My dad has a word that says it best: “oongabloosm”. It’s a feeling that takes its cue from “meh” and takes another step. A kind of ennui with an extra exhaustion tacked on. Things out of your grasp prodding you deeply enough that they can twist the knife a little. It’s like exhaling while grunting, the weakest form of “fuck you” you can give to the world around, to let it know it’s affected you and you’re not prepared to do anything about it.
I feel “oongabloosm”.
Thing is, I shouldn’t. By all accounts, I should be walking with head held high. My day has been filled with free food, always a nice feature of a rompingly joyous workday. A co-worker had brought Thunder Bay Persians in for us all, complete with spreadable icing. Then another co-worker gave me a bunch of Northern Hemisphere Weet-Bix substitutes. Mushed up with milk they had the textures of memory. Great, gimme that Weet-Bix! Next up the media team laid out the leftovers of their lunch meeting: Southern roasted chicken, breaded tenders, dressed salad, spicy mac and cheese. Absurd, right? To add to all this I’m catching up with My Favourite Ex tonight, we’re seeing Guillermo del Toro’s new flick Crimson Peak in the VIP cinema to celebrate her new job, then I get to snuggle with my lovely girlfriend. Everything’s coming up Milhouse, right?
Still, it’s fucking oongabloosm all over. I’ve been on the internet and it’s turds all the way down. Do you ever get to a point where things are making you feel shit, so instead of taking evasive measures you spread your arms like Nic Cage in City of Angels, rotate and let it all rain down on you as Goo Goo Dolls’ Iris plays in the background?
Dan Harmon was drunk on a plane last night and delivered a series of unnecessary and cruel tweets (maybe 29 or so) with no real justification. I wish I could say the behaviour surprised me, but I value honesty here. It sucked. It’s shitty to see someone you look up to in many ways acting like a shitty bully without remorse. There’s no excuse that validates this scenario, the guy was a fan, he didn’t have a strong grip of English and his comments were hugely benign. I love Dan Harmon’s work, I have a huge respect for his wit and intelligence and often for his scope and perspective. None of this came into play seeing him piling his own shit onto an internet stranger. It was sad to watch and bummed me out how unexpected it wasn’t.
Another big factor is the resurgence of all this Tony Veitch bullshit. For anyone who isn’t a New Zealander, Tony Veitch is (I can’t believe I’m still using the present tense here) a New Zealand sports broadcaster who, 6 years ago, came under fire for viciously beating his ex-wife, breaking her back and trying to pay for her silence. “New Zealand’s Chris Brown” is the closest TL;DR we have here. Because this world has the capacity to be a pile of shit, he somehow got his job back at Radio Sport. Recently he posted a dumb comment and social media grilled him for it in the context of his past crimes. Then he came back and posted a diatribe whining about his own victimhood and overcoming a “hideous relationship” to once again triumph. For the most part there’s been widespread condemnation about what a heap of human detritus he is, but somehow that fails to be universal. In violation of decent humanity, a number of people I’m ashamed to share a Y chromosome with offered messages of support to poor toxic masculinity poster child Tony Veitch. Then this article was posted on the popular NZ news site Stuff.co.nz. I’m pretty sure that someone forfeits their right to being treated with basic human decency when they prove they’re incapable of it themselves. I can’t even write about this any more. If you’re interested in hearing a thorough account of this monster, Hadassah Grace wrote an excellent piece on it.
Even writing about it makes me fucking furious. Is that a step up from oongabloosm?