This has been a hard week full of news that left me heartsick, over and over. Frivolous pastimes, like this blog, seem pointless in times like these — or, worse, a guilty luxury. And yet, these are also the small things that help to keep me going. I have never been more grateful that I have the privilege of distraction; that, by some lucky twist of fate, my immigrant parents sought a new life in a country that was not afraid to welcome us with open arms. I am not sure how much longer it will be feasible to maintain an apolitical space like this blog given the current climate; for now, I am going to embrace a little frivolity on this Friday morning and I hope you guys will join me in the same spirit.

As the title suggests, some random musings:

One

I recently fell down a My So-Called Life rabbit hole. Can you believe MSCL was on the air more than 20 years ago? It does not compute. I still, vividly, remember watching it; it was weirdly cathartic. I was roughly the same age as Angela Chase and vaguely resembled the actress playing her. My teenage life was far less eventful than Angela’s, but watching the show still somehow felt like watching my inner landscape blown up on a screen. There is just one thing I hated about it. The ending. I remember my teenage self being really mad at Angela for choosing Jordan effing Catalano over Brian. Which is weird, because in real life I was all about the Jordan Catalano types for a long time – far too long into my 20s even. Anyway, reading a bunch of retrospectives on the show and whatnot, I got to wondering: was I in the minority in wanting Angela to pick Brian? Was I wrong? I mean, I know I felt very strongly about my opinion at the time but I went on to make the exact same choice as Angela more times than I care to remember, so what was that all about? If you watched the show (then and/or later), let’s talk through this.

Two

A couple of weeks ago, I saw a clip of Stephen Colbert and Patrick Wilson singing the US national anthem at some kind of sports game. I don’t remember what kind of game, don’t ask; my priorities are different, okay? More importantly, my latent Patrick Wilson Problem has now flared up again. “Tall, captain of the football team who can sing” is only just below “dark-haired, broody Brit” on my list of Hot Guy Problems. See, also, Scott Michael Foster. The fact that Wilson, self-admittedly, resembles the Least Chris (the Pratt – are we going to fight about this?) is something I struggled with for a minute, but all that is behind us now. Anyway, the last time my Patrick Wilson Problem was in full effect, I didn’t have Netflix. Now, I do. And that is how I came to binge-watch Fargo, which is, in fact, the point of this entire aside. I know I am super late to this particular party, but that is one damn good show. I haven’t gotten into an episodic drama for a while, but this is the best thing I’ve seen since Hannibal last year. Season 2 may be impossible to top (Lou Solverson could just be my dream man), but I am watching season 1 now and it’s also really, really great. As a whole, the show reminds me of The Wire, with its interconnected story lines set in a common “universe” — and also, obviously, the quality of the writing and acting. The performances on Fargo are, across the board, phenomenal, and it’s making me realize how spoiled we are with TV shows these days; even supporting roles are filled by first caliber actors. Thank god for the Golden Age of TV because I’m at a stage where I’d much rather watch a show, on my own schedule and from the comfort of my own house, than trek to a movie theatre to gamble 2 hours of my life on something that may or may not ultimately satisfy.

Three

I have never seen Sleepless in Seattle. Is that a weird gap in my cultural knowledge as a late Gen-X white woman? The reason is that I mostly hate rom-coms, unless they happen to feature one of my Hot Guy Problems du jour. Anyway, I really enjoyed this Vulture article about Sleepless in Seattle’s second-banana male character played by the wonderful Bill Pullman. It brings up a great point about how kindness — in male romantic leads, but I would argue, also more generally in pop culture protagonists — is underappreciated. Think about how many popular characters would qualify as anti-heroes these days; most popular shows and movies are replete with examples. It’s novel and, frankly, refreshing to come across a protagonist who is straight up nice. I’m not talking about a Nice Guy here – because, ugh, we’ve seen enough of those lately; I mean a guy who is the (old) definition of nice: kind and humble, without being a fool or a patsy or a sanctimonious prick. I am sure that it’s not a coincidence that my hankering for a “nice” hero is surfacing at this precise moment, and I can only assume that I’m not the only one in this particular boat. We are currently an under-served demographic, so I hope someone in Hollywood is taking notes.

As a further side-bar to the side-bar, the article reminded me of how much I love reading new takes on the minor footnotes of pop culture. Like, the first time I realized how terrible Love Actually actually is? Amazing. I mean, I will still watch Love Actually every single time it comes on TV, but I loved that article so much.

Four

Celebrity gossip: indulge me for a moment. If you read the same websites I do, you may recall the roll-out of Brad Pitt’s “relationship” with Neri Oxman – the Amal Clooney of the architecture world, or something like that. It was a thing a couple months back. I stopped having strong opinions about Brad Pitt a long time ago, so if there was an interesting angle to the story, for me, it was Oxman’s; there was a little tidbit about how she had been dating a billionaire, and was now dealing with Brad Pitt and I remember thinking – damn, girl. Talk about living one’s best life: a successful, well-respected professional woman, with a billionaire and a famous actor vying for her attentions. (Why is no one making this movie, by the way? I have some casting ideas.) But that was then, and now there’s been an update. Apparently, she chose the billionaire; which, at first, I was totally prepared to understand. Brad Pitt has baggage, you know? And he doesn’t have billions. Also, he’s no Patrick Wilson. But then – plot twist! – I found out who the billionaire is. Are you ready for this? Bill-I’m-gonna-short-Herbalife-but-also-dump-billions-into-Valeant-Ackman. So, now I’m, like, maybe there’s a third option. Maybe Angela Neri should just ride off into the glorious sunset alone. Who’s with me?

As should be apparent by now, I have pretty much given up on the idea of being a “blogger”. I suppose you can call this blogging, but that’s only for lack of a better word. I am not an influencer, or a social media personality, or whatever the term du jour is. Yet, having occupied this space on the periphery of the blogosphere for over a decade (BCRL was not my first go at this particular rodeo), I feel like I am in this peculiar position of being neither/or – not really an insider, but not totally an outsider either. I find it fascinating, from my perch, to observe how blogging is evolving. The current buzzword is authenticity. Readers crave it. Businesses looking after their next marketing push want it. And bloggers are stuck in the middle, spinning their wheels.

I may be exaggerating.

Nevertheless, it is a challenging time to a blogger. There are lots of money to be made, sure – if you’re in the right demographic, with the right resources to get your foot in the door – but it’s also a tough business. Audiences expect a lot, often contradictory things. For example, you cannot get traction as a blogger unless you present an immaculate, careful curated image, but too much curation yields accusations of inauthenticity. The whole premise of blogging-as-a-marketing-business is founded upon aspiration; aspiration and authenticity are not natural bedfellows.

Have you ever read the IG comments of prominent bloggers? It is a very interesting experience.

What has stood out to me the most is the fact that any time a blogger presents content that betrays some less-than-generically-aspirational detail, they get a slew of negative comments. Some of those comments can be downright virulent. As a business trying to attract sponsors, this is not a good strategy. So I completely understand why bloggers retreat behind the blandest façade possible, trying to minimize blowback.

There is, I think, a correlation in many people’s minds between authenticity and relatability. Show me your messy room so I can feel reassured that, at some level, you and I have something in common. Which is fine, but do you expect Goop to be relatable? Do you expect Walmart to be authentic? When you are looking at a successful blogger you are seeing a business managing a million-dollar brand – themselves. (And, before you mention it, lower tier full-time bloggers are no different, even if their income bracket is. Successful blogging, in this day and age, takes a pretty specific path, and anyone who seriously aspires to that success knows it and will strive to pursue it.) Unless a blogger made his or her brand based on “I’m just like you” realness – which is extremely rare – accommodating an audience’s desire for authenticity can be a minefield. Socio-economic class issues alone would torpedo a good many number of well-intentioned bloggers.

I think businesses are getting savvy to these issues. Sure, some are only just now discovering social media, and their blanket sponsorships still end up splashed over questionable blog posts (fashion bloggers talking about their favourite, say, toilet paper – apologies to anyone who has written something like that recently). Others are starting to realize that the ROI very much depends on whether there is an alignment of brands between blogger and product. If a product is being marketed based on its aspirational value, it makes sense to hook up with a blogger who can add to the cachet (and vice versa). If a product is being marketed based on authenticity, a different strategy may be called for. To take a personal example: I never take beauty product recommendations from (monetized) bloggers; but I will try the s**t out of any (inexpensive) products recommended by other commenters on my favourite forums. Someday soon, companies will figure out a way to tap into these networks of small-i influencers and a whole new field of marketing will explode.

Authenticity in social media is hard for anyone, famous or not. You only have to look at something like Refinery29’s Money Diaries to see that. People absolutely tear apart the anonymous diarists over the dumbest s**t. (Honestly, there are days when I feel like the internet is basically the Judgment Olympics – a competition to see who can be the most righteous and judgy.) So whether you are a blogger or a nobody (and especially a non-anonymous nobody), there is very little incentive for laying out your entire life to strangers on the internet.

Which is too bad, because I love reading about the minutiae of other people’s lives.

This brings me to my obligatory expression of regret over the days of old. Indulge me, won’t you.

I grew up in a different, gentler era when people could post all kinds of navel-gazing, earnest crap online without fear of being engulfed by an avalanche of criticism, ridicule, or (much) worse. Ah, we were all much more innocent back then. Having grown up with a now bygone style of blogging, I still seek it out wherever I can. It survives in a few places (smaller blogs, mostly) and I cherish it now in a way I never did before. I’ve been guilty in the past of ragging on bloggers for what were, in retrospect, pretty minor infractions of what I considered “blogging etiquette”. I wouldn’t do that now because I have very little interest in running people off the internet anymore – whether I agree with them or not. I am obviously not speaking about people who espouse racist, sexist, or homophobic views; yet given how prevalent those remain, I find it increasingly easy to let other “differences of opinion” slide. Mommy wars? IDGAF how you raise your child, as long as they are loved, cared for, and (ideally) encouraged to become a productive member of society. Style advice? Hard pass – you do you, and I’ll do me, thanks. The same goes for any other aspect of daily life that lends itself to judgments that have nothing to do with ethics and everything to do with personal preference. I love reading about other people’s choices in these matters; I’m just not interested in debating those choices – theirs or mine. Unfortunately, most days I feel like I’m in the (silent) minority.

I am not sure that this post has a point … except perhaps to say: my, what a tangled web we’ve woven. People like to aspire, but they also enjoy having the opportunity to feel superior. They like pretty things, but they don’t want to be “sold to”. They want to genuinely connect, but they also just want their own value judgments mirrored at them. Bloggers trying to be all things to all people will inevitably fail, and will get mocked for trying. What’s the answer? I have no idea, man.