Oasis, Labor Day, and Hobbes

Nasty, brutish, and short

I missed the Sunday deadline, and I’m embarrassed. I was hoping Blake, with his busy work schedule, would be the first to slip up, but that wasn’t the case. In my defense, it was Labor Day weekend, so Monday became the new Sunday. It’s been a hectic week for me—I had my first full week back in the office, and my weekend was completely derailed by Ticketmaster.

Let’s address the elephant in the room: the Oasis reunion. This week, I received countless texts from friends asking if I’d seen the news about Oasis’s imminent reunion. Of course, I had. I don’t have 8 hours of daily screen time for nothing. Something this big isn’t going to slip past me. I mean, come on—I sourced a vintage Oasis Knebworth T-shirt from war-torn Ukraine; this was my Eras Tour. The online commentary, though, has been grating. Meme pages catering to guys who wear socks with loafers were going wild, while every other reel featured a guy in Barnsley with a parka zipped up to the top. I’m sure we’ll see a resurgence of Gallagher brother haircuts in the coming months.

Despite the annoying content, I was excited to wake up at 2:30 AM on Saturday to try for a pair of tickets to the Wembley show. I was up bright and early, tabs ready, prepared to spend a silly amount of money for a show a year away. After 40 minutes of the webpage crashing, I finally got in the queue. I turned on Better Call Saul to help pass the time as I watched my spot in line inch forward. After four hours of queuing, I was nearing the front when Ticketmaster decided to kick me out, accusing me of being a bot.

I stared at the screen in disbelief. In that moment, I had never felt closer to the Swifties who had also fallen victim to Ticketmaster’s cruel ways. I frantically rejoined the queue, but it was too late—I was back at the end of the line. After hours of waiting, I had failed. I even texted my dad, hoping for some support, but he just sent a laughing emoji.

Now I’m sitting on the sofa, watching an acoustic cover of “Live Forever” on YouTube, lowballing people on Grailed for some Stone Island gear, and thinking about what could have been.

Shortly after my glorious failure, my copy of Leviathan was delivered. I had read Hobbes before in an undergrad seminar, but I couldn’t help being struck by the irony of it all. For those unfamiliar, Leviathan the book explores the structure of society and legitimate government, famously arguing that in the absence of political order, human life would be "solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short." Which, coincidentally, is exactly how I’d describe my experience with Ticketmaster that morning.

Hobbes paints a bleak picture of the natural state of mankind, where without a powerful sovereign to impose order, society would descend into chaos and violence. Normally, I’d roll my eyes at such pessimism, preferring to believe in the inherent goodness and cooperation of people. But after my morning struggle with the heartless algorithms of Ticketmaster, I began to see Hobbes as a guy who also had maybe tried to use Ticketmaster. The entire experience felt like a modern-day version of the brutal, competitive environment Hobbes describes—a world where even trying to get tickets to see two middle-aged white guys from Manchester becomes a battle for survival, a struggle against forces beyond my control. Who knew Ticketmaster was secretly Hobbesian? It’s a humbling thought—one that adds a twisted layer of irony to my failed quest for Oasis tickets.

Labor Day wasn’t a complete failure, though. I got to paint some walls—from white to a different shade of white—and see the human zoo that is Lake Austin on Labor Day weekend. Honestly, I had a great time on the boat. Every boat we passed was filled with girls who looked straight out of an Aviator Nation catalog, and guys who were the human embodiment of a Yeti cooler. I even had the joy of swimming next to a boat full of my ex-girlfriend’s best friends.

In conclusion, I loved Labor Day weekend. A day meant to celebrate hard-working industry workers and now we celebrate cloud consultants, and 40% off J.Crew. Oh well—at least my lowball offer was just accepted.

EH