Oscar �Zeta� Acosta, �The Uncollected Works�
Let�s talk about personalities.
This would be the time to do it, as this Acosta was Hunter Thompson�s sidekick for so long. Two big personalities. Two big people, what with Hunter� height and Acosta�s girth, making them look like a zonked out Laurel and Hardy.
I�ve read loads of stuff by both people and while Hunter seems to be doing things for the sake of doing them, Acosta seems to want to attach a spotlight to his belt that shines directly in his face. Acosta is the equivalent of a child jumping on the bed screaming, �Look at me, look at me, look at me!!!
I hate people like that.
I find that most people like that are needy and neurotic. Worse, I usually find them boring. Sometimes, there is a person like my fellow Reverend Brad who can pull off the obnoxious factor and still be fun and interesting, but most are people who shout things like �Whooo!� as a response for everything.
Take for example, the idiot that was at the dive bar where I was playing records last week, and where I�ll be playing records tonight, by the way. Way too many times, at the beginning of a song, this guy would whoop and holler so loud that I actually had to turn the volume up so people could hear the goddamn song.
The first time I did this whole spinning records thing, one of the guys who set it up gave me instructions, telling me to play what I wanted, push people out of my way if I needed the room, and most of all, don�t take requests.
I thought that last warning was kind of funny. Here I was, I had played every song first at home to make sure they wouldn�t skip, and I had written out post-it notes for every album on what song I was going to play. How the hell could I take requests?
But then I played, oddly enough, the band Your Mother. And I was swarmed by people. I think that was just a matter of hearing something unexpected. But back to the guy from last week. I�m getting the next song ready, and he taps me on the shoulder shouting his cheap beer breath into my face.
�Dude, can you play some reggae?�
�I most certainly can not,� I replied.
�Why not?�
�Because this is fucking punk night at the Cinebar. Reggae isn�t punk.�
�Yeah, but dude, there�s some great punk bands who were influenced by reggae!�
�So you want me to play a punk band?�
�No, I wanna hear some reggae! Whoo!�
�Tough shit.�
See that? That�s confidence.
And that�s what really burns me, that these people who are willing to be loud and retarded (sorry, Disco. No disrespect.), are thought of to be so confident, when it�s so obvious that, at least in most cases, it�s out of insecurity. If they were secure, they wouldn�t be playing the role of the performing seal, particularly at times that it�s the most inappropriate.
If they were confident, they wouldn�t need the attention.
�Look at me, look at me, look at me!!!
I�m not one to talk, I suppose, as I check the stats on this site way too much. (How does somebody go through over 100 entries in one day and didn�t find time to comment on one entry?) But it�s the way Acosta presents himself, even when he�s writing personal letters or diary entries that aren�t meant for mass consumption that show his true personality, more so than his writing (which is spotty at best) does. He comes off as so incredibly needy, so desperate for validation of his actions, that you really can�t help but pity the fat bastard.
So, uh... What do you think? �Cause you know, I was just wondering.
Worth keeping? Nope.
