I think you should know that I live a very peaceful existence. I can already hear your whisper, “A Zen-like outlook, and abs that look like you pulled that t-shirt over Roman gladiator armor. What’s your secret, Joe?” And I’m awfully glad you asked, even if you are giggling and resting your hands on my belt buckle like it’s no big deal (but really, we’re both uncomfortably, acutely aware of what you’re attempting). My methodology for carefree living is simple: I know what I should and shouldn’t worry about.
I’ve noticed that, as a society, we get our collective, gender non-specific underpants positively sailor-knotted about a number of things that don’t matter. I realize that I’m being somewhat vague, and I have to tell you, it’s just unavoidable. Great philosophers and mystics throughout history have been much the same.
Obi Wan Kenobi, for example, was a doddering grandfather, muttering half-facts while waving around a laser sword that he clearly didn’t have a valid license for. Peter Venkman alternated between sarcastic meditation and hitting on a woman with undiagnosed  acromegaly. Olmec, the wall-face from Nickolodeon’s all-too-brief “Legends of the Hidden Temple,” just laughed and taunted contestants that fell into smoking slime pits.
Clearly, I’m breaking from tradition when I elaborate, but honestly, I’m willing to do anything just to keep you from snuggling against me and giggling into my armpit after telling me that “you aren’t sure you can drive because you feel, like, so tipsy tonight.” You’re making a scene in front of all my friends.
The example that comes to mind is slightly dated, but perfect. As you may have heard, Kanye West committed a social faux pas by clambering up on stage at the VMA’s recently, grabbing the microphone from a startled Taylor Swift, and announcing that Beyonce Knowles should have received the award for best video. We were shocked by this effrontery: we were offended on behalf of the young singer, whose big night was ruined by Kanye’s motormouth and pushy ego. Of course, the fact that this registered in the public conscious is the problem I’m getting at.
First, it’s a common, tragic mistake to think of Kanye West as a functional adult. The fact that he can a) make beats on a laptop, and b) be friends with other, more talented rappers has somehow blinded society into believing that he doesn’t have the emotional maturity of a Looney Tunes character.
I don’t know who was running the event, but they really should have known that if Kanye West gets bored or feels he isn’t the center of attention for more than a few minutes, he’s going to do something misinformed and YouTube-worthy . If you think about it, this was really the fault of whoever didn’t have the foresight to give Kanye West something shiny to captivate him/a playpen to sit in/the wrong address for the event.
Furthermore, it’s important to keep in mind that we were dealing with a drunken Kanye West. I’m actually fairly impressed by this. If my assessment of every rap video ever made is correct, the entire hip hop industry seems to be centered around two things: blowing money on the tastelessly obscene, and shockingly hot girls gyrating in weird locations. Keeping this in mind, I would have at least expected Kanye to set some sort of endangered animal on fire and then snort the ashes. Really, he’s to be commended.
Finally, we have to consider the artist he insulted: Taylor Swift. I only know she’s a musician because this all happened at the VMA’s. My detective’s instincts are telling me that she was there receiving an award for a music video or being one of the few starlets to not leak a poorly-shot sex tape. As far as I can tell, she looks like another generic celebrity with eyeballs like an anime character. When I look at her, I just start thinking about the times when celebrities were interesting enough to bite the heads off of bats and get banned from San Antonio.
I looked up the song she won a VMA for: “You Belong with Me.” Listening to this nonsense was like eating a lukewarm, soggy Krispy Kreme with way too much glaze on it – and the realizing that you were violently killed, have gone straight to Hell, and have to eat these for the rest of eternity. If I were the President, I suppose I’d have a ‘eureka’ moment, when I realized “Finally, a song so annoying it’ll make our enemies just use their weapons of mass destruction on themselves!” So I suppose I’d have to give her a Purple Heart or something, but certainly not a VMA.
Beyonce probably did deserve the award slightly more than Taylor Swift. Not for any artistic labors of her own, I hasten to add. Her latest hit single was a relatively unenlightening dialogue on how, if you happen to enjoy banging her, you had better produce a marriage proposal in due time, or the banging will cease. Aside from sharing with us all what might be the most romantic sentiment of all time, she’s also stated in interviews that she has a separate, braver, stage personality she’s named Sasha Fierce. That’s a fantastic name for an adorable, possibly gay kitten, but it sounds dumb when you apply it to a grown woman.
Ultimately, though, were Kanye’s shenanigans worth all the furor? Like most things in the headlines these days, probably not. It was a predictable event, precipitated by the massive ego of an idiot that we ourselves created – and really, it’s more funny than morally reprehensible. Of course, I base all of this on the unassailable opinion that 99% of all celebrities are overpaid and under-literate.
Therefore, my advice to you, sweet reader, is to try and apply this sort of logic to all the pieces of news that bother you. I think you’ll find yourself a lot more relaxed, and with a surprising amount of free time.
…Or maybe this really has just been a massive ruse to distract you from my rippling shoulders and David-esque bone structure while I make a graceful exit.
Stop it. I’m blushing.
 Until now! Ta-da!
 With the exception of his first two albums, I think I just summed up his entire career. I know, you’re about to protest, but I’m going to stop you now and just point out that liking 808’s and Heartbreak is stupid. It’s a stupid opinion, OK?