Me.
Because I fucked up. And I have no idea how to fix this headache I’ve created. My only recourse is to passively accept the help I’ve been given but really, really don’t deserve.
Sigh.
And I was having a fun night, too.
Talk about a clash of the titans. You have two academics (one a Harvard professor and the other, the editor of Die Zeit) versus a pair of politicians/high-ranking EU officials.
My favourite part was when Ferguson and Joffe sneeringly admonished their opponents for treating the debate like one of the bitter shouting matches you’d find in EU Parliament or, in Mandelson’s case, the British “House of Commons.” In response—and this is the best fucking response an affronted member of the House of Lords can come up with—Peter Mandelson patronizingly tells Niall Ferguson that “you’ll get there! You’ll get there! I promise you’ll get there!”
God, I figuratively shat my pants. It was that catty. I mean, these are some of the most respected and highly revered individuals in both politics and academia, and here is the former EU Trade Commissioner throwing a gibe at Niall Ferguson’s secret political aspirations.
Gad. This whole debate—I can’t.
So I know it’s de rigueur nowadays to pretend to have an accepting society, but, honestly, who the fuck listens to house music? I went to Celebrities last night to see Wolfgang Gartner. Yes, this is the part when I roll my eyes. I have no idea who the guy is, except for the fact that he likes loud, douche bag music and that “he’s kind of like Avicii, but not really.”
And instead of asking who the fuck Avicii was, I decided to just go with the flow and have fun, because this is what people my age do, right? They cake their faces, wear uncomfortable clothing, buy sugary drinks, and, apparently, spend $30 to listen to bad music.
As much as it irks me to openly judge people based on what they like to listen to, I can’t help but find it all just a bit bizarre. The whole landscape of “club culture” is bizarre to me. How can anyone listen to these cranked-up, never-ending, overly-synthesized monstrosities, and genuinely like them? Or, at the very least, tell them apart from other songs, because God knows they all sounded the same by 2 AM?
Bizarre, I tell you.
But enough about the cultural decline of my generation. I should get up…and do things.
Adios!
Ever wonder what the top world leaders do at Camp David?
They watch Chelsea FC win the Champions League.
This picture is perfect.
Chelsea FC, an English club, just won Europe’s biggest football competition, and David Cameron is unabashedly thrilled. Then, you have Obama, who is projecting the correct amount of enthusiasm for his ally, while strategically placing himself between Cameron and a frosty-looking Merkel. The German Chancellor, of course, is stunned speechless by Bayern Munich’s loss (Bring on the age-old Anglo-German rivalry!). And then there’s sedate Italian PM Mario Monti, who naturally does not give a fuck; and his French neighbour, the newly elected Francois Hollande, remains shafted in the corner. Finally, you have Jose Manuel Barroso, the President of the European Commission. In keeping with his staid, nonpartisan EU self, he simply watches the match in a quiet and detached manner.
Whoever said a picture is worth a thousand words obviously knew what he or she was talking about.
