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Bloody hormones and sensitivity
May. 4th, 2008 11:08 pmWhile I don't think I'm particularly more grumpy at certain times of the month - frankly, who can tell? - the filters definitely wear a bit thinner, both incoming (in terms of being able to filter out stuff that isn't normally much of a big deal) and outgoing (while judging what and how to say something can be problematic at the best of times, let's just say that aspect is not enhanced).
I did a nice big rant to the CDL and the Bear the other day, about my dislike of the album Bat Out of Hell by Meatloaf. There are a couple of reasons for that dislike. One is that, sad to say, it's a class thing. Over-dramatic white trash emoting-via-screaming doesn't really give me warm fuzzies at the best of times. It reminds me of dire parties in smoky drafty garages, shitty loud music playing (at least predominantly Maori parties had better food and decent music), with a bunch of boozed-up men trying to out-macho each other, while their women gossip viciously on the margins, or attempt to outdo each other in swapping turgid tales of their life fuckups. There is a reason I'm mainly attracted to middle-middle or upper-middle class more-rational-than-me (yet sufficiently sensitive) educated types (not that the middle classes are not capable of being dramatic, but they express it less, hm, "messily", and I do duck the more out-there type).
I actually don't mind the track Heaven Can Wait, or the music from the track Bat Out of Hell. Although how anyone can listen without rolling their eyes at such lines as "You're the only thing in this whole world that's pure and good and right" or "And the last thing I see/ Is my heart, still beating .../ Breaking out of my body and flying away/ Like a bat out of hell." Oh, I know every word of this album, believe me.
But, you know, I feel that way about much mid-late 70's macho (although what's so macho or "hard" about a bunch of men screaming in falsetto has always been beyond me) rock. No, I have a special animus for that album because it reminds me of my stepfather... and that's been stirred around a bit subconsciously, as it turns out, by events in the news this past week.
The song I particularly dislike from that album is Paradise by the Dashboard Light. It's apparently supposed to be hilarious, but the tale of a woman pressuring a man into marriage (that he will "love her till the end of time") before she'll let him fuck her is fairly low on my list of humorous topics. And the penultimate lines "So now I'm waiting for the end of time to hurry up and arrive" certainly sums up my view on my mother's first marriage (I'd come along before she married, alas).
( cut for long and personal blurge on child abuse )
Also, it'd be nice to learn to recognise what stirs up rant-prone behaviour before going into rant mode, or having to put up with several nights of horrible dreams before having a light-bulb moment. Heh. At least I get there eventually, at sufficiently frequent intervals.
And thank god that I can vent here when I figure it out... I might actually get some work done now I'm no longer quite so much in the Slough of Despond.
I did a nice big rant to the CDL and the Bear the other day, about my dislike of the album Bat Out of Hell by Meatloaf. There are a couple of reasons for that dislike. One is that, sad to say, it's a class thing. Over-dramatic white trash emoting-via-screaming doesn't really give me warm fuzzies at the best of times. It reminds me of dire parties in smoky drafty garages, shitty loud music playing (at least predominantly Maori parties had better food and decent music), with a bunch of boozed-up men trying to out-macho each other, while their women gossip viciously on the margins, or attempt to outdo each other in swapping turgid tales of their life fuckups. There is a reason I'm mainly attracted to middle-middle or upper-middle class more-rational-than-me (yet sufficiently sensitive) educated types (not that the middle classes are not capable of being dramatic, but they express it less, hm, "messily", and I do duck the more out-there type).
I actually don't mind the track Heaven Can Wait, or the music from the track Bat Out of Hell. Although how anyone can listen without rolling their eyes at such lines as "You're the only thing in this whole world that's pure and good and right" or "And the last thing I see/ Is my heart, still beating .../ Breaking out of my body and flying away/ Like a bat out of hell." Oh, I know every word of this album, believe me.
But, you know, I feel that way about much mid-late 70's macho (although what's so macho or "hard" about a bunch of men screaming in falsetto has always been beyond me) rock. No, I have a special animus for that album because it reminds me of my stepfather... and that's been stirred around a bit subconsciously, as it turns out, by events in the news this past week.
The song I particularly dislike from that album is Paradise by the Dashboard Light. It's apparently supposed to be hilarious, but the tale of a woman pressuring a man into marriage (that he will "love her till the end of time") before she'll let him fuck her is fairly low on my list of humorous topics. And the penultimate lines "So now I'm waiting for the end of time to hurry up and arrive" certainly sums up my view on my mother's first marriage (I'd come along before she married, alas).
( cut for long and personal blurge on child abuse )
Also, it'd be nice to learn to recognise what stirs up rant-prone behaviour before going into rant mode, or having to put up with several nights of horrible dreams before having a light-bulb moment. Heh. At least I get there eventually, at sufficiently frequent intervals.
And thank god that I can vent here when I figure it out... I might actually get some work done now I'm no longer quite so much in the Slough of Despond.
