There are levels of social gatherings. You have your shindigs, your get-togethers, festivals, ragers, raves and riots. They’re all annoying in different ways, but occur infrequently enough that their existence is tolerable. One can attend any of these gatherings and act in accordance with the chaos that comes with having free will in an indifferent world.
Parties, though: they’re a plague. There is one for every useless occurrence — birthdays, graduations, anniversary, goodbyes, housewarming. They’re each built on arcane rules and confining customs; bring a gift, don’t get drunk at my sister’s baby shower, stealing a breadmaker isn’t socially acceptable. It is one of my more stridently held beliefs that parties should be outlawed, much like dancing in the seminal film Footloose.
Thankfully, Justin Bieber is the pop star destined to deliver his faithful flock from the heathens and devil worshippers perpetuating the party industrial complex. On Ed Sheeran‘s “I Don’t Care,” Biebervelli arrives at a party only to notice, “I’m crippled with anxiety/But I’m told it’s where I’m s’posed to be.” The only place you’re supposed to be is in our hearts and AirPods, Justin.
If parties are causing the songbird of our generation crippling anxiety, something is wrong. Bieber brings up solid points on “I Don’t Care:” Chit-chat is hard, yelling at randoms in 10-minute bursts is an ineffective way to connect with another person and, most importantly, guilting people to attend a party as a form of social obligation is a draconian form of punishment.
The only reprieve for Bieber is getting horny and wanting to kiss in front of everyone, which should also be outlawed. Parties are bad, but public displays of affection are worse.