27 June 2012

On Sodcasting, or Why I Sometimes Want to Kill People

At least this guy probably knows by now 
that he's a dick.
Warning: grumpy old lady rant follows...

There aren't many things that make me furiously angry. If you know which your/you're to use, don't beat on animals, little kids or your significant other and refrain from being openly racist or xenophobic, I'm pretty much a harmless kitten. 

Today I decided to add another trigger to the kitty-with-claws list. Protect your puny adolescent balls, kids, if you're a fucking sodcaster.

Sodcasting (apparently derived from some amalgam of "podcasting" and "sod you") is the act of playing music through the speaker on a mobile phone in public, usually on public transport, and seems to have exploded in popularity on Christchurch buses over the past six months.

Basically it involves douchebag kids sauntering onto the bus, holding their phones and blasting unrecognisably tinny crap-rap at all and sundry for the duration of their journey. Requests to turn the volume down are usually ignored.

Research seems to agree that it's a territorial thing - pretty much the asshat teen's version of spraying the couch, peeing on a lamp-post or roaring and beating your chest. It's saying "this area is for me and others like me - anyone who doesn't like it doesn't belong." Others suggest that kids who engage in it lack empathy or social awareness.

Either way, they make my cellphone-smashing, selfish-idiot-punching finger itch. (Stop imagining what a one-finger punch would look like. It isn't pretty.)

So, since polite requests to cease and desist haven't proved effective, and physical assault is legally frowned upon, what can we actually do about this?

Well! I'm glad you asked. (Pretend you did.) I do have an idea.

One thing I've never witnessed is competing sodcasts. The sodcast seems to do its job - others feel powerless, and seethe silently. Only like-minded individuals sit near the sodcaster. But why? Isn't this like us saying "yes, I acknowledge that you own this space"? Screw that.

Perhaps, unless the offending sodcaster looks particularly stabby, we should whip out our phones (which are much nicer and louder, because we have brains and jobs) and broadcast our own brand of sodcasting. Some Spice Girls, perhaps? Aqua? Placido Domingo? For those with kids, The Wiggles? 

Even better - what if we crowdsourced lyrics for a song mocking sodcasting, recorded it (very badly - it should be annoying as all hell), and made it freely available for download so everyone who's sick of sodcasting could sodcast it in protest of sodcasting when sodcasting occurs?

Tell me what you think!

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