I get Rolling Stone and I don't know why. I mean, it's not like I don't understand Rolling Stone, I mean that every month it comes to my house and I don't know why. I never asked for it, I don't remember anybody giving it to me for a present, I have no ideas as to how it began to appear in my mailbox. But it does, so I sort of feel obligated to read it. I don't want to but I know that somewhere some people worked very hard to make this publication come to my door so I kind of want to do it for them.
Aside from that however, I don't know why I read it. First of all, it sucks. It is not what it used to be at least. Back in the day it was bigger, and that in itself was cool. It set it apart as something that you don't see everyday. It was the journal of rock n' roll at a time when rock n' roll was so much more than music. But what is it now?
It's something that I can can barely stomach to read. I am sorry to all of you Rolling Stone fans out there, but that is the truth. I find it preachy, pretentious and off-putting. Whenever I read through the pages I get the distinct feeling that I am not good enough to be reading it, that I am not cool enough to have even the slightest clue as to what they are talking about, that I don't listen to the right music and that I don't do enough to help the world.
Well here's the deal, Rolling Stone: I don't give a rats ass, okay? I am definitely good enough to read you, because glossy pages and writing like you are taking dictation for Dennis Miller does not a high end publication make. I am definitely cool enough because I don't walk to the beat of whatever drummer I think that I should be walking to, I definitely listen to the right music because it is the music that I like and that is what I am supposed to listen to, right? And I think that I do enough to help the world, because while I might not be running around Africa sniffing Bono's ass I would like to think that I make the world a little better for the folks with whom I come in contact. That's called grass roots but I wouldn't expect you to know anything about that, Rolling Stone. Because grass roots is not "cool," so you don't do it.
Unfortunately, Rolling Stone, the bulk of us walking around out there live in what is called the real world, in which we don't really have time to comb through college record stores in San Francisco because, well, the BART doesn't stop there and we are probably going to be late even if we take the express train. We don't have time to run around doing concerts with U2 because we can't just do work for free, except on weekends when we maybe can get some time to work with Habitat for Humanity or maybe raise some money for the friendly local fire department, which is smart because those people will come save my house if it starts on fire. We can't spend a bunch of time taking pot shots at President Bush because we are busy taking pot shots at Rolling Stone. Well, at least I am.
And then, just when I was getting all riled up at Rolling Stone, it prints something like the following sentence: "The surprising train-wreck season of sniveling NFL superdouche Jay Cutler proves it beyond any doubt..." How can you walk away from a sentence like that? There are not many other magazines that would have the balls to print something like that, so I suppose that you have to give them some credit. But that's how they do it. That's the trick here. That's the method to the madness. It took me a while to figure out, but I think I have a handle on it now. Rolling Stone is like that friend who is always plugged in, always knows more than you, and always knows it. And they always make sure that you know it. So they are consistently looking down their nose at you sort of, but every once in a while they do something redeeming and completely cool, and they let you in on it. So then you are sort of cool by proxy and you can go on about your business and sort of ride the coattails to whatever it leads to. With Rolling Stone you are cool by association, even when it comes to your door unrequested. So maybe I will keep letting it come and I will keep thumbing through the pages, even if there aren't any pictures of hot chicks in it anymore, even though I don't care about a word that it says really. Plus, one can't get enough cool in their life, right?