Nothing "guilty" about my pleasures

Tonight, I brought my Thai takeout home, headed upstairs, and decided to watch Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back on Netflix.  When I first saw the movie in theaters when it came out, I didn't care for it much.  Since then, it's grown on me and it's quite possibly my second favorite Kevin Smith movie, exceeded by Dogma alone.  I love the zany stupidity and mindless comedy in these movies, and the fact that I find Jason Mewes mildly attractive for some inexplicable reason just adds to their allure.  (Okay, having just looked at some of the other pictures of Jason that I just saw on IMDB, I think I"m upgrading him to "full on attractive.")

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Some people are occasionally surprised that I go for such mindless movies, most likely because I often surround myself with intellectual and artsy types.  And I kind of see that.  A lot of times, I enjoy strong intellectual pursuits and exploring philosophical ideas.  The truth is, though, a guy can't be insightful and profound all the time.  At least this guy can't.  Sometimes, I just want to shut off my brain and enjoy something that is mostly mindless, where the humor is obvious and maybe even a little (or a lot) juvenile.

Some people might refer to such things as guilty pleasures.  I prefer not to.  I find nothing guilty about them, and I find it disturbing that I should have to apologize or feel badly about liking something that brings me pleasure just because it doesn't meet some standard of class or intellectualism.  Some times, it simply does the soul good to laugh at a pie in the face, a good fart joke, or raunchy humor that you'd expect from a group of middle (or high) school boys.  After all, I was one of those boys once upon a time.  Or I would have been if I didn't have such a huge stick up my butt back then.  But that's probably another blog post.