Slouching Towards Bethlehem
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Just like you, okay?
I have weasels reproducing in a bag of rice in my front porch!
Because that's where they're happy, it's closest to nature
Just like you, I'd be vegan if it weren't for caviar
And just like- I'm sorry, okay, I'm done with the- sorry
I can only do the, "I'm just like you"
And then be weird thing so many times
Before it gets really fucking annoying, and
Um, the point is that I put my pants on
Some days even that feels like a victory, um
So uh, I know some of you guys are probably kinda curious
About the big dramatic hiatus announcement
And then subsequent anti-climactic return to the stage
And uh, I'd like to explain if I may
Um, see, that last song that I played
It went a little viral a couple of years ago
And it was the worst thing that ever happened to me
Please don't do that again, I'm asking nicely, thank you!
Obviously, it's complicated, right?
Because I'm here and I'm really really glad to be
But all of a sudden
I was getting way more attention than I ever thought was possible
Let alone really, I don't think I- I'm not sure I ever wanted
I mean, certainly
I didn't want people sending me threatening collages in the mail
Telling me I'm not 'morally entitled to a personal life'
You know
I don't love getting 2am phone calls asking to talk to my dad
I don't love people writing weird sexually-aggressive shit
About me on the internet
I don't love the whole fucking-
I don't love the stalking
I don't love the attention
It's not for me
At least
I mean
I don't know, man
Is it for anyone?
I mean
I guess it's just like
It's complicated, right?
It's not that it was the worst thing that ever happened to me
It was the most thing that ever happened to me
Y'know, I had made all of these sacrifices
And really given up any chance of
Ever having anything even remotely resembling a normal life
In pursuit of becoming this artist that I've always dreamed of being
And then this artist was being reconstructed
As a million new artists who
Y'know, were being reconstructed by a million new people
All of whom I was certain in my heart of hearts would fucking hate me
If they actually knew me
And meanwhile, there's this humunculous of misinformation out there
Called 'Will Wood'
And I don't even fucking know that guy
I wouldn't wanna be seen hanging out with
The Reddit version of Will Wood, y'know?
It's weird, it's disorienting
And meanwhile, the AIs that decide what media we consume
Also become capable at creating the media as well
That's plunging us into a second dark ages
Where the Library of Alexandria is not burning
But rather being renovated to make room for more porn
At least until hurricanes become the dominant species on the planet
And I'm supposed to want to be creative for this undead internet
That has only terrorized my psyche since I was a child
And gotten worse, and worse
And eventually designed, I think, consciously, to do so to people?
It was just more than I could possibly ever begin to fucking manage
And it still overwhelms the hell out of me
And I think there was a time that I thought
I wanted to be larger than life
But only because
Then maybe life would be small enough for me to manage for once
I'm a real guy living a real life
Will Wood is like a character in a story
Whether I'm consciously playing that character
Or trying to contribute to that story or not
And when you lose the ability to tell your own story
It can feel like the end of the world
And so, I have a story that I would like to share with you all today
If I may
And I think it might make the last couple of years
Make a little bit more sense