Blog 8: Criticism is a Habit.

Ever since I was a teenager I developed a critical mind that bothers most people. Most of my friends and family would want to alienate themselves whenever I put my analysis on their favorite movies, games, television shows, etc. I have no clue why but when ever I view something my brain analysis what I'm looking at. Breaks it down into essence and judge the material on its merits. Example my cousin loves the Dukes of Hazard, I respect his opinions on the show but from the critical standpoint it doesn't mean its a good show in any way. Though may sound silly and to the reader my obviously say to himself it's something called an opinion, but from my standpoint if something is done horrible does this qualify to be good? What I'm trying to say is what if a student writes a really bad paper. Didn't follow what the criteria asks him or her to do. This paper didn't answer the question, mostly uses filler, and its an incoherent ramble for twenty pages long. A really bad paper and yet the professor enjoys it. It's still a failing paper from all critical and even writing standards.
I can understand preference and why people would enjoy guilty pleasures in fact I do too, since after all I am a typical homosapian with faults going back to my primitive cave baby years. But my point is how can someone enjoy something so terrible, so vile of the stench of something so bad and yet people accept it. I know I have standards and expectancy but if something like The Room is considered to be the best movie of all time then I have a problem with that judgment. It's a habit putting my level of standards on people based on anything on what they're talking about. In my eyes I wish to enlighten them that their precious beloved rock they found on the beach was nothing more then dried up dog droppings. It's a force of habit that I can't control fully of I'm afraid and now you know my curse. The mind that can't stop being judgmental. I sometime wish I could grab my wrench or tire iron and beat my head silly to bring myself down to the level of the others. Sound silly but to me it hurts sometimes when having a conversation on our current cesspool of pop culture and not like the cesspool of yester decade about trends and shows people enjoy. Nothing bothers me more then being an outcast of freaks from the local carnival in town.
I've now become the oddity, the star attraction and to me that is a bad thing. I want to be with the other freaks like the mermaid with the terrible tan and an ugly accent, or the spoiled gorilla in a suit talking about his future goals in Yale with a promise of a broken marriage and drinking problems. I am an analysis though I may not crunch numbers or sell bounds on Wall Street, I like to look at things for what they really are. Eyes of a God some may call it, to me it's a blessing and to others an annoyance. With my eyes may sound good to some in actuality it's a curse with a forecast of alienation and a dark cloud of loneliness.