It's a Monday morning. And the final day of another month of all our lives that is slipping away into oblivion and the beyond. Time and life (not the magazines) - always in their relentless march, leaving us grasping at the air and begging for yesteryear.
I recently had some advice for a college freshman who had just moved into his dorm: Leave your door open at all hours and say hi to every single person who walks by. Not creepy hi. Not lame hi. Not sarcastic, I'm-a-skateboard-punk-who-says-hi-as-a-way-of-being-funny-to-my-skateboard-punk-friends hi. Just a nice, friendly smile and a "hey, what's up?" Don't be like me - wasting your freshman year living in a cave, seeing only unfriendly faces whenever you cross path with others when in all likelihood, they're just putting up a tough front like you. And this got me to wondering what I'm doing wrong now. What advice would my future self be screaming at me if he could go back in time (but naturally be unable to be heard by me or even seen...like Scrooge in A Christmas Carol)? Is he standing here right now, pleading with me, warning me, frantically trying to prevent the sands from slipping through the hourglass?
I find that the Foo Fighters (or maybe simply Dave Grohl's voice) always makes me feel 19 or 20. Whereas Thom Yorke's voice (Radiohead) feels more mid-20s. And Daniel Johns (Silverchair) seems to fit my current age, place, time, spot in the sun. (What any of that means to you, dear readers, I have no idea...I'm simply musing openly this morning...)
This weekend I was lucky enough to catch "Inglorious Basterds." Superb film. Much better than the current elitist flavor-of-the-year "District 9." IB didn't follow any predictable plot-line and at no point could I discern where the moving was going - meaning, no tired sigh and me thinking to myself "O-kay...I see what's going to happen now....get on with it..." (a very refreshing and pleasing aspect). The style was inescapably Tarantino-esque, but it also did not feel like a rehashing of his older works.
The poor souls who encounter me on a daily basis will now be burdened by an onslaught of Inglorious Basterds lines, repeated ad nauseum, for at least the coming weeks.
That's all I have this morning, folks. Keep fighting the good fight - trying to keep those hourglass sands at bay.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Random Saturday Thoughts
Random Saturday Morning Thoughts:
1. As I mentioned in today's FB status - I have no problem with the CIA using mock executions to gain information from terrorists. In fact, it's something I would expect and be upset if they DIDN'T use. Have we seriously gotten to the point where we won't let the people who are trying to stop the monsters (i.e. terrorists who spend every waking moment plotting to annihilate men, women, and children) to PRETEND to execute someone so as to intimidate or frighten these soulless gents into giving up information? What's next? Will the ACLU demand that Emeril cook all their meals personally? Front row seats to the Jonas Brothers? How about we're only allowed to ask them about potential plots against Americans in writing - once a month - and it has to be written on construction paper, in crayons, and must be phrased in a friendly and casual manner so as not to upset the poor dears? Meanwhile it's totally cool for the terrorists to bomb, shoot, disembowel, and re-enact every torture scene from the Saw movies on their victims. Madness!
2. The weather these past two months has been just amazing. (Yes, I just used the word "amazing" which happens to be the catchphrase of 18-20 year old girls when describing just about anything. Oddly enough, it was also used in the same manner, with the same inflection, and same pause between the "a" and "mazing" back when I was just a lad. Some things DO never change....) It's August and it is 80 degrees outside. We haven't had our usual droughts and I don't think we've had a single day in the triple digits all summer long. Wonderful weather! Phenomenal! A-mazing!
3. Why do I seem to have more dreams (or at least remember them far better) when I sleep on two pillows instead of just one?
4. I definitely should've seen "The Goods" last weekend instead of "District 9." My brother went and saw the former without me this week, so now I probably won't get to see it until it comes out on DVD. Actually, no. More like I won't get to see it until a few years from now when I'm at a friend's house and they say "you've never seen The Goods?!?!?! How did you not see it?!?! It's hilarious!" And then they'll put the DVD on, but 20 minutes in a pipe will burst in the kitchen or a wife will start having an allergic reaction, or a child will be throwing a temper tantrum, or a dog will lap up a few beers and get behind the wheel of the family SUV - and the movie will be stopped and I'll go home and it'll be another year or two before I catch the rest of it on TBS. What would I do without TBS?
5. Please. Please. PLEASE die reality tv! DIE! Reality tv is destroying what's left of our society's cognitive skills. The youth are already toast. It just needs to be abolished. Along with MTV. In fact, anyone associated with MTV or its programming should be rounded up and exiled to Siberia.
6. When one is making oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, it is imperative that one use the "old fashioned" (full size) oats rather than the processed (and de-tastified) "quick 1-minute" oats.
7. Why do old men in gym locker-rooms insist on sitting completely naked and chatting with each other in front of other people's lockers? How is this a fun or enjoyable activity? Why not get dressed, leave the gym, and go chat over coffee or a sandwich somewhere? Aren't coffee and sandwiches and fully-clothed-conversations better than nude ones in food-less, moderately smelly locations where other men of varying ages and body tones are changing clothes?
8. I think cats see things that humans cannot.
9. Why do human beings spend 90% of their lives performing tasks they a) don't like, b) hate, c) find miserable, d) don't care about, or e) all of the above rather than spending the majority of their short time on earth doing things they actually enjoy and being around those they care about? It's insane! We get jobs and careers because we HAVE to, and then we're forced to spend most of our time toiling at them. I don't want to meet the man who would rather sit in a cubicle writing reports and giving presentations and checking regulations and protocols rather than be at home with his family or climbing a mountain or throwing a football with friends while grilling bratwursts. There's a small percentage of people out there who do not have to fall into this trap -- they truly love what they do or what they do is their dream. I do not want to fall into the trap, I want to be one of the lucky few. But the trap is like a gaping maw, a blackhole with a cackling laugh and giant neon signs around it like mouth tentacles on some nightmarish alien face that read "MISERY AHEAD," "THEY OWN YOU," "HAPPINESS IS NOT ALLOWED BEYOND THIS POINT," "IT'S UNFULFILLMENT FOR YOU, PAL." NO, no no! I do not want my life to be wasted like that! I only get one life - one shot! This isn't a game or a dream or a movie - this is real! REAL! ONE shot! No do-overs, no trying-it-again-next-time-around. THIS IS NOT A DREAM! THIS IS YOUR LIFE! THIS IS NOT A MOVIE! YOU ARE REAL! YES YOU! THE ONE READING THIS AND SUBCONSCIOUSLY GOING THROUGH LIFE LIKE IT'S ONE BIG MOVIE THAT YOU'RE WATCHING! IT'S NOT A MOVIE! IT'S REAL! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! LOOK AT YOUR HANDS RIGHT NOW! TELL YOURSELF -- "THOSE ARE MY HANDS! I AM REAL! THIS IS REALLY REAL RIGHT F'N NOW! THIS IS ALL HAPPENING!" Come off of the autopilot that we all leave on as we race through our daily lives. It gets harder to do the older you get. When I was a child I would frequently pause, look at my hands, tell myself something like I just told you to say, and it would literally (totally serious) hit me that I was real and alive and it would fill me with this mixture of dawning and panic and understanding. It was scary but also life-affirming. It was always literally like waking up from a sleep. But it would only last a few moments and I could feel my body and mind slipping back under.....now that I'm older it's harder to achieve these moments....but when they come they are still rather shocking to the system. I'm sure right now your autopilot is dismissing all this that I'm saying - maybe you're laughing to yourself - "oh, that Rick...he's so goofy, where does he come up with this stuff?" But I'm honestly telling you that if you can turn that autopilot off and "awake" for just a few moments, it will leave you feeling like the sky was just removed from the earth and you heard God clearing his throat up there.
1. As I mentioned in today's FB status - I have no problem with the CIA using mock executions to gain information from terrorists. In fact, it's something I would expect and be upset if they DIDN'T use. Have we seriously gotten to the point where we won't let the people who are trying to stop the monsters (i.e. terrorists who spend every waking moment plotting to annihilate men, women, and children) to PRETEND to execute someone so as to intimidate or frighten these soulless gents into giving up information? What's next? Will the ACLU demand that Emeril cook all their meals personally? Front row seats to the Jonas Brothers? How about we're only allowed to ask them about potential plots against Americans in writing - once a month - and it has to be written on construction paper, in crayons, and must be phrased in a friendly and casual manner so as not to upset the poor dears? Meanwhile it's totally cool for the terrorists to bomb, shoot, disembowel, and re-enact every torture scene from the Saw movies on their victims. Madness!
2. The weather these past two months has been just amazing. (Yes, I just used the word "amazing" which happens to be the catchphrase of 18-20 year old girls when describing just about anything. Oddly enough, it was also used in the same manner, with the same inflection, and same pause between the "a" and "mazing" back when I was just a lad. Some things DO never change....) It's August and it is 80 degrees outside. We haven't had our usual droughts and I don't think we've had a single day in the triple digits all summer long. Wonderful weather! Phenomenal! A-mazing!
3. Why do I seem to have more dreams (or at least remember them far better) when I sleep on two pillows instead of just one?
4. I definitely should've seen "The Goods" last weekend instead of "District 9." My brother went and saw the former without me this week, so now I probably won't get to see it until it comes out on DVD. Actually, no. More like I won't get to see it until a few years from now when I'm at a friend's house and they say "you've never seen The Goods?!?!?! How did you not see it?!?! It's hilarious!" And then they'll put the DVD on, but 20 minutes in a pipe will burst in the kitchen or a wife will start having an allergic reaction, or a child will be throwing a temper tantrum, or a dog will lap up a few beers and get behind the wheel of the family SUV - and the movie will be stopped and I'll go home and it'll be another year or two before I catch the rest of it on TBS. What would I do without TBS?
5. Please. Please. PLEASE die reality tv! DIE! Reality tv is destroying what's left of our society's cognitive skills. The youth are already toast. It just needs to be abolished. Along with MTV. In fact, anyone associated with MTV or its programming should be rounded up and exiled to Siberia.
6. When one is making oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, it is imperative that one use the "old fashioned" (full size) oats rather than the processed (and de-tastified) "quick 1-minute" oats.
7. Why do old men in gym locker-rooms insist on sitting completely naked and chatting with each other in front of other people's lockers? How is this a fun or enjoyable activity? Why not get dressed, leave the gym, and go chat over coffee or a sandwich somewhere? Aren't coffee and sandwiches and fully-clothed-conversations better than nude ones in food-less, moderately smelly locations where other men of varying ages and body tones are changing clothes?
8. I think cats see things that humans cannot.
9. Why do human beings spend 90% of their lives performing tasks they a) don't like, b) hate, c) find miserable, d) don't care about, or e) all of the above rather than spending the majority of their short time on earth doing things they actually enjoy and being around those they care about? It's insane! We get jobs and careers because we HAVE to, and then we're forced to spend most of our time toiling at them. I don't want to meet the man who would rather sit in a cubicle writing reports and giving presentations and checking regulations and protocols rather than be at home with his family or climbing a mountain or throwing a football with friends while grilling bratwursts. There's a small percentage of people out there who do not have to fall into this trap -- they truly love what they do or what they do is their dream. I do not want to fall into the trap, I want to be one of the lucky few. But the trap is like a gaping maw, a blackhole with a cackling laugh and giant neon signs around it like mouth tentacles on some nightmarish alien face that read "MISERY AHEAD," "THEY OWN YOU," "HAPPINESS IS NOT ALLOWED BEYOND THIS POINT," "IT'S UNFULFILLMENT FOR YOU, PAL." NO, no no! I do not want my life to be wasted like that! I only get one life - one shot! This isn't a game or a dream or a movie - this is real! REAL! ONE shot! No do-overs, no trying-it-again-next-time-around. THIS IS NOT A DREAM! THIS IS YOUR LIFE! THIS IS NOT A MOVIE! YOU ARE REAL! YES YOU! THE ONE READING THIS AND SUBCONSCIOUSLY GOING THROUGH LIFE LIKE IT'S ONE BIG MOVIE THAT YOU'RE WATCHING! IT'S NOT A MOVIE! IT'S REAL! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! LOOK AT YOUR HANDS RIGHT NOW! TELL YOURSELF -- "THOSE ARE MY HANDS! I AM REAL! THIS IS REALLY REAL RIGHT F'N NOW! THIS IS ALL HAPPENING!" Come off of the autopilot that we all leave on as we race through our daily lives. It gets harder to do the older you get. When I was a child I would frequently pause, look at my hands, tell myself something like I just told you to say, and it would literally (totally serious) hit me that I was real and alive and it would fill me with this mixture of dawning and panic and understanding. It was scary but also life-affirming. It was always literally like waking up from a sleep. But it would only last a few moments and I could feel my body and mind slipping back under.....now that I'm older it's harder to achieve these moments....but when they come they are still rather shocking to the system. I'm sure right now your autopilot is dismissing all this that I'm saying - maybe you're laughing to yourself - "oh, that Rick...he's so goofy, where does he come up with this stuff?" But I'm honestly telling you that if you can turn that autopilot off and "awake" for just a few moments, it will leave you feeling like the sky was just removed from the earth and you heard God clearing his throat up there.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Let the constant studying begin
The Fall semester begins tomorrow (for some of us, at least). Some of my big, menacing engineering textbooks arrived this weekend. I've been reading through them a bit and have to say that they are at least more interesting than anything we covered last year. But that's not saying much. That train of thought has led me to the notion of rating my interest in different potential course subjects. On a scale of 1-5, with 1 being complete disinterest, misery, and ranting about the subject's pointlessness and 5 being a subject that does not require effort to pay attention nor feel like "school" or "work." Everybody got that? Okay, here goes:
Last year's subjects:
Differential Equations (a.k.a. Calculus IV): 0 (I would give it a negative rating, but I'm afraid someone would misinterpret the minus sign and think I was just giving it a good grade. The asinine textbook attempted to teach a "math" subject with lots and lots of words! As much as I love the written word, I do NOT learn math through vague paragraphs explaining equally vague concepts about mathematical nonsense.)
Physics II: 1 (Circuits, charges, resistors? Ugh, I don't care. But at least there were fewer lousy X-Y graphs and Calculus equations mixed in than there were in Physics I)
Thermodynamics: 1.5 (Horrifically vague and conceptual -- not just to me, but to all engineering students. Page after page of outlandish equations. And to make matters worse our textbook was written for Hell's Engineering College, where students are tortured for eternity with books that are mostly incoherent and indecipherable.)
Materials Science: 0.5 (The only edge is had over DE was that it was not entirely about insipid Calculus functions and actually covered real-life concepts. Unfortunately, the class came after 3 other back-to-back-to-back classes, leaped around from concept to concept, covered a thousand different annoying and similar equations, and was taught in such a manner as to make it seem like a good way to get information out of captured terrorists. Even though I was utterly disinterested in DE, by the end I didn't mind going to that class -- but Materials was misery. Pure misery.)
Potential Classes, Future Classes, Other Past Classes, Etc:
College Football 101: 5
Advanced Beer Brewing: 5
Victoria's Secret Supermodels Field Study: 5
Animal Behavior: 5
The Works of Joseph Heller, Douglas Adams, and Mark Twain: 5
Straight Forward How-To Make, Fix, Heal, and Perform Everything From Penicillin to Minor Surgery: 5
Comedic Improv: 5
Fantasy Sports Science: 5
Independent Study - Novel Writing: 5
World War II History (without perspective of the "blame America" crowd, i.e. American not presented as a negative entity): 5
Film-making: 4.5
Wine-tasting and Cheese-eating: 4.5
Tomato Farming: 4.5
Straight Forward Specific Explanation of how Medications React With the Human Body (no x-y graphs or equations allowed): 4
Astronomy: 4
Wildlife Biology: 4 (potential for 5)
Firearm Instruction and Safety: 4
Script-writing: 4
Pyschology: 4
Theories of Stephen Hawking: 3.5
Space Exploration: 3.5 (potential for 4 or 4.5 depending on professor and presentation of material)
UFOs and Other Unexplained Phenomenon: 3.5 (loses points because it has the potential to get really wacky and baseless)
Study of Military Aircraft and Seagoing Vessels Throughout History: 3.5
Military Tactics: 3
Rollercoaster Design: 3
Coffee - From the Field to Your Cup: 3
Surviving in the Wild/Surviving Collapse of Civilization: 3
Meteorology: 3
Botany: 2.5
Infectious Diseases: 2.5
Anatomy: 2.5
History of the Olympic Games: 2
Skyscraper Engineering: 2
Aeronautical Engineering: 2
Biology: 2
Property Law: 2
Criminal Law: 2
Economics: 1
Cell Biology: 1
Statistics: 1
Physics: 1
How-To Use Your Graphing TI Calculator: 1
Computer Programming: 0
Calculus: 0
Study of X-Y Graphs: 0
Talking on the Phone With Credit Card Companies: 0
Dealing with Academic and Federal Bureaucracy: 0
Self-Dentistry: 0
Last year's subjects:
Differential Equations (a.k.a. Calculus IV): 0 (I would give it a negative rating, but I'm afraid someone would misinterpret the minus sign and think I was just giving it a good grade. The asinine textbook attempted to teach a "math" subject with lots and lots of words! As much as I love the written word, I do NOT learn math through vague paragraphs explaining equally vague concepts about mathematical nonsense.)
Physics II: 1 (Circuits, charges, resistors? Ugh, I don't care. But at least there were fewer lousy X-Y graphs and Calculus equations mixed in than there were in Physics I)
Thermodynamics: 1.5 (Horrifically vague and conceptual -- not just to me, but to all engineering students. Page after page of outlandish equations. And to make matters worse our textbook was written for Hell's Engineering College, where students are tortured for eternity with books that are mostly incoherent and indecipherable.)
Materials Science: 0.5 (The only edge is had over DE was that it was not entirely about insipid Calculus functions and actually covered real-life concepts. Unfortunately, the class came after 3 other back-to-back-to-back classes, leaped around from concept to concept, covered a thousand different annoying and similar equations, and was taught in such a manner as to make it seem like a good way to get information out of captured terrorists. Even though I was utterly disinterested in DE, by the end I didn't mind going to that class -- but Materials was misery. Pure misery.)
Potential Classes, Future Classes, Other Past Classes, Etc:
College Football 101: 5
Advanced Beer Brewing: 5
Victoria's Secret Supermodels Field Study: 5
Animal Behavior: 5
The Works of Joseph Heller, Douglas Adams, and Mark Twain: 5
Straight Forward How-To Make, Fix, Heal, and Perform Everything From Penicillin to Minor Surgery: 5
Comedic Improv: 5
Fantasy Sports Science: 5
Independent Study - Novel Writing: 5
World War II History (without perspective of the "blame America" crowd, i.e. American not presented as a negative entity): 5
Film-making: 4.5
Wine-tasting and Cheese-eating: 4.5
Tomato Farming: 4.5
Straight Forward Specific Explanation of how Medications React With the Human Body (no x-y graphs or equations allowed): 4
Astronomy: 4
Wildlife Biology: 4 (potential for 5)
Firearm Instruction and Safety: 4
Script-writing: 4
Pyschology: 4
Theories of Stephen Hawking: 3.5
Space Exploration: 3.5 (potential for 4 or 4.5 depending on professor and presentation of material)
UFOs and Other Unexplained Phenomenon: 3.5 (loses points because it has the potential to get really wacky and baseless)
Study of Military Aircraft and Seagoing Vessels Throughout History: 3.5
Military Tactics: 3
Rollercoaster Design: 3
Coffee - From the Field to Your Cup: 3
Surviving in the Wild/Surviving Collapse of Civilization: 3
Meteorology: 3
Botany: 2.5
Infectious Diseases: 2.5
Anatomy: 2.5
History of the Olympic Games: 2
Skyscraper Engineering: 2
Aeronautical Engineering: 2
Biology: 2
Property Law: 2
Criminal Law: 2
Economics: 1
Cell Biology: 1
Statistics: 1
Physics: 1
How-To Use Your Graphing TI Calculator: 1
Computer Programming: 0
Calculus: 0
Study of X-Y Graphs: 0
Talking on the Phone With Credit Card Companies: 0
Dealing with Academic and Federal Bureaucracy: 0
Self-Dentistry: 0
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Saturday Night Special
Tonight I bring you:
Random Made Up Lines From Novels That Do Not Exist
1. Life is a funny thing. Not so much funny in an amusing or even ironic way, but more like a sadistic and master-pulling-the-rug-out-from-under-the-pupil manner. One minute you're a vibrant, invincible lad sailing heedlessly through your youthful years. A vast and endless sea of decades and opportunities spread out before you. And then a few teetering moments later, you drag yourself out of a garbage bin and begin the teeth-clenching process of removing used razor blades, defunct syringes, and diverse species of broken glass from your suddenly not-so-Teen-Beat skin.
2. Carpel Tunnel Syndrome Man was back to his old tricks. He had fumbled his way into the entryway, past the morose plant of unknown origin and type which just insisted on lurking there by the door in its depressing little way, and now he had staggered near the pretty young coeds' apartment. The fruitful sounds that pretty young coeds make (when they're not being accosted by lecherous middle-aged men with apparently terminal carpel tunnel) drifted through the cheaply constructed walls and down both directions of the hall.
3. Dandelions. Dandelions upon dandelions. Dandelions begetting entire oceans of dandelion offspring. "Have you ever seen so many dandelions?" asked Shaw. "No. No I have not." Duncan replied. Other than the sun and the timid blue horizon, there were only dandelions to behold. A million dandelion factories operating at 110% capacity over countless day shifts and second shifts and midnight shifts and even super secret double atomic shifts could not produce this many dandelions in a reasonable or even barely sane timespan. Sure, one might point out that dandelion factories would likely have unions, and thus with the presence of such a progress and profit destroying mechanism, the inability to produce the envisioned number of dandelions is not all that surprising. But these theoretical dandelion factories would be union free -- and even then, would not be able to feasibly fill Shaw and Duncan's field of view with the appropriate number of dandelions.
4. "I remember that at some point I had the capacity to give a crap...but that time has passed."
5. The kindly old man seemed harmless enough. He had that grandfatherly air of warmth and gentleness. His attempt at a friendly smile appeared genuine. His thin gold collared shirt with the accidentally stylish short sleeves said that he was still vital enough to not be cold even in mid-summer. His cane said his hips and knees were on the fritz. And his wisps of unkempt gray hair said "at this point, do you think I really give a shit?"
6. "Get outta the car!" The gaping up-close view of a gun barrel filled Dave's vision such that he could no longer really see the car. If he could not see the car, then how could he obey the violently barked command being uttered repeatedly in his direction? "Get outta the car right now or you're dead!" Dave fumbled in the general area of the door handle. The inside rim of the barrel actually had a small silver ring. As Dave's addled brain mused over the craftsmanship of the gun barrel, his ears pulled themselves away from the tvs at their stations and resumed hearing things other than the continued threat of annihilation from the still un-comprehended figure behind the gun. Colleen. Ah yes, her. Her and her shrieking. So overpowering that his ears had simply opted to place those calls on ignore due to the threat of bodily harm coming from the opposite direction.
7. Brisbane stood at the podium, preparing to address the assembled students. Professor Thorndike and Vice-Dean of Student Concerns Westwood sat behind and to his left at a folding table pilfered from the Irish Students Association meeting that happened to be convening at the same time. Next door in the Cutler Building, the officers of the Irish Students Association sat on the floor, gazing up at their gathered brethren in various states of annoyance and confusion. The faculty goons who had taken their table had not even bothered to remove the ISA banner that had been hanging across its front. Nor had they even considered leaving behind the freshly printed information packets and sign-up information sheets that had come at significant out-of-pocket cost to the ISA. And not surprisingly, the faculty goons had also walked off with the ISA's priceless antique 12th century goat-skin map of Ireland which had been placed lovingly in the center of the table for all the members, both old and new, to enjoy. Professor O'Neil had been powerless to stop the faculty goons. As he had watched from the back of the room a thought occurred to him. Over an extended period of time, it was not inconceivable that an accumulation of slights such as this could very well lead to intense feelings of outrage and cultural angst in a specific group of people. He could almost see his beloved students field-stripping fully automatic assault rifles and speaking in the harsh clipped tones of the violently oppressed.
8. Andy's English voice strained and inched into a higher octave over the roar of the engines. "Are you sure you should be driving, Willy?" Willy turned away from the rapidly approaching and passing landscape ahead of the jet and gave Andy a disdainful look of supreme magnitude. "You don't drive a jet, you dumbass! You fly'em!" Andy wilted under Willy's continued Arkansas-ian aggression, as well as his intense whiskey-tinged breath.
Random Made Up Lines From Novels That Do Not Exist
1. Life is a funny thing. Not so much funny in an amusing or even ironic way, but more like a sadistic and master-pulling-the-rug-out-from-under-the-pupil manner. One minute you're a vibrant, invincible lad sailing heedlessly through your youthful years. A vast and endless sea of decades and opportunities spread out before you. And then a few teetering moments later, you drag yourself out of a garbage bin and begin the teeth-clenching process of removing used razor blades, defunct syringes, and diverse species of broken glass from your suddenly not-so-Teen-Beat skin.
2. Carpel Tunnel Syndrome Man was back to his old tricks. He had fumbled his way into the entryway, past the morose plant of unknown origin and type which just insisted on lurking there by the door in its depressing little way, and now he had staggered near the pretty young coeds' apartment. The fruitful sounds that pretty young coeds make (when they're not being accosted by lecherous middle-aged men with apparently terminal carpel tunnel) drifted through the cheaply constructed walls and down both directions of the hall.
3. Dandelions. Dandelions upon dandelions. Dandelions begetting entire oceans of dandelion offspring. "Have you ever seen so many dandelions?" asked Shaw. "No. No I have not." Duncan replied. Other than the sun and the timid blue horizon, there were only dandelions to behold. A million dandelion factories operating at 110% capacity over countless day shifts and second shifts and midnight shifts and even super secret double atomic shifts could not produce this many dandelions in a reasonable or even barely sane timespan. Sure, one might point out that dandelion factories would likely have unions, and thus with the presence of such a progress and profit destroying mechanism, the inability to produce the envisioned number of dandelions is not all that surprising. But these theoretical dandelion factories would be union free -- and even then, would not be able to feasibly fill Shaw and Duncan's field of view with the appropriate number of dandelions.
4. "I remember that at some point I had the capacity to give a crap...but that time has passed."
5. The kindly old man seemed harmless enough. He had that grandfatherly air of warmth and gentleness. His attempt at a friendly smile appeared genuine. His thin gold collared shirt with the accidentally stylish short sleeves said that he was still vital enough to not be cold even in mid-summer. His cane said his hips and knees were on the fritz. And his wisps of unkempt gray hair said "at this point, do you think I really give a shit?"
6. "Get outta the car!" The gaping up-close view of a gun barrel filled Dave's vision such that he could no longer really see the car. If he could not see the car, then how could he obey the violently barked command being uttered repeatedly in his direction? "Get outta the car right now or you're dead!" Dave fumbled in the general area of the door handle. The inside rim of the barrel actually had a small silver ring. As Dave's addled brain mused over the craftsmanship of the gun barrel, his ears pulled themselves away from the tvs at their stations and resumed hearing things other than the continued threat of annihilation from the still un-comprehended figure behind the gun. Colleen. Ah yes, her. Her and her shrieking. So overpowering that his ears had simply opted to place those calls on ignore due to the threat of bodily harm coming from the opposite direction.
7. Brisbane stood at the podium, preparing to address the assembled students. Professor Thorndike and Vice-Dean of Student Concerns Westwood sat behind and to his left at a folding table pilfered from the Irish Students Association meeting that happened to be convening at the same time. Next door in the Cutler Building, the officers of the Irish Students Association sat on the floor, gazing up at their gathered brethren in various states of annoyance and confusion. The faculty goons who had taken their table had not even bothered to remove the ISA banner that had been hanging across its front. Nor had they even considered leaving behind the freshly printed information packets and sign-up information sheets that had come at significant out-of-pocket cost to the ISA. And not surprisingly, the faculty goons had also walked off with the ISA's priceless antique 12th century goat-skin map of Ireland which had been placed lovingly in the center of the table for all the members, both old and new, to enjoy. Professor O'Neil had been powerless to stop the faculty goons. As he had watched from the back of the room a thought occurred to him. Over an extended period of time, it was not inconceivable that an accumulation of slights such as this could very well lead to intense feelings of outrage and cultural angst in a specific group of people. He could almost see his beloved students field-stripping fully automatic assault rifles and speaking in the harsh clipped tones of the violently oppressed.
8. Andy's English voice strained and inched into a higher octave over the roar of the engines. "Are you sure you should be driving, Willy?" Willy turned away from the rapidly approaching and passing landscape ahead of the jet and gave Andy a disdainful look of supreme magnitude. "You don't drive a jet, you dumbass! You fly'em!" Andy wilted under Willy's continued Arkansas-ian aggression, as well as his intense whiskey-tinged breath.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
America is starting to awake
Good morning, America. While you were asleep all these months, socialists made a power-grab. Get that coffee down and continue voicing your disgust with this health care nightmare plan they have. You don't want a government agency deciding which medical treatments you can have? Me neither. You don't like the idea of such a government body letting the sick and elderly die because it costs too much to treat them? You think that sounds a bit too much like legalized genocide? Yeah, me too. You think it's good that you can decide if and when you go to the doctor and generally get an appointment fairly soon? Yes, that is pretty nice. You mean you don't want to have to wait months or years and have the doctor you visit determined by the government? And you think it's wrong for the government to be able to access your bank account? What does that even have to do with health care? Why would that even be in the health care bill? And how come they feel this need to rush an extremely drastic and apparently UNREAD piece of legislation that affects every single aspect of our lives down our throats? Perhaps because America is not as stupid as they thought. (Or as we thought.) As outraged Americans tell members of Congress how they feel about their "plans," these "public servants" look down at us, say that we're all fakes, plants, "manufactured." The sad thing is, these career politicians with their superior attitudes will likely continue to ignore us, dismiss us, and see us as nothing more than gnats. Finally - FINALLY - other Americans other than myself seem to be awakening to the fake way that most politicians speak! That lawyer-esque, salesman, wishy-washy, dance-around-the-truth-by-saying-nothing-at-all disgusting soulless politician-speak! Keep the coffee coming, America. Keep fighting.
(a side note:)
For my liberal friends who may be thinking of answering the White House's call and reporting me to them for "spreading disinformation" regarding health care.....I ask how you would have felt had the Bush administration asked Americans to report on other Americans who were "spreading disinformation" about the Iraq War? I have heard that this could actually be illegal, as in the government cannot gather information on private citizens who are practicing their right to free speech. But if the White House wants to know who is spreading disinformation -- shouldn't they be reporting themselves and the DNC?
This is not a game. This isn't like going out to eat and trying something new and just seeing how it tastes. This isn't just a fun debate where one side wins and gets to go have a pizza party and be patted on the head by their professor.
Wake up, everybody!
If you don't think the mainstream media is completely in the tank for one side - consider this: recently there was a Tea Party rally in Columbus, Ohio. The MSM largely failed to even mention it - and when it was, it was passed off as "a few hundred people." According to video evidence and the Columbus police, there were between 8,000-10,000.
Yeah, we're all fake. Our anger is "manufactured." How could I forget that we're all just extremists who need to be watched by Homeland Security. How dare we call people who lie liars. How dare we express our opinions. How dare we not hand over our own minds and just let the almighty and omniscient government tells us how to live our lives.
(end rant)
Okay, I'm really going to try to write something more trivial and goofy for my next blog. But it's kind of like being on the front-lines of a battle and taking time out from shooting back to chat baseball. I know - I can expand on my theory about how talking about potty training is the female equivalent of fantasy football for men. That should be stress-free and enjoyable for all.
(a side note:)
For my liberal friends who may be thinking of answering the White House's call and reporting me to them for "spreading disinformation" regarding health care.....I ask how you would have felt had the Bush administration asked Americans to report on other Americans who were "spreading disinformation" about the Iraq War? I have heard that this could actually be illegal, as in the government cannot gather information on private citizens who are practicing their right to free speech. But if the White House wants to know who is spreading disinformation -- shouldn't they be reporting themselves and the DNC?
This is not a game. This isn't like going out to eat and trying something new and just seeing how it tastes. This isn't just a fun debate where one side wins and gets to go have a pizza party and be patted on the head by their professor.
Wake up, everybody!
If you don't think the mainstream media is completely in the tank for one side - consider this: recently there was a Tea Party rally in Columbus, Ohio. The MSM largely failed to even mention it - and when it was, it was passed off as "a few hundred people." According to video evidence and the Columbus police, there were between 8,000-10,000.
Yeah, we're all fake. Our anger is "manufactured." How could I forget that we're all just extremists who need to be watched by Homeland Security. How dare we call people who lie liars. How dare we express our opinions. How dare we not hand over our own minds and just let the almighty and omniscient government tells us how to live our lives.
(end rant)
Okay, I'm really going to try to write something more trivial and goofy for my next blog. But it's kind of like being on the front-lines of a battle and taking time out from shooting back to chat baseball. I know - I can expand on my theory about how talking about potty training is the female equivalent of fantasy football for men. That should be stress-free and enjoyable for all.
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