Narcissus' Echo

Thoughts, tears, rants, ruminations, hopes, fears, love(s), and prayers of just another being passing through this wracked sphere...

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A round peg in a world of square holes...

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

The Emperor's New Clothes

There is a saying, "Clothes maketh the man," and, despite it being the unfortunate norm in society (I totally agree with Eve), I disagree and refuse to conform to it. Then again, I have been always known more as a reactionist, rather than a conformist. That's just me. You may have D&G, Abercrombie & Fich, Armani, CK, Hillfiger models on your walls, I have postcard images of Ted Kaczynski, Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Mishima, and T. S. Eliot, on mine. We are all different; I am different. Deal with it. I believe brains make the man. Dress up an idiot in a suit, and he would still be an idiot in a suit. A genius in a suit or naked is still a genius. To be flippant (here I go again): Tommy Lee Jones in that "Big Bird Fried Chicken" mascot outfit still carries the gravitas of Tommy Lee Jones. One can dress up Chris Rock in a tuxedo and he would still be the whinny bitch that he is.

Not to get into another long-drawn discussion with Eve (blogs are for expressing our uniquely personal takes after all. Debates are better suited to forums/messageboards), but what I was getting at in my anecdote about Larry Ellison in t-shirt, shorts and sandals on Sunday mornings in the Palo Alto branch of "House of Bagels" is that Larry Ellison is still Larry Ellison with his personal jet, Oracle, house in Atherton (near Steve Jobs), and billions of dollars, regardless of what the strangers around him perceive him as. That was my point.

We had a famous author visiting recently: Augusten Burroughs. He wore jeans, a long sleeved shirt with cuffs unbuttoned and tucked outwards, under a sports jacket, sneakers and spotting a baseball cap turned backwards. Hardly anyone gave him the time of the day when he walked around campus BEFORE his Q&A session and lecture in the Recital Hall, ESPECIALLY the business students (I have a huge chip on my shoulder with regards to most business students (Economics exempted) who aren't already my friends, but more about that later). They just thought he was some drifter. BUT get this: after his identity became known, along with the REALLY IMPORTANT peripheral details like: his books have been on the New York Times Best Selling List multiple times, and that he is RICH, and also WELL-CONNECTED in Hollywood, all these shallow parasites start fawning over this Mr. Burroughs and kissing his ass. Suddenly, it's Soddom and Gomorrah! Jebus! Have some friggin' dignity, people! Oh, wait, that's impossible: you are business students; you will not only sell your souls, but publish a (poorly written) book about it. Never mind.

Now, before I get brickbats thrown at me (not that I care. *shrug* Read the First Amendment. BTW, here's my finger ), I don't detest ALL business majors, just those that are alive (hyuk!). Seriously, anyone who goes through college thinking a 5 to 7 paragraph essay (or a 6-paged essay) is a formidable task , and that PowerPoint is the be all and end all of presenting complex ideas is hardly getting an education. To misquote Jack Nicholson, you can probably get equivalent schooling "in some Panama Sailor wanna Hump-Hump Bar." Science and Theology majors rank far higher in my estimation. Most business students are on the same level as used-car salesmen, IMHO: they would sell their own mothers if there was profit in it.

Not to be arrogant, but, to THAT business student out there (you know who you are and I KNOW you are reading this) who said, in these exact words, "Ben can't write,": it must have been quite a shock for you to see my name on the board under the list of prize winners for essays on literary criticism and theory, eh?

Are you going to be saucy with your shoe now, Sirrah?
Or would you prefer a finger?

Here's a tip for you: Having Armani Exchange on your back has nothing to do with one's virtuosity with words (or lack thereof). How does it feel to be one-upped by someone shuffling around in a $14 ancient Hard Rock "Save the Earth" T-shirt circa 1996, I wonder?

That said, I am a magnanimous spirit though: I will write your epitaph for free. Leave instructions for your next-of-kin to contact me.

Exception No. 1: I WILL dress up to match my Significant Other. That is a mark of respect for your loved one.
As for the rest? Read below...

Exception No. 2: Through all these years, my stock reply to the those who comment on my being underdressed is to reply with sincere appreciation and reply with warm assurance that I will most definitely dress up for their funeral.

My personal creed is best voiced by Polonius, "This above all: to thine own self be true..."

I am. Are you?


Blogger daftbitch said...

one word KNN, u copy after my blog.
heh heh...

I am foul mouth & smelly pretty (translate smelly pretty to cheena) daftbitch...

don't use big funny words or authors on me. Cos my blogs are mostly whatever gibberish i read on the internet.

6:24 PM  

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