I Can’t Wait To See You Again: Eight Things From 2008 That Are Due For a Comeback

I Can’t Wait To See You Again: Eight Things From 2008 That Are Due For a Comeback

When it comes to nostalgia, there doesn’t seem to be a true consensus about what schedule it operates on exactly. The New Yorker has argued for a “40 year Golden Rule”, while Entertainment Weekly takes the more immediate view that the itch to look backwards sets in somewhere around the 12 or 15 year mark. The entire internet is proliferated with retrospectives celebrating pop cultural anniversaries of almost every numeration— even years with no rounded numbers. If a natural law of nostalgia exists, it seems we have not yet found it.

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The GOAT Farm Class of 2018

The GOAT Farm Class of 2018

The thing about inventing an imaginary honor society that doles out imaginary annual awards is that you can’t just in media res things and hope that the imaginary audience is following along. There’s got to be a preamble. A clarification of the rules. An explication of the acronyms. An attempt to impose some sense upon all of the nonsense.

So in case you haven’t read The GOAT Farm’s Inaugural Post/Ceremony— and also in case you did read it, two years ago, and somehow didn’t memorize its vagaries— The GOAT Farm is a pop culture hall of fame with a pastoral aesthetic. Inductees must patiently endure a five year waiting period between when they were first experienced and when they are GOAT-eligible, which is why all of today’s honorees are from 2018. The only judge is me.

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2022 Anticipation Index

2022 Anticipation Index

January is traditionally the time for high hopes and grand plans and lofty ambitions. The time to be briefly convinced that all of the empty days unfurled before you hold nothing but promise, to most fully perceive the potential in this latest quirk of the Earth’s axial tilt. But the concept of anticipation hovers a little awkwardly around the edges of this particular New Year. It is, after all, somewhat complicated to feel true excitement for things that are question marks.

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Dear Santa: My 2021 Pop Culture Christmas Wish List

Dear Santa: My 2021 Pop Culture Christmas Wish List

I’ve always been split on the concept of composing a wish list for Christmas.

On the one hand there’s no arguing against the ruthless efficiency of the practice; the guarantee against Christmas morning hopes being dashed through the snow. For the gift-giver, having a list to adhere to eliminates all kinds of stressful second guessing and streamlines the shopping process— in that sense, writing out a list of presents one yearns to receive could almost be viewed as an act of Christmas charity.

But something about the exercise has always struck me as vaguely mercenary, something that too starkly reveals the commercialized and capitalist bones of what is supposed to be a warmhearted exchange of goodwill. Sure, your expectations are met, but there is something lost in having set expectations at all, in reducing your loved ones to the role of glorified Amazon delivery worker.

As a child, I negotiated this paradox by rarely asking my parents for anything specific— trusting instead that my strong personal branding would guide them in the right direction, namely towards books and Barbies— but always helpfully itemizing things for Santa, who, I reasoned, had the added burden of a billion or so extra children to keep track of. I did always add the incredibly Canadian caveat that I would be happy with whatever Santa chose to bring me if, for any reason, he was unable to fulfill my wishes, which I hope my mother appreciated while committing her recidivist acts of mail fraud.

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Everything I Almost Wrote

Everything I Almost Wrote

What is the customary greeting you might expect from someone who has recently crawled out from under a rock? Or from someone who has washed ashore after many months of being adrift at sea? Or from someone who has finally awakened after a decade long slumber?

Whatever the appropriate words are (Hello again? Guess who? Well well well, I bet you thought you’d seen the last of me?) please consider them said, and please consider this post to be my bid for re-admittance amongst polite blogging society.

Because it has been, as they say, a minute. Here’s what nobody tells you when you start writing a personal blog: it is unbelievably easy to stop. Without an editor to be accountable to, without the pressures of deadlines or outside expectations, it is the simplest thing in the world to just … put off writing one of these old things until another day. And then another day. And another one, and so on, until you’ve accidentally taken a ~four month sabbatical and can’t figure out a discreet way to come back.

I suppose a good start would be to slip into using an active first person voice, instead of the cowardly and stylistically questionable blend of third and second that I’ve been employing thus far. I stopped writing for this blog, I ghosted this space like it was a Tinder match who repeatedly demonstrated an inability to distinguish between there/they’re/their. I have returned to it, bearing a humble handful of half-formed ideas with the vain hope that clearing my emotional and literal drafts will allow me to start this whole blogging enterprise anew.

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The 8 Best Pop Culture Moments of 2020 (A Midterm Report Card)

The 8 Best Pop Culture Moments of 2020 (A Midterm Report Card)

I’ve never complained about writer’s block in my life. I haven’t always loved the jumbled rhythm of words that sometimes result from halfheartedly stabbing at my keyboard, but the point is that the words have nevertheless consistently come out. Like a scratch card game where everyone’s a winner, even if sometimes “winning” just means one or two dollars. 

Since embarking on my journey as a blogger, however, I have discovered that I am prone to severe cases of poster’s block. The words might be there, but the necessary assurance that they’re worth reading is often not; particularly in this upside down year, with all its chaos and scrapped plans and upheaval. Words sometimes don’t seem to be enough. 

To that end, I’ve found myself more on the receiving end of content these days, which has meant a lot of listening, and a lot of watching. Towards the end of last year, I naively wrote about pop culture being our last unifying force, and the important bonds we could forge from these shared experiences. I think we can all agree that 2020 has given us a greater number of experiences to share than anybody ever wanted– particularly since they’ve tended to involve more video conference calls and anxiety attacks than blockbuster movie premieres. Still, in the absence of plenty of life’s other trappings, this year pop culture has taken on an outsized role in how we have connected with each other, and I believe many of these pop culture moments will be what stand out, decades from now, when we can finally bring ourselves to reflect upon 2020. I thought maybe that made them worth writing about, worth reading about, worth remembering. 

{A couple of caveats: though I titled this piece “The Best Pop Culture Moments of 2020”, I have made zero attempts to be thorough or objective in my choices. In fact, some of this year’s most memeable content– Tiger King, for instance, or Animal Crossing– are items I haven’t gotten around to quite yet. So you may find the experience of perusing this list to be akin to being shown around Rome by a tour guide who neglects to take you to the Colosseum or The Vatican. 

Or, considering we’re dealing with 2020, a tour guide fashioned after the Charlize Theron character in Mad Max: Fury Road, if instead of ferrying women to safety she chose to use her war rig for sightseeing. “Look at this desert wasteland!” I cry, rapturously pointing out sandstorms and salt flats while ignoring the din of war drums growing louder. “Isn’t the apocalypse grand?”}     

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How Pop Culture Was Revived In 2019 (And Why It Might Save The Planet In 2020)

How Pop Culture Was Revived In 2019 (And Why It Might Save The Planet In 2020)

“Pop culture died in 2009.” Or so the saying goes over at one of my favorite websites on the internet, a contextless virtual time capsule of the so-called naughty aughties. They have a point. Though it was merely a decade ago, scrolling through the remnants of trucker hats, chunky highlights and Us Weekly headlines feels a little like taking part in an archaeological dig. Everything seems to have changed, from the celebrities we’re fascinated by and the ways we engage with them, to the platforms we consume entertainment on and the pace at which we consume it.

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