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Nobody calls me emo

For reasons completely outside my sphere of understanding, my article on indie has generated more buzz than anything I’ve written this year. You’d think I’d written about abortion or something. As you can see from these letters to the editor, some people love me and some people hate me. What’s interesting is that both groups pulled assertions from the piece that I wasn’t even aware I was making; strike that – assertions I did not make. I’m certainly not speaking for Seattle’s indie population, as the DJ who thinks I’m an idiot’s opinion should prove. As far as her letter is concerned, where do I begin? I write in the first paragraph that I don’t want to define indie, then get criticized for defining it poorly. Of course I didn’t mention every indie band of which I’m aware – the article’s only 15″.

I stick to a statement I’ve made in the past: anyone who writes a letter to the editor concerning one of my articles is in dire need of a life.

I haven’t been around much lately, mostly because my life at the moment consists entirely of reading assignments. I’ve been behind on my reading since the first day of school, and that pattern doesn’t seem likely to change. The good news is that while English classes are a lot of work, you aren’t necessarily held accountable for any of it. It’s not very difficult to fake understanding of a novel whose sole point is “slavery is bad” spread out over 240 pages, nor is it hard to listen to class discussion and thereby defeat the purpose of attending lecture. Sadly, I have not so much as a single grade to show for my troubles in any of my classes. I suppose it won’t matter much in the end, but in the meantime it makes me a little antsy to have the grade for 5 credits worth of work riding on a single paper and midterm, neither of which I’ve written yet.

Posted in Musings.


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