bag out of a bong I made out of a liter bottle, a pen, and a trumpet mouthpiece, thinking I was on top of the world. Now, I look for music that blows my mind. For example, the first time I heard “Space Song” by Beach House, I was blown away, I’d never heard anything like it and I had to have more. It took me by surprise that something that awesome had been waiting for me, within my reach. I usually hate change and trying new things, but I’ll listen to pretty much anything once. I don’t understand it, but it’s exposed me to so many different artists that I would’ve shrugged off otherwise.

Whenever I’m feeling shitty, or unhappy, or tired, or angry, anything really, music can Image result for mac millerchange that, and that’s incredible to me. If work’s got me down and miserable, I put on Malibu by Anderson .Paak, and 15 minutes later, I’m belting out the words to “Heart Don’t Stand a Chance” with a smile on my face. That is something precious, there aren’t many things that effect my mood anymore. I can put on Jay-Z and feel like I can take on the world. I put on Mac Miller and close myself off to that world. Music is also something I use to relate to people: I’m not a big “people” person, I’m quiet and grumpy, and don’t like meeting new people. That all changes if I find out you like the same music as I do, I’ll probably like you a whole lot more and be nicer to you than if you kept it to yourself. I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t put on my headphones and escape for a while. I’m sure I probably would’ve snapped long ago.