Hullo. Sorry to bother you. To be fair you clicked on the headline-thing I wrote so it is largely your fault. My name is Eddie. Having no experience writing anything of note and an incredibly low standing in life, I felt compelled and uniquely qualified to begin writing a column judging other people.
I will argue for and against current cultural ideas, but due to my wilting personal life I’m sure I will remain rather negative. I would apologise for that, but this is my column so I can do what I want. If it helps you you can imagine the words that you want to see on the screen. Or perhaps squint.
I look forward to building a far too intimate and trusting relationship with you, which ends abruptly as you spend your life savings on my revolutionary new cryptocurrency (givememoneymoneynownowcoin) and I move to Malibu never to be heard from again.
The concept of cringe – against
A fitting first topic to include in a column which will surely come back to haunt me. The weapon of choice for sad losers and those brainwashed by the CIA or whatever evil overlord you subscribe to, the concept of cringe has served to nail down free birds like you and I for what feels like forever. It is wielded by all the most inconsequential people in society, from Nike Tech wearers to briefcase clutchers, all united by the crushing of their pipe dreams or more hauntingly, having never had them in the first place.
Saddened by the crushing of their dreams (or as I say the lack of them), they nudge shoulders and nod heads, hoping to alert others of our attempts to do frankly anything. Together, they beg us to stop pursuing our dreams, so that we will stop reminding them of their failure to realise their own.
Performative males – on the fence
One can only feel sympathy for the performative male. As their jorts chafe their inner thigh and the page of their feminist literature cuts their manicured fingers, their eyes dart anywhere but the page, hoping to lock eyes with someone who will give them the attention their mothers didn’t.
Like a dog for a treat, they will do anything to make us happy but if you let your guard down they will try to hump your leg.
Ashamed of the personality that their affluent conservative upbringing gave them, they set sail for a new identity but come to shore on a wave of insincerity. No more talk of “ruggers” and their love of the high-performance podcast, it’s all about the new Fred Again “tune” and their backpacking trip around Tunisia, which they refuse to mention how they got the money for.
While the deceit inherent in their performance draws deep disdain from both myself and I would hope yourself, the insecurity which fuels them draws a sympathy from me which buffets their position to a rating of “on the fence”. Decisive I know.
Fin
Can you tell that I wrote this in one two-hour sitting? Bloody hope not. That concludes my first entry to what I’m sure will be a long and storied column. Feel free to leave a comment or email me if you feel anything about what I wrote at all. I have far too much time on my hands so I will almost certainly read it. Perhaps I will concede to your point in a later edition or laugh and jeer at your idiocy.
Alright I’ve got to go now. Okay bu-bye. Bye bye. No you hang up first! No you hang up first! No seriously I’m hanging up the phone.
Are you still there?
Cover art by Lily Williams, an excellent friend and artist. Find more of her stuff at @lilsarts on Instagram!
