everybody's special

i'm pretty sure that nobody with actual talent reads my blog (when i get around to posting, that is). legitimized talent, i mean. you guys all rock, but as far as i know, you've never published anything or gotten signed (no, blogs don't count, and neither does the "record label" you thought up when you got stoned on the library roof that one time). anyway, like most losers (and eventual winners, i suppose), i keep trying in spite of the harsh glaring truth and every november, i psyche myself up for the month of plot outlines and carpal tunnel syndrome that is nanowrimo.

and now you musically inclined folks can play too! check it out: the rpm challenge! record an album in 28 days? sounds like a piece of cake to me. though, you only have about 32 hours until the clock starts.

then you have to learn how to play an instrument, find some like-minded saps to accompany you, write a bunch of songs, record them, have artistic differences and go your own way, edit them (the songs, not the differences. though, now that you mention it, your musical pretensions aren't exactly original), leak them to the internet, convince dj dangermouse to remix your shit so the kids will think it's cool, find some kickass cover art, sue the pants off the hipster doofi who illegally downloaded your genius, wallow in your own crapulence, and fall headfirst into the inevitable sophomore slump.

congratulations, you're a rock star! now head on over to pitchfork and hypemachine to obsessively track your "popularity".

ok, fine! yes, i'm slightly bitter, my musical dreams will never be realized! and no, i don't hold that against musicians, more power to them. and maybe, i secretly wish i could pull off the eyeliner look. quit bugging me, don't you have songs to write?