Snobbin: Beautiful Trash in the Pop Culture Gutter

"They call it youthful idealism / And even I would have to agree with them / Some of us grow up, and it's still there"-Operation Ivy, "Junkie's Running Dry." When I think of coming of age in the late 1990s and early 2000s, I often find myself attempting to recapture those moments of silence or solitude that still existed in an era before social media and 24 hour news cycles took over. While we had cellphones, they were not the pocket computers of today, social media did not exist as it does now, and people could still use the excuse that they were not at home to answer the phone. No one expected us to be on call at all hours of the day, nor did they battle over political talking points in the stratified way they do now. Instead, we could "turn on, tune in, and drop out" like the previous generation, albeit with different drugs and drama, in ways that are often not available to younger generations. I was a master at "dropping out" in those...

Each summer I rack up an amazing list of wasted opportunities, unproductive mishmashes of scattered writing, files full of mindless ramblings all in search of effectual copy. I write a lot and read even more in order to continually perfect my game, but fall under the weight of the work, ineffectually stumbling back months later and wondering where to begin. As writers many of us fall into this pattern, putting work down never to return to it or never able to quite pick up where we left off. Summer is the time for me to supposedly catch up, but life always gets in the way. Even my blog posts trickle recently as dissertation chapters take all of my time. Fiction and essay writing are relegated to brief meanderings as I focus all of my attention on one never-ending project. While I just finished my dissertation introduction, so now I plan on writing more, updating old posts and returning to music, film, comics, and the essayistic scene of the crime instead of dropping in every once in...