Jared Leto recently gave his opinion of blogs and the people who write them, making the following statement:
“I think that blogs should die a sudden death. It’s just ridiculous. It’s like a playground for four-year-olds. People say and do things in the world of blgos that they would never do in real life, and I think it’s a false experience…The blog is yesterday’s parachute pants. It’s here now but it’s gone tomorrow.”
Well, Jared, allow me to retort. I think I speak for all bloggers when I say: we don’t like you either. Your desperate, meticulously-constructed “artistic credibility”/”serious musician” posturing is about as impressive or convincing as a magic show put on by the mentally handicapped. Just becuase you show up on a few hipster photoblogs and launch a self-initiated campaign to become the new spokesperson for Maybeline eye make-up doesn’t mean we’ve forgotten that you’re a pretty-boy B-list movie star who dates people like Lindsay Lohan and will eternally be remembered as Jordan Catalano, that dim-witted high school heart-throb who couldn’t f*cking read (though my fondest Leto memory will always be your big scene with Ed Norton in Fight Club).
As seriously as you’d like us to take you and your ill-conceived mid-career identity crisis, at the end of the day, your band is just more of the generic mall punk corporate garbage currently in fashion among angst-ridden high school Blockbuster employees and post-adolescent goth people who live with their parents and spend their entire lives playing Resident Evil. It’s about as “indie” or “edgy” as Scorpions were in the 70’s. Your stench of fraudulence manages to rise above even the vilest parts of the Hollywood dung pile because, unlike Paris Hilton or Britney Spears, you clearly take yourself so f*cking seriously, utterly unaware you make us all want to gag on how enormous of pretentious d*cknose you are.
So keep singing your sad little emo songs, and keep thinking that the opinion of “the bloggernets” is an inconsequential one. Like you said, “here now, gone tomorrow”!
See you on The Surreal Life, douchebag.
ps. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with Hammer-pants. Can’t touch this, b*tch.