He’s Just A Piece Of Shit: A correction to “He’s Just Not That Into You”

You’ve heard this. You’ve probably said it to a friend. Maybe someone said it to you, condescendingly, over your second vodka-cran, trying to help you land "reasonably" on an explanation for why some dude who looks like a cross between a baked potato and an ostrich who claimed to want you, was treating you like an option... And acting like the prize...

CONGRATULATIONS!!! Here's what you've won!

It’s meant to be kind. A clean explanation. A way to close the chapter without assigning blame (while blaming you for his behavior).

Here’s the problem (spoiler: it's him).

A man who realizes he isn’t into you romantically, but is also a decent human being (rare, I know), just... stops. He leaves honestly. He doesn’t pursue further. He doesn't objectify women as "backup toys." He doesn't deploy intermittent reinforcement or rage bait, while telling other people you're "obsessed" or "crazy" (*after you simply ask for clarity*), as a preemptive strike for... the inevitable fallout. He doesn’t take anything on his way out. He certainly doesn’t leave you poorer, more confused, or less intact than when he found you.

The breadcrumbing? That’s not “not that into you.”

The deliberate, malicious manipulation into sex? Not “not that into you.”

The resource siphoning: Your money, your time, your energy, your emotional labor, your hope, your creativity, while keeping you just warm enough to stay available?

That’s not a man who "isn’t feeling it."

That’s an insecure loser, who has been convinced he's the prize (*laughs maniacally*), who feels threatened by something that you represent, doesn't like you, AND has enough contempt to keep taking from you. Sometimes, he's just so deep in the closet that he's in a dimension where he *is* straight ("and it's the ONLY one, Morty" *belch*).

Those are two completely separate things. And collapsing them into one gentle self-help phrase has done enormous damage to an enormous number of women who deserved better, on top of an honest, REAL explanation, that stops absolving bad men of bad behavior.

"He's REALLY a good guy underneath!!" "I think he's an avoidant." "I understand why he did it, it's just that his wife..." "You don't have the full context..."

No, he's not a good person. Shut the FUCK up. You're the problem at this point- You, and your profound lack of critical thinking and pickmeism. You're keeping the bar in hell for ALL OF US.

I have paid for dates (in the ancient ruins of my past). *pukes in mouth*

I have "gone dutch" being told it was the right thing, the equal thing, the "modern" thing, the thing that proved I wasn’t "entitled" or WHAT-THE-FUCK-EVER. *shits pants*

I was wrong. Not morally wrong. Just operating on bad information delivered in (not-so) good faith by men (and some women) that benefited from my confusion and sabotaged sense of self-worth.

Here is what nobody told me:

When I paid, or split, or reached for my purse- I wasn’t demonstrating "independence." I was removing the mechanism by which a traditionally wired man builds investment and desire. I was doing his job for him... and he was letting me. And somewhere underneath the surface, without being able to articulate it, he liked me LESS for it.

He had it both ways. My resources and his diminished respect. Simultaneously... While I was struggling. Never "50/50" ALWAYS 90/10. Men attempting to rebrand no effort as a political position. "I'm a feminist." No, you're just some dude with childbearing hips and podcast bro talking points, who's exploiting a movement genuinely created to protect and empower women and girls, BY WOMEN, to have your cake and eat it too. All under the guise of "equality." At our expense. As usual.

And when I tell women this is what’s actually happening? When I try to hand them the cleaner explanation? Sometimes they argue back in perfect pickme circle logic. “Every relationship is different.” “I don’t mind paying sometimes, he doesn't owe me anything, we're equal.” (that's not equality) “He has a lot going on.” "At least I have a man, at least he doesn't hit me..." *projectile vomits*
(FFS why isn't anyone calling me a doctor?!?!)

I understand it. I really do. Accepting the truth requires accepting two painful things at once- that he’s not who you want him to be, and that you’ve been participating in your own diminishment with genuinely good intentions. That’s a lot to land on simultaneously. So the circle closes instead.

But here’s what the "circle" protects you from knowing:

If a man asks you out and then asks you to split the check or lets you pay, your body already knows before your brain catches up- "He doesn't actually like me." There should be nothing left. A full, instantaneous, permanent evacuation of interest. Your vagina should dry up SO COMPLETELY in his presence, that the entrance has become permanently sealed off to him- Not anger. Not a conversation. Just, "Ooohhh, so this *wasn't* a date. Got it." His reaction doesn't matter. "Disqualified, generic name ending in "n.""

That response isn’t pettiness. It’s information processed correctly, and it's not a dynamic I created- That’s a character failure we were too busy being generous to see clearly.

A man who is genuinely not interested (but basically decent), costs you nothing on his way out.

A man who costs you something: your money, your body, your time, your sanity, your safety, your next decade... wasn’t simply uninterested.
He was a threat.

“He’s just not that into you” asked you to be gracious. Soft. Forgiving. Self-flagellating.

This is the *factual* correction, and it's long overdue:

He’s just a piece of shit.

And that? Is not your fault.


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Suffer The Children

The kids are not the problem. We are.

We have collectively decided that children are the problem. Not the adults who built the world they inherited. Not the systems that failed them. The kids...

You can say things about children online that you would never say about any other group of people, and nobody flinches. “Kids these days.” “This generation is so soft.” Said with the smugness of someone who thinks that’s some profound cultural observation and not just... punching down at the people with the least power in any room. Kids who didn’t design the world they were handed, and are navigating conditions that would level most of the adults criticizing them.

Kids inherit the world adults built. That’s it. That’s the whole thing.

And then there’s “child-free.”

Not talking about people who simply don’t want children. Valid, private, none of my fucking business. I mean the movement version. The identity. The whole community organized around active contempt for children existing in shared spaces. The “breeders” language. The fury at a child being present on a plane, in a restaurant, near them. Don't get me started on how weirdos in western society recently brainwashed and bullied others into accepting that dogs should somehow have more rights than little kids in public…

The language tells you everything. Free. As in liberated from. Children as the thing you’ve successfully escaped. That is a strange thing to build an identity around.

Children didn’t choose to be there. They’re not on the plane to inconvenience anyone. They’re new here. And the loudest voices in those spaces tend to be people with enough money to curate a life without children in it, looking down at people who don’t have that option. Punching down dressed up as a lifestyle.

Kids after Millennial have no reference point for a world without a camera in their face. None. And, I get why they're nostalgic for times they've never experienced. We, as (older) Millennials, got "The Last Great Childhood." The 80's/90's collective childhood was, as the kids say and fantasize about "peak." Delayed gratification, Saturday morning cartoons, and the expectation of third places... Even if some of our individual home lives were not wished on anyone else. Every awkward phase, every first experience, every normal bumbling moment of figuring out how to exist- It used to just disappear. There was a mercy in that. A kid at their first club night, wearing an outfit they were excited about, dancing awkwardly and having the time of their life... Those are sacred moments of simply becoming. Now they get recorded, posted, and handed to strangers to roast in the comments. Viciously. By adults.

And underneath all of that: School shooting drills as a routine part of childhood. An entire generation growing up practicing for their own potential massacre as a normal part of the school week. Plus cyberbullying, and sexual abuse material circulating at a scale that would have been incomprehensible twenty years ago.

These are not soft kids. These are kids carrying things no previous generation carried (collectively), and we have the nerve to call THEM the problem.

I’ve had to reassure single mothers more times than I can count that they don’t need to apologize for their kids. And I mean that literally. The pre-apologizing that mothers do in public, managing everyone else’s comfort around their children’s existence, on top of everything else they’re already managing.

One time, I just started dancing with some kids in the Dollar Tree and shouted “party on aisle 4!” They cheered. The mother looked relieved. Not just happy. Relieved.

In my building, a mom was trying to settle her kids down in the elevator, already apologizing before anyone said a word. I told her her kids were fine. A young man chimed in, "they're just doing what kids do." I said the people who have a problem with that are miserable. Because they are. I have always said that people who hate kids (to simplify it) hate themselves.

...To anyone feeling "triggered," this isn't a fight. This is the mirror- And I've paid the price more times than I can count, for being the only one to hold it up. I'll keep doing it anyway. Even when kids are being absolute terrors (I don't just mean bratty or obnoxious), I mean possible anomaly situations... They're still kids- All of them deserve regulated, competent adults who don't match or compete with them. If your instinct is to hurt, humiliate, or dismiss them, instead of empathize or understand as the ADULT (yes this is a lecture), you're the fucking problem and I want nothing to do with you. Let me be clear- All adults lose their cool, lose their patience, and have the human capacity to "snap" at times, but anyone who is reading this knows exactly the kind of asshole I am describing- That asshole should stay out of public spaces and get professional help.

Let me just slip in an edit here: The kids who eventually become adults, who need jobs to pay their bills, who will get into jobs they're very often not qualified for, don't have the skills or patience or energy for, aren't regulated for; don't give a shit about? That will eventually affect your life. Negatively. Especially when you need care, resources, or support... The kids who become adults that do not give af about anything, who get into positions with the slightest amount of power that they shouldn't be in, but they need the money from... tend to cause chaos in the lives of others and boy do they tend to enjoy it... "Sit with that."

Imagine if the funding, the resources, the actual political will, went toward building up kids and their struggling parents instead of keeping everyone’s nervous systems on fire. We know what works. It’s not a mystery- Stable housing, supported parents, safe schools, nutritious food (see: Kyushoku), early mental health access. We have the research. We’ve had it for decades.

Instead, most vote for and fund the downstream consequences. Prisons instead of pre-K. "Boot straps" and schadenfreude, instead of social and financial safety nets… until it's their life or someone they care about. Then suddenly it's, "well, this is completely different." We keep making the other choice, and then logging on to flex, "Fuck these kids" or "What’s wrong with kids today?"

Nothing is wrong with kids today- Everything is wrong with us.

Party on... Aisle 4.





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Top 5 Dream Drummers to Work With and The percussive Ramblings of a Maniac

In no particular order:
Terry Bozzio (I lied. He's number 1)
Neil Peart
Jimmy Chamberlin
Stewart Copeland
Phil Collins
Also, "top" lists are always bait- The list would be endless.

Drummers: The percussion might seem secondary when it comes to a song/composition as a whole, but the drummer, the beat, the rhythm (even the absence of said bangery) is so utterly foundational when it comes to a piece of music, that you immediately notice its absence (or hollow yet commanding solo presence). The first musical instruments are widely considered percussion... being obviously the most intuitive/practical. I'll give a brief nod to include the bass section here as well, since that often functions as percussion, or its stand-in.

My friend Alex (a *truly gifted* piano player since childhood) and I had a conversation years ago where I mentioned jazz-based drummers being superior in their training to all others. "If you can play jazz, you can play anything," he said. I agree, with one caveat: this is ONLY as far as percussionists are concerned. Jazz-based drummers are ABSOLUTE FUCKING BEASTS. I want a jazz drummer for anything I'm playing. Notably live. ANY DAY. With all other musicians, I don't care about the background depending on what they're contributing. Ad-libs, style, raw talent, what they've composed... It doesn't matter. Training or no training, and the best are often UNTRAINED. Untainted by training and technique (I'm a little biased). I think kids should develop their ears, first and foremost, and everyone has their own musical "language." Moving along... The drummer, the foundation? Give me jazz, give me the chaos, or give me death. I do not necessarily agree that jazz musicians in general can play anything, and I don't think that's a particularly controversial take either. Classical musicians? Maybe. Musicians with perfect ears? Again, I might be a little biased there, but...

Btw, Alex, I hope you're doing well if you're reading this. Shoot me a message.

Why Terry Bozzio is my first pick:



I wish I'd been able to catch Missing Persons when I still lived in Los Angeles. "Nobody walks in LA," my ass. I walked EVERYWHERE. That city is beautiful, warts and all, and the people who don't walk it are truly missing out. Some Australian guy once shouted that line at me and then said "Hey, you wanna ride babay?!" as I left a Del Taco (my former LA happy place. I no longer eat carbs or fast food) and walked past the gas station where he was filling up. If LA is "God's toilet," that also means it's God's Golden Shower State. That's me. Always trying to see the golden lining... so to speak.

I don't consider myself a "drummer." I don't consider myself an exclusive "anything" though I'm more than proficient (whatever that means) at many instruments. All instruments are tools that I use to write (even virtual ones), and I happen to apply the skills from the ones I already know intimately, to any that I continue to pickup- Isn't that how it's supposed to work?

My first continued exposure to consistently playing percussion was being part of an African drum ensemble for two years as a kid, run by a Ghanaian man named Sowah Mensah. I know it heavily influenced my developing brain and my music, and I'm deeply thankful for that. What I didn't fully realize until much later was how naturally that tradition baked in unusual time signatures and polyrhythm. You're not counting 4/4 like a metronome when you're in that circle. You're locking into something... living, something that shifts and breathes and lands somewhere most Western ears aren't trained to expect. 7/8, 12/8, patterns that stack on top of each other until the whole thing becomes its own organism. That got into me early before I even had my own musical language, and never left- STOP DEFUNDING THE ARTS FOR OUR KIDS, YOU FLAT FUCKING KILLJOYS. GIVE THEM BACK THEIR CREATIVITY AND DEVELOPING BRILLIANCE!!!!! *Pukes in mouth* *Spontaneously combusts* This blog post would go on for a week if I said all that I wanted to say, and included my additional goofy rants.

Later in high school, finally getting time on V drums with a pro showing me actual technique was genuinely helpful. But honestly? Sowah had already done the real damage. When I actually started recording music, drum "programming"/recording sounds from any and every source, is where I really started bringing all the pent up madness into focus. The grid was never just a grid to me. It was always something you could push against, play inside of, or blow up entirely if the moment called for it- That's what I want from a drummer. Not just someone who keeps time. Someone who understands that time is a suggestion and a conversation, not a cage- A human drum machine, and a drum circle with tap dancers if necessary.

Thank you for the read.


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