I already feel a sheepish sense of misplaced intention by writing this column on my chosen topic. This cultural phenomenon is not more complicated to understand than any other broached in my writing; in fact, the subject of this week's column has a distinctly straightforward style in communicating its message. That being said, by writing a column with a Tuesday timestamp, I think I immediately compromise my purpose and confuse my reader. After all, the only day of the week that truly matters is Friday.
Rebecca Black, America's favorite societal offender, has sprung in and out of our collective consciousness in just a few short weeks. As is the case with YouTube-enabled cultural icons, 13-year-old Black unexpectedly and offensively burst into Internet awareness with her video for "Friday," a true work of redundancy thoughtfully dedicated to a day of the week. Denounced by most media commentators as inane and mindless, "Friday" has still received more than 57 million views, demonstrating that paradoxical tendency in American culture to simultaneously reject and rejoice in train wrecks (for further discussion, see anything written about Charlie Sheen in the last two months).
With this magnum opus, Black bows to the appalled and enthralled public, and parties her way into the perpetual weekend that will become her life of half-fame. The coverage of Black's emergence into popular culture has been exhaustive, ranging from adamant criticism and ironic speculation to sincere defense for the appreciation of Friday.
One aspect of her anthem has not been adequately addressed, however, and it is a fatal flaw in her logic that compromises her work.
Perhaps it is the naivete associated with many 13-year-olds that enables and encourages this assumption, but Black operates under the profound belief that enjoying the week cannot truly start until Friday (after she has had her bowl of cereal, of course). Sure, the constraints of school and work might limit the hours of frivolity pursued from Monday through Friday, and true partyin' partyin' (YEAH) might be restricted until the ordained weekend. But even though Black insists on the malaise of her life starting with her 7 a.m. alarm, she clearly must have found some coping methods to aid in surviving Monday through Thursday.
Individuals who are dismayed by the fact that "time is goin'/ tickin' on and on, everybody's rushin'" sometimes partake in activities that restore a sense of control in life, even during the week. Take shoplifting, for example. Often, the fruitlessness of waking up at 7 a.m. every morning and waiting for the weekend drives individuals to reclaim a sense of power and steal things from established stores and businesses. The beauty of shoplifting is that you don't need to wait until Friday to partake; you can shoplift any day! "You got this." Another weekday power-restoring activity could be a daily subversion of authority. Tag a brick wall with offensive graffiti, trip a police officer, litter — you'll feel like your own person at the end of the day, even if it isn't Friday!
Black's song and video also suggest that partyin' partyin' (YEAH) cannot occur fruitfully without the accompaniment of her friends. Anyone disillusioned by the Monday to Friday drawl of life knows partyin' can occur alone, gently and sorrowfully, in your apartment on a Tuesday night with a bottle of wine, a Snuggie and fistfuls of Cheetos shoved into your mouth. If you have a cat that will listen to you sob about your problems, it's all the better. That's kind of like partyin', right?
Friday is irrelevant. Partyin' is all the time, if you are resourceful and hate your life as much as Rebecca Black does.
