Nickacado: I actually have been to Singapore, 2 years ago.
Amberlynn: Eat Morningstar buffalo nuggets.
Not an. Oh wow how did you like it?
Not an, Oh what is it like in Singapore?
Nothing. No show of interest or curiosity at all.
It's this aspect of her that's bizarrely intriguing - I say "bizarrely" cos I'm buggered if I can explain my fascination with someone so vacant.
Bewailing the stupidity/irresponsibility/ignorance/blah blah blah of others has long fuelled human history - iirc Plato was whingeing about it. And no doubt got called a boring old fart - but I've truly never encountered someone so not just indifferent to anything around them that isn't themselves, but seemingly with no grasp that such indifference isn't the norm. It's a degree of self-absorption that some speds have but in all fairness, they're speds.
And we're not setting a high bar here, the world's chocka with those who don't go any further than the lowest common denominator TV and what it tells them to think; politicians rely on us unwashed masses training our eyes where they want us to look and the real deal goes on with us safely distracted in picking over minutiae. But even that, or dropping down to the lowest rung and participating in places like here, there's an interest outside something other than self. But
nothing piques her interest
ever.
Even Thumbo, with her crayoned cartoon masterpieces, is operating at a higher intellectual level than Albert; she has knowledge of her 'toons and interest in, albeit at barnacle level. Albert would say she's interested in fashion (no, finding tarps that fit does not count,) make-up (all goes unused into the hoard and the decade-old Elf bullets make their ten trillionth appearance as Al single-handedly invents the cosmeticolith) and the big one, her writeeeen. But that's entirely self referential and merely another medium via which to fatly gaze upon her own cheesy navel. If you gave her the most basic writing prompt, that of putting a pencil in front of her, the great moonface would merely crumple in confusion as she informed you it was, in fact, a pencil.
True, social media and YT especially are the cathedrals at which Generation Me worship their fabulous selves, and vapid bovine dumbth powers most of our cows. There is a seemingly-endless feed of shows like "Big Brother" on TV which, with their sleb versions merely stretching out the fifteen minutes of a few sadsack wannabes in a perpetually dwindling cycle of futility and nothingness. But even so, and in however small a fashion, there is usually some kind of external interest because most people find themselves intensely boring.
But not our Cheesebeast. It's like the ultimate expression of entropy, because it's a closed system; except for food, nothing goes in. How the actual fuck can anybody Life with
zero curiosity? Especially as she seems to require someone amuse her constantly, but how do you amuse someone who has no interests outside themselves? Sit her in front of her own vids and watch her clap like a spastic bull walrus? If her only subject is Myself, the Life, the Legend, is she not then responsible if the Story is boring as all fuck?
And then I remember I'm fascinated and my small knitted brain blows in a geyser of frazzled pink wool....