eConfession #4: My ears are bleeding. From all of the whining.

eConfession #4:  My ears are bleeding.  From all of the whining.
An insider's look at the mind of Sheila Q.

An insider’s look at the mind of Sheila Q.

I’m not sure I’m going to be able to do justice to the dissection this trend.  I fear I’ll fall prey to it, using the medium in this message.  I’m uncertain my pop culture commentator can speak from the peanut gallery without a bleeding in of what, in the words of the immortal Samurai Jack (thank you Genndy Tartakovsky), ‘arouses my ire’.

The trend is the wasteland of the ‘whine-worthy’.  Justified carpery.

See, that’s just it, ire arousal entitlement.  We’re hearing an awful lot from Grumpy, The Grinch, Oscar and Statler and Waldorf these days – they are occupying a very particular pop culture peanut gallery these days, a venomous, grouchy bunch, quite ready to project what reads as some intense inner dissatisfaction.  I think what happened is making peace with being picked last in gym class (that was my case enough to know) until a particular act, event or individual (often all three) trigger ‘the bench’, and all of the ire comes out, moltenly flowing.  It just comes across as that…I don’t even want to cite specific storylines, grumps, grumpuses or people being grumped about, although rhymes with Rylie Styrus and Marcade Pire could cue you.  As for those social commentators getting their bile up on a regular basis these days, I’m naming your peanut gallery.  It’s now…THE BILERY.

When I read it, this is how it sounds.

There’s a David vs. Goliath, Revenge of the Nerds feel, a need for victorious uprising against the ‘haves’.  Underdogs vs. Wonderhogs?

Wait, I can feel it!  I’m grumping back!  I don’t want to!  It’s a symptom!


Oh shazbot-a-lula.  I’m succumbing to this horrid case of kvetchitis pooping up the ‘Net and stuff!

How to turn the ship arouuuuuund nowwwww?

Well, I guess you just do.  There’s a lazy intellectual feeling about being at the keyboard and indulging in meaty expressive vocabulary, this I know, making grousing easy, ego-satisfying and great for your brain, it’s just that I’m longing for this mode of expression to make like The Fonz and jump the shark already.

I could really knuckle down and trace this thing, back to a Seinfeld episode or some such spot that launched the torrid trickle down, but I really don’t need to know from whence this spawned.  I understand that bile is also very useful, but sparingly, right?

I’m not suggesting that we need to Rainbow Brite it up or anything, showering down positastic marzipan fireworks and shooting rainbows out of our arses, but maybe there’s a midway between Kreacher and Dobby that we all might venture to?

Perhaps we’ve developed an appetite for something just a little less bully, and a little more beef, and the majority of what we’re fed is resulting in pop culture indigestion.  We all need a good palate cleanse with a little class, a little less commentary, a little more whoa is me.

Categories: Opinion

About Author

Sheila Quinn

Sheila Quinn (known as media mum Sheila Q.) is a radio show host, columnist, music-infused, mother of two/stepmother of two, half of DHTV’s Les Curieux media team, den mother, who works for Champlain Regional College in Lennoxville. Sheila Q.’s bucket list tends to be self-sustaining. She has lots of plans.

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