SHORT STORY: The Worst of Charlie

SHORT STORY: The Worst of Charlie

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"It's weird, but we waste what little freedom we have," says Charlie on our way home from the show. "I mean, it's not like we're completely free, I know that, but there are places online where you can do anything. But instead of building an epic piece of art or creating some sort of hive mind, we just look at our feeds, at Instagram, at each other...all the time. It's like the whole world could listen to anything, like we could all be listening to Lightning Bolt, but people aren't. People still choose Kanye, Nickelback, and Metallica after all this time."

Lightning Bolt might seem like an odd case study for liberty, but they mean everything to Charlie. I think he really does see the world this way. They're his Rolling Stones, his Bob Dylan. He's that messed up.

And this isn't even the worst of Charlie.

He has so many other dumb attributes:

Charlie dumpster-dived for a few weeks in college, and he talks about it all the time. He couldn't even cook the food he found. He just ate a few half-stale donuts and made soy-shakes out of rotten bananas. A fortnight later, all that ‘excess that just goes to waste’ was put out with the rest of the trash.

Worse still, Charlie goes on about his semester of Pierre Bourdieu, but if someone at a party says, "Sunn Oh," he’ll say something like, "Do you mean Sunn O)))?" And then he goes home and pores over every drop of blackened drone excrement the band has ever released.

And Charlie shoplifts for political reasons, still.

And Charlie hates dogs, still.

He snores.

Charlie can't fuck me for shit.

And he cheated on me once.


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