Gem after gem of elitist discourse. Go forth and lord it over the unwashed proles, my learned brethren!
It got me thinking: I’m (obviously) an arrogant, snarky bastard. Even a cranky bastard and maybe even an ol’ dirty bastard! But am I an elitist bastard? In the United States, it seems anyone who reads books instead of propping up wonky tables or (tenderising meat with them, link via The Splendid One herself :)) is an elitist.
Anyway, going by the definition that anyone smarter than the average Australian (which by definition is 50% of us) and holds such things as civil liberties, human rights & sexual freedom above war and money is an elitist then yeah, I’m an elitist. I prefer wine over cocktails, books over magazines, thinking over talking, documentaries over reality TV, evidence over feelings and superstition, being reasonable over being retarded, a quick free beep over a five-dollar ringtone, stimulating my brain over stimulating my groin, a quiet Saturday night at home over getting mashed and stumbling home at 3am (unless my band’s playing, but I still don’t like getting mashed and staying up all night – I like making music, not cocking about and losing control).
I mean, shit … I have a blog. That automatically puts me into the category of someone who thinks he’s hella smart and that other people are going to give a shit about what I say. Arrogant, self-absorbed, narcissistic elitist bastard.
Guilty as charged. But not repentant!