Crete, Episode 3: Christ I'm an angry person today

1154 I want to write but have been dragged poolside. It is irritatingly noisy. No noisier than on the balcony, but at least up there I could pretend that I was seperated from the rest of it. Now the volleyball is back and very in my face. Can't even swim for a cool off.

Apparently it is actually water polo. I'm not really paying attention. It still features a beachball and grown men screaming like children.

The losing team have to do the chicken dance mentioned in Episode 1. Because if you're not suffering throguh playing, you may as well be suffering through watching.

Said dance appears to start with a bit of a sumo ground stomp. The participants certainly have the bodies for it OH SNAP.

You know how some music takes old songs, adds an electronic beat and sends it's on its way? The song feels a bit weird about what's happened to it, but it carries on, and actually kind of works. Purists will turn it's back on it, but whatever. But then you get some other guys who see this, so they take a brilliant, or at least cult song and add an electronic beat, because that should be even more successful right? But they kind of miss the point. The focus too heavily on the electronic bit, and forget their meant to be augmenting the original, not just making "An electronic version of x". Some don't even try. They just take the old song, chop it up, inject sections of completely irrelevant trancey eurodance, sew it all up and send the carcass out the door, where it promptly rots, or if its unlucky takes some kind of mimicry of life and shambles along in some undead halflife.
an analogy would be that some people take a kind of standard car, not too shit, but nothing flash. It runs, doesnt make any unwated noises, and is kind of popular with first time car owners. The then start adding to it, giving it subwoofers, a more powerful engine, that kind of thing. It's not necassary, it's kind of douchish, but on some level it works, and arguably it can be seen as having been "improved". Other people however take a super car, the kind that would Jeremy Clarkson would be wanking over, and they give it a flourecent yellow and pink paint job. And a pair of fuzzy dice. They then proceed to take out the engine, replace it with some colourful play doh in a roughly engine shape, then, I don't know, take a crowbar to the windshield. For substance. They then get in the car and try to drive it, oblivious to how much of a waste of flesh they are, and how they should be taken out back and shot.

I was going somewhere with this.

Stop messing with my music!

I was swimming quite happily when suddenly I notice the pool is empty. Using my finely honed senses I worked out that some organised shit was about to go down. Sure enough, at the end of the pool, a bunch of people were lined up ready to bow to the animatyion team's will. Music started, they danced. It was one of those synchronised simplistic dances, like the macerena or something. I honestly don't see the point in those dances. At some point in my life, maybe I was attacked by a wild tribe of macerena dancers, but it all just seems so purile. "Oh it's just, like, fun!" "You just got to do it, you know?" No,I don't know imaginary late teen girls, and I resent you for suggesting that I don't know what I might or might not like. Go be irritatingly bubbly somewhere else. Go on, the bar has free Bacardi Breezers.


1649, Just had a nap. Am now reading by the pool, listening to Daft Punk.