A few years ago, I ran across a video on KaZaA entitled "Metallica - The Unforgiven Rare Batman Video". I know I know, sounds friggin awesome, right? I mean, just look at the title. How can you mix Metallica with Batman and not get something friggin cool? In fact, how can you mix Batman with anything and not get something at least sorta cool? So I downloaded it and prepared myself to be blown away. Unfortunately, I was not blown away. I felt more confused than anything else. And yet, there was something about it that I found strangely appealing. It left me with that "what the f*ck just happened?" feeling; like feeling you get when you wake up from a nap somwhere and can't remember how you got there. And I gotta say, it felt kinda good--so good I watched the damn thing over and over again and showed it to all my friends. It's gotten to the point where I can't hear "The Unforgiven" and not think about scenes from the video. So I decided to post it on the website for all to see. I took the liberty of writing up a "review" of sorts, in case you are hesitant about downloading it for yourselves. Click here to check it out.
Few things can piss me off like the ridiculous bureaucracy at my school.
Today I finally snapped when the registrar's office told me I had "outstanding
obligations" that would prevent me from registering for classes,
but did not say what those obligations were. Is it too much to ask to
get some f*cking service around here? My actual e-mail reply follows...
Your office sent me an e-mail informing me that i have outstanding obligations that would prevent me from registering for classes. It says details will be listed "below" but as you can see if you look at the e-mail "below", no such details were listed. I have gotten these automatic warnings before, so I know your system is capable of actually informing me of what my outstanding obligations are. Why it has chosen not to do so in this case is mysterious to me. I wouldn't mind except for the fact that it clearly says the details will be there. I mean, if it said I should call the registrar to find out the details, fine, I would have no problem with that. But it doesn't say that. It says they will be in the e-mail. I therefore don't think it is unreasonable to expect to find said details in the e-mail.
Maybe I'm overreacting. But this is all the more ridiculous because
I can't imagine what outstanding obligations I might have. I checked
campus web and i have no outstanding charges on my account and my financial
aid has all come through, and I declared my major last semester. What
more do you people want from me? Every other semester I have had some
real outstanding obligation, but I don't think I do this time. So what
is it? Have you gotten so used to telling me that I can't register
that you just assume something will come up? Are you going for 4-0
on making me jump through hoops at registration time? I realize this
e-mail is excessively long, and you are busy people and so forth, and
I'm wasting my own time by ranting unnecessarily. But in this faceless
society of ours, sometimes a person needs to write a correspondence
as if there is another living, breathing, thinking person at the other
end. After all, if I wanted to reply as a computer would, I would have
said that your original e-mail would be included below and then not
included it. Reply at your leisure, if I get really impatient I'll
just walk down to your office and rant in person.
Now, to some, my slightly combative e-mail might be a bit of an overreaction.
I respectfully disagree. If they can't even have the courtesy to screen
their e-mails for computer generated idiocy, I don't see why I should
have the courtesy to be civil in my reply. Still think I'm over reacting?
Below are the details of why you are wrong. Please make arrangements
with me to correct you're wrong-ness prior to April 11, 2005 for in-person
apology or before you begin the online apology process via CampusWeb.
Well folks, it's a new year, and time for some changes around here. Most obviously, the color scheme is completely different. I felt the previous arrangement with a dark red background and lighter headlines was not disorienting enough. The new color scheme features bright red, yellow and white text. Read for too long and your eyes start to hurt. And that's not the only improvement. I have also changed the name of the site to Rye.com and created a sort of cool logo. Note that the web address is NOT Rye.com. That is a completely different site with which I have no affiliation. I realize that giving my site a name that looks like its web address but is really a totally different web address is somewhat confusing. But frankly, I don't care. This is my web site and I'll call it whatever the hell I want to call it. I could call it "The Knitting Emporium", "The Care Bears Shrine", or "Ethan's Shithole" if I wanted to. Who knows, maybe next year I will name it one of those things. Whateva, I do what I want. For now, Rye.com is here to stay, so get used to it.
In other news, I am a total idiot, and I'll tell you why. Some of you may be under the impression that I'm good at making web sites... Well, alright, then maybe you are under the impression that I don't completely suck at making web sites. In any case, you're wrong. I do suck. For some stupid reason, when I made the gallery, instead of linking every image in the grid to a small picture (a thumbnail), I just linked them to the full sized image and then used html to shrink them down to a small box in the browser window. As a result, all the data for the full sized pictures had to be downloaded to the end-user even though the end result was a small picture. This made load time intolerable for anyone not on the Drew network. But since I am on the Drew network and am a total idiot, I did not realize it takes 10 minutes for the gallery to load on most computers. I didn't notice, that is, until I tried to view the page from home over break. I have since rectified the problem by creating actual thumbnails which contain a fraction of the data the full-sized pictures contain. This will significantly cut down on the load time of the gallery. I'd apologize to all the people who ever patiently waited for the entire page to load, but I'm quite sure I could count those people on the biological parts of Luke Skywalker's left hand (post ESB), so I won't bother. BTW, if you understood every part of that reference, then you can consider yourself a geek. And if you've already started typing up an e-mail explaining that Luke lost his right hand, not his left hand, then you need help. Seriously. Even I had to look that one up.
Check it out. There's no need for commentary, it speaks for itself.
In case you were wondering, here's a list of search terms that you can use to find this site via search engines. I can certify that all of these work because I gleaned them from data on my web-counter. You'll notice I had to comment on all of them, I just couldn't resist.
OK, first of all, I realize it's been an excessively long time since my last update. For some reason whenever I have to choose between doing homework and updating the web site I always choose homework. This is clearly out of some misguided notion that my grades actually matter. But old habits die hard, and when you get right down to it, I hate not getting A's. It's foolish really, an A in international law will not help me in my future career as a sidewalk obstructionist. From time to time though, a great battle takes place in my brain, and sometimes my urge to screw around overcomes my instinct to do something productive. For example, I'm here writing now because I decided not to study for my History test. I decided to screw around now and frantically study 20 pages of notes and 200 pages of text later. Life is all about checks and balances, you see.
Speaking of checks and balances, did anyone else notice that there are none left in the American government? As of two days ago, Republicans run everything. Checks and balances don't really work if all three branches of government are controlled by the same people. Now I know what it must feel like to be a conservative in the UK. Almost makes me feel bad for them...almost. I wonder, do the conservatives in the UK talk about moving to Canada too? Or would they prefer France or something? Guess I don't really understand European politics that well. France is the one with all the cheese, right?
Now, I must admit, I didn't vote. This apparently means I'm supposed to "shut up". Well f*ck that. I used to believe that crap too, then I actually became old enough to vote and realized two things. A) I'm too lazy to bother registering in advance and 2) I can't vote if I haven't registered in advance. Oh, and D) If I vote I'd just be legitimizing a corrupt and discriminatory election system. Of course, if I lived in one of the "swing states" then I probably would have voted because my vote would actually count for something there (barring intervention by the Republicans). BTW, for those of you who haven't had the privilege of living in a decidedly "red" or "blue" state, you should consider moving. I happen to live in a blue state, and it's great. Believe it or not, here we don't have to watch misleading, inflammatory, and downright annoying propaganda during every commercial break in an election year. I know, I know, it almost sounds too good to be true, but it's not. Yeah, Tax-achusetts not lookin so bad now is it? Anyway, as I indicated at the start of this paragraph, despite my status as a "non-voting person" (or "fascist", as some would say), I'm still going whine about the election. I strenuously object to having Herr Bush lord over the planet from his seat in Washington like Yurdle the Turtle. That's probably why they made those human pyramids with prisoners in Iraq. They were trying to build a tower high enough to let Bush see into Iran. (if you haven't read Yurdle the Turtle, you need to do in order to get that joke. In fact, you should just read it anyway cuz it's an awesome book)
At this point you may be asking yourself "Self, why does Ethan hate Bush so much?" Well that's very simple. You see, now that the Red Sox have defeated the Yankees, Bush has inherited the title of "anti-christ", an honor previously held by George Steinbrenner. I realize the term "anti-christ" gets thrown around a lot nowadays, but as a bona-fide Christian, I can assure you that I am using the term in it's proper context. You see, according Revelations 13:4, the anti-christ is defined as "a total douchebag who likes to imprison people without trial and kill thousands of innocent Iraqi's to advance U.S. strategic intere-- er, that is, to 'liberate' them. Also, he lives in Texas and hates homosexuals and poor people" Look it up, it's in there. No, really.
A few weeks ago I bitched about ABC for pimping their "Apprentice" rip off, "The Benefactor" during a Pats game. I was very disappointed in ABC for pulling a "FOX" by ripping off someone else's idea. As if to emphasize the point, FOX has now created it's own rip off of "The Apprentice", but with FOX's trademark twist of just making up the whole thing to screw with people. And I have to admire that. However, I was not impressed with their earlier effort, "My Big Fat Obnoxious Fiance". Even though I never watched it, I'm pretty sure it sucked ass. But I have reason to believe "My Big Fat Obnoxious Boss" might actually not suck. True, the title is so stupid it makes me want to vomit (the boss isn't even fat for crying out loud), but judging by the commercials, there could be some funny-ass shenanigans going down on this show. Basically the premise is that this millionaire is looking to hire a personal assistant or something and he has them do crazy stunts to prove their mettle on national TV. But wait! There's a twist! Surprise! It's not real. So basically FOX is putting these morons through hell for nothing, sweet. But it gets better. The commercial shows the contestants clutching briefcases and frantically trying to do something with a copy machine while someone pelts them with paintballs. "It says there's a paper jam! There's a paper jam!" one of them screams as green blobs of paint explode all over them. Fucking classic. But the best part has to be the "millionaire" who seems a lot like that British guy from American Idol, only funny. What's most impressive is that he can keep a straight face while saying things like "I think I could kill you" to hapless potential employees. He even manages to make the line "get the hell out of my office" (an obvious rip-off of Trump's "you're fired") look cool by degrading the contestants with lameness, like in this exchange from the commercial:
So lame it's funny. Again, I was impressed that he could pull that off with a straight face. I fully intend to watch this show in the hopes of seeing more of this guy breaking down the morons who fell for this show. I've even got my own suggestion for a cool/lame way to fire someone:
"A loser says what"
Ok, so I stole that one from Family Guy. In that case, FOX should be all over it.
Last update I bitched about the annoying Coors Lite commercials that air during football games. This time I thought I would point out some of the better beer commercials that air during the games. Topping the list are the "brilliant" commercials created by Guinness Beer. These things crack me up every time:
Guinness commercial #1
Guy 1: What's that you have?
Guinness commercial #2
Guy 1: What are you holding now?
Guinness commercial #3 (note, this one is somewhat paraphrased, as I can't remember exactly how it goes)
Guy 1: I've invented a little black book for writing down women's phone
Check back later for more awesome beer commercials!
I hate those annoying commercials for ABC's new show, "The Benefactor." It looks so friggin stupid, and it's such a blatant rip-off of that one on NBC with donald trump, I can't stand it. And they have the gall to bitch about FOX stealing their idea for the retarded wife swapping show. Not only that, but "The Benefactor" seems about 100 times stupider than Trump's thing. I'll admit, I'm pretty damn sick of hearing him say "you're fired" but it's way less annoying than "you're outta here". Was this "benefactor" once an umpire or something?
What's with those Coors Lite commercials pimping their "shipped cold" beer? If you buy it from the freezer, it's cold, what difference does it make if it was shipped warm? I frankly can't see why Coors would bother with refrigeration at all. Their beer already tastes like piss, might as well be the same temperature.
You know, the XFL was a pretty stupid concept. But there were two things they did well. One was that zip line camera thingy that the NFL has since started using. The other was gratuitous close-ups of cheerleaders. Unfortunately, the NFL has yet to jump on the cheerleader bandwagon. If anything, since the Super Bowl Halftime Show fiasco, coverage of the "sidelines" has been even more prudish. I can't help but wonder why the NFL thinks it's adequate to do a 5 second pan of the cheerleaders a couple times a game. Half the time all you can see is their heads. I mean, why even show them at all? I think the only time they get significant air time is during winter games when they have more clothes on (see image at left), and again, why even bother? Don't get me wrong, I watch football for the game, not the scenery. But seeing as how those cheerleaders are out there anyway, they might as well get some decent air time. Maybe they could cut down on those useless shots of the coaches standing around looking disgruntled, or, if we're lucky, pacing around looking disgruntled, and give the girls a little more, uh... exposure.
Sometimes I hate my school. I had the latest update for this web site ready to go on the 19th, but I couldn't upload the files then because Drew's network has been screwed up since the 13th. By the 17th they had every service up and running except FTP, meaning we could do anything we wanted on the network except uploading files. For 10 days that was the only service that wasn't functioning. What the hell were the CNS (Computing and Network Services) people doing all that time? Probably working around the clock to make sure their massive porn collection was still intact on that secure server they've got in their secret lair under the BC ("The network is crashing? Quick! To the Porn Cave!"). I almost e-mailed CNS to bitch, but it wouldn't have accomplished anything so I didn't bother. But I'm still mad so instead I'm bitching here. From the time I had the update finished to the time I was able to upload it, more than 200 visitors came to the site. That's 200 people who could have checked out the new material if the network had been working properly. Nothing CNS does now can get those visitors back. Sure, 90% of them were probably looking for the predator pics that don't exist here, but the update included an actual picture of predator that I added to the gallery. That was my chance to bring in the Predator audience with my trademark wit and sarcasm. And now that audience is largely gone. Sure, I'm still getting a good deal of predator traffic, but last week was the peak because of that stupid Alien vs. Predator movie. When am I gonna get a chance like that again? Alien vs. Predator II perhaps? And who knows when will that be? Crappy movie sequels only come around once every few years. Remember how long it was between Alien 3 and Alien: Resurrection? Of course you don't, cuz no one remembers those shitty movies. But it was a long time, I'm pretty sure. Anyway, I'm really pissed. This network foul-up delayed my update more than a week. I procrastinate enough on these updates as it is, I don't need my school making things worse than they already are. Nothing can make up for this incredible betrayal. Nothing, that is, other than another 100mb of web space, hint hint... Aw man, who am I kidding? None of the CNS people are reading this stuff; no one from Drew is. No, the only people that might read this are the morons still hoping to find a link to predator pictures buried somewhere in this diatribe. Give up losers! Haven't you figured it out yet? There's no predator here, stop looking!
Hornets are taking over my house. I hate hornets; they scare the crap out of me for some reason. I've been stung before and it wasn't really that bad, but I'm still scared of them. Whenever I hear that telltale buzz in my ear, I instinctively duck and cover, and run like hell. If I see the hornet approach I tend to react more calmly. I'll just maintain a minimum distance from it at all times and only run if it starts to fly towards me. This makes it very difficult to do yard work, as you can imagine. Well this year it's not just hard, it's damn near impossible. The things have friggin blitzed the house in the last few weeks. So far I've seen and sprayed two nests and taken out at least 5 hornets individually, but now there's more than ever. Today was the last straw. I was trying to set up this tarp thing over the patio to provide shade for cooking out, but hornets kept showing up to chase me away. It got to the point where I couldn't be outside for more than a couple minutes before a hornet would crash the party and I'd be forced to flee. Well eventually, the tarp collapsed in a gust of wind because I hadn't been able to get all the poles tied down correctly, and I just friggin snapped. I got out the hornet spray and tried to take out anything that flew. I think I only got two of the bastards though. After observing their flight patterns for a few minutes, I discovered at least two concealed nests that had previously escaped my notice, and that was just on one side of the house. I'm willing to bet there are more in other parts of the yard.
This invasion will not stand. I've made too many compromises already, too many retreats. They invade my mailbox, and I fall back. They attack me whenever I mow the lawn and still I fall back. But not this time. The line must be drawn HERE! This far; NO farther! And I will make them pay for what they've done. It's time to declare all out war on these douchebags. If you hornets want this house, you'll have to go through me. Think you can take me? Well bring the shizzle, biznatch! I'll spray down the whole friggin house if I have to. I'll kill everything that flies: hornets, butterflies, birds, low-flying airplanes; all will suffer my wrath. You think having your last nest sprayed down was painful? Well that was just a taste of the fury I will rain down upon you in the days to come. Mark your calendars, cuz June 10th is Judgment Day. This time Thursday the only thing left of your once mighty empire will be pesticide-soaked house and a smoldering pile of exoskeletons.
Again, no rant today. I was listening to some arnold prank calls and I started wondering what it would be like if one dude used an arnie soundboard to prank another dude who was using an arnie soundboard. The following hypothetical dialogue is evidence that I thought about it way too much. Enjoy.
Arnold 1: "Hi"
This is a homework assignment I did for anthropology recently. We were supposed to come up with a sample of "private language" that some group we are a part of uses. It had to be something that "outsiders" would not be able to understand unless it was explained to them. After much deliberation, I decided to go with the word "trautman" which "the gang" in Seekonk has recently become fond of. I found this to be one of the most interesting assignments I've done all year because it gave me an excuse to write out some of the random crap the gang talks about while doing ordinary things, like playing pool.
5 guys, Tim, Kevin, Pete, Dan, and Ethan are hanging out in Kevin's basement. Kevin and Tim are engaged in a game of pool
Tim: I was talking to my Philosophy professor the other
day, that guy is wicked smart.
The dialogue above is an example of a "typical" conversation my friends and I might have. To an outside observer, the discussion is probably easy to follow until about halfway through, when the word "trautmaning" is introduced. The use of that word initiates an exchange which, if taken literally, seems to make no sense. To us though, it not only makes perfect sense, it's also extremely funny.
The word "trautmaning" is derived from the name of a character in the Rambo trilogy, Colonel Trautman (pronounced trout-men). He was Rambo's commanding officer in Vietnam and he shows up in all 3 movies. About a year ago when I was watching the first Rambo movie with some friends, someone noted that Trautman extolled Rambo's abilities in almost every scene he was in. As the movie went on, Trautman got more and more outlandish in his descriptions. In one scene, he declared that Rambo had, "been trained to ignore pain, to ignore weather. To live off the land and eat things that would make a billy goat puke." Eventually, even the other characters get annoyed with Trautman's shameless Rambo plugs. Sheriff Teasle, who's become obsessed with apprehending Rambo, angrily asks, "are you telling me that 200 of our men against your boy is a no-win situation for us?" Trautman replies, "you bring that many men, just remember one thing… a good supply of body bags." Trautman only got worse in the sequels. In Rambo III, the Russian commander who's been listening to Trautman go on about Rambo for days finally asks him, "Who do you think this man is, God?" Trautman says, "No, God would have mercy, he won't."
My friends and I found all of this to be quite hilarious. We committed some of Trautman's best lines to memory and quoted them at every opportunity for a cheap laugh. Every time someone was reminded of something Trautman had done or said, a barrage of quotes would follow from anyone who could think of one. It was not long before someone came up with the idea to use the word trautman itself as a description of a Trautman-style phrase. Those of us who had seen the movies and had been quoting Trautman lines for weeks immediately picked up on it. It eventually evolved into a multi-purpose word that could describe a phrase, a person, or an action. The reason for using the word was always to get a laugh; it was the ultimate inside joke.
The dialogue above is a typical example of how we would use trautman in everyday conversation. When Tim's repeated plugs for his school get in the way of playing pool, it strikes me as something Trautman might have done, so I use the word in the most convenient form for the occasion, in this case a verb. This immediately gets a laugh and Dan expresses his approval. Tim defends his conduct (no one wants to be thought of as a trautman) but is outvoted by Pete, who keeps the joke going by recalling a Trautman line from the movie. Dan and Kevin jump in with their own lines, and I finish the sequence with the famous quote that everyone knows is coming: "…a good supply of body bags."
Although the main reason for using trautman is to make a joke, it also happens to be a convenient way to describe very particular words, actions, and behaviors. It's roughly synonymous with the word "advocate", but with the added concept of being "over the top" or "extreme". Another reason we use trautman is that it is a reminder of a shared group experience. Every time we use the word we also think back to all the times we watched Rambo and other movies together. It's a way of expressing and reaffirming the bonds that tie us together as a group of friends. Trautman is still regularly in use by the five people mentioned in above in the dialogue, though not as much as it once was. There may be a few other people who know what it means because we've explained it, but to the best of my knowledge it has not spread far beyond the five of us. Whether it will endure remains to be seen, but I suspect that it will. The fact that it's lasted a year is a testament to its prominent status in our group identity. Trautman is uniquely ours, and its endurance is a sign of the endurance of the group as a whole.
The following is a letter to the editor I wrote in response to an opinion piece published in Drew's newspaper, The Acorn. I have never written a letter to the editor before, but this Fazzio guy pissed me off so much I decided to break my silence. The original article can be found at the following link:
To the Editor:
I'm writing in response to Chris Fazzino's grossly inaccurate and misleading opinion column last week entitled "Kerry unsuitable candidate for fight against terrorism". This only one of several sloppy and uninformed opinion pieces I have seen in the Acorn of the last 2 semesters, and it reflects poorly on the paper as a whole.
Fazzino begins his argument by claiming Kerry was wrong when he said that President Bush exaggerated the threat of terrorism. As "evidence", Fazzino provided a quote in which Kerry cited 3 specific claims the Bush administration made about Iraq's current or imminent weapons capabilities or prior to the war, all of which turned out to have been wrong or exaggerated. In defense of Bush, Fazzino stated "...Bush is only mentioning instruments of terrorism. When President Bush listed these methods, he was not exaggerating, but he was showing a sign of prudence." Are we then to believe that proclaiming the existence something that does not actually exist should not be called exaggerating? Is "prudence" the new "exaggeration"? Sounds like fuzzy semantics to me.
Next, Fazzino attacked Kerry's statement that the war on terrorism is "primarily an intelligence and law enforcement operation." He declared that if Kerry was President and the CIA discovered a terrorist plot to detonate a nuclear device in an American city, law enforcement could not do anything about it. Fazzino reasoned that the terrorists could not be arrested because, until they actually commit a terrorist act, they haven't committed any crimes. Apparently Mr. Fazzino is under the mistaken impression that it is not a crime to conspire to kill thousands of people, regardless of whether or not the plot comes to fruition.
Fazzino then uses his incorrect statements to make the case that law enforcement can't deal with terrorism. He states "There is only one way [to deal with terrorism]: you have to take them out." He promotes "taking the fight to the terrorists" as opposed to indicting and trying them. This is an absurd argument. Why can't we do both? Law enforcement actions have captured terrorists all over the world and undoubtedly stopped countless terrorist plots. To think that military force is the only way to stop terrorism is to deny reality. The limitations of military force have been proven time and time again, most notably by Israel's ineffective attempts to stop terrorism with helicopter attacks against Palestinian terror groups.
I could write several pages on the countless other errors of fact and logic in Mr. Fazzino's piece, but I think I've made my point. I would hope that in the future, the Acorn will try to ensure some standards of integrity and accuracy in the opinion section. To not do so would be to sanction a continuing disservice to the entire Drew community.
I'm not really in a ranting mood today, and I haven't been for a while, but I figured since it's way past time for an update I should do it now while I have time. Part of the reason I don't feel like ranting is that I have been working on a 10 page paper for the last 3 weeks and I'm out of writing-juice. So rather than trying to put together a coherent thought here, I'm just gonna go off the deep end and see where things go. As the great Sam Jackson said in that scene in Jurassic Park where they turn off all the power to reboot the system, "hold on to your butts..."
-I've got like, 10 bagles over here, if anyone wants some. I would just eat them all myself, but I can't eat that many bagles before break, and they will get stale if left until I get back. Just don't go getting ideas about me being a generous person and all, because I'm not. I'm only sharing these bagles because they were free in the first place and I can't eat them myself. If I had paid for them, or if I was able to eat them all, then none of you would get any. So take advantage of this rare, free bagle opportunity while you have a chance. They're going fast.
-I would just keep the bagles in the fridge over break, but apparently we have to unplug our refrigerators. Why, you ask? I have no idea. Maybe because the people who run this school are fucking morons? Maybe they know Kunal and I are hoarding the bagles and they want a cut, so they're forcing us to give away the bagles, hoping to get a piece of that hot bagle action. Who's "they" you ask? Why do I keep saying the word "bagle"? And what the hell do I mean by "hot bagle action" anyway? All I can say is, bagel bagle bagle bagle bagle.... bagle.
-FYI, I think I'm slowly going insane. What makes me say that, you ask? Well for one thing, I just used the expression "FYI" which I never do. For another, I keep writing down questions, such as "what makes me say that, you ask?" as if people were here asking them, which they aren't. Most disturbing of all though, a few nights ago I was acting so strangely that a friend felt the need to come over to make sure I was "o.k." See, I was working on this paper late at night and drinking Mt. Dew, and I started getting all twitchy and weird. At one point I compared my own behavior to that of a coke addict. Perhaps most disturbing of all was the fact that I have never seen a coke addict, so how do I know what one would act like? Also, I keep getting these random itches, like, on my arm and stuff. I can't figure out what's up with that. Last I checked, random itches wasn't a symptom of insanity, but it is weird, no? But I think I first realized I might be having mental problems is when I tried to communicate a complete thought using only the word "bagle". That's just weird.
-My chair is really annoying, the one screw holding the seat part to the frame keeps falling out, and I keep fixing it. I mean, sure, it makes me feel like a big man, getting out my toolbox and fixing my own chair; but there are never any girls around to impress when it happens. Kunal is the only one who can prove I have actually fixed the damn thing, and he is not a good witness because he's never impressed by my prowess with tools. And he really should be, cuz he advised me to call facilities after the first chair-crisis. So when I busted out my toolbox (Kunal doesn't even have a toolbox, btw) he shoulda been like "Woah man, you're gonna fix it yourself? That's totally dangerous!" and I'd say "It's ok, Kunal, I'm from Maine, I know how to handle this." Skeptics among you would be quick to point out that I obviously don't know how to fix it because the screw keeps falling out. If you just said that to yourself, then you obviously don't know the first thing about chairs. The screw is supposed to fall out, it's what we in the chair fixing business call a "break-away" screw. When too much stress is placed on it, like when I lean back in the chair, it falls out to prevent further chair damage. No, really. I'm serious, and if you'll believe that, there's a bagle in Brooklyn I can sell you.
(BTW, I am aware of the fact that I spelled the word "bagel" wrong in this rant. One friend was kind enough to alert me to this fact, and I thank him. I have chosen not to correct my mistake because a) it would take a while to change all those 'bagle's to 'bagel's and b) It really should be spelled b-a-g-l-e because that's more phonetically correct than b-a-g-e-l, which should be pronounced "bah-jel". And as for the rest of my friends, who noticed I spelled it wrong but thought it would be funnier not to tell me: you guys can blow me. Mark my words, your time will come.)
The following is a partial account of the epic War on Randy Savage. All entries were written on the date indicated in my AIM profile, and thus they represent the most complete record of hostilities available at this time. Although I must admit to having some degree of bias, I assure the reader that the major details are entirely accurate. Please note that when I entered the conflict, a state of war had been in existence for an undetermined amount of time, and thus my knowledge of the opening stages of the conflict is limited at best.
1/29/04 - Day 1
2/1/04 - Day 4
2/5/04 - Day 8
2/6/04 - Day 9
Those of you who saw my room last semester know I have some odd posters. You probably saw the one of Yoda made up of tiny scenes from Star Wars. Then there's the "contemplation" poster, the poster with the nebula, and the collage of Far Side strips torn from my date book. If you haven't seen my room this semester, then you wouldn't know that I have one new poster that differs greatly from the others. It features a half naked chick in a plaid skirt with books tucked under her arms and a tie strategically draped over her chest, with the words "Study Hard!" in the corner. Although I expected guys to be more enthusiastic about the new decoration than girls, I was unprepared for the strange reactions I got.
Kunal, my roommate, simply said "nice!" when presented with the new addition (which, btw, I taped to the ceiling over my bed). This turned out to be a typical guy reaction. Paul, from across the hall, was greatly impressed, and Kunal told me Pedro and Evan also approved, though I was not present for their reactions. Girls had much different and far more bizarre comments to make. Lisa and Erin avoided looking at the poster as much as possible. They did, however, look long enough to note that the woman on the poster was not a real blonde because her roots were clearly visible. Also, her eyes are apparently too dark for her hair. They said this as if they thought I would become horrified at being deceived and immediately jump up and tear the poster down in a rage. When this did not happen, they offered to take it down for me. Actually, threatened is probably a better way of putting it. Melissa from down the hall had a similar reaction. Her only comment was "those aren't real you know". Really? I hadn't really thought about it. But now that you mention it.. I still don’t give a shit. Girls seem to be under the impression that dyed hair and fake breasts are turnoffs. Perhaps they thought I only liked the poster because the woman was blonde and busty, and if I knew she wasn't "natural", then I would find her unattractive. Of course, why they care if I find some chick on a poster to be attractive is beyond me.
Why do girls react this way? Perhaps the attractive woman on the ceiling makes them feel inferior, so they must criticize her hair color and suggest that she had cosmetic surgery to make her feel bad as compensation. I shudder to think what would have happened if it had been a real person and not a poster. The strong reactions are especially surprising considering the fact that if I walked into one of their rooms and saw a picture of a half naked, really buff guy, I would react only with amusement. I certainly would not suggest that they guy was "not that good looking" (which is an actual comment I received from a girl about my poster). I would have to admit, at least to myself that, yes; the buff guy in the picture is more attractive than me. I would probably make a wisecrack or two, but I would not try to make the other guy look bad by suggesting that he only looked that good because he's on steroids. Because that would be petty and absurd. It's just a freakin poster. I'm not dating the chick on my ceiling, I'm just looking at her. And it doesn't matter if her hair is dyed or if she has breast implants, she's still hot. Guess I should wrap this up, I can already hear girls everywhere hissing at me.
Ok, so me, Tim, Kevin, and Dan were going to Sharon to visit Erinn's roommate, because we were bored. Erinn didn't want to come with us cuz she was tired or something, so Tim figures we should take pictures to prove we were there. Turns out the roommate was in North Carolina, so we drive to her house, take a picture of Kevin flipping off the camera in front of her door, and head back. For further evidence, we decided to take a picture of the Starbucks in town. So we park and start walkin towards the starbucks, there's not a soul in sight. We're not out of the car 2 minutes when a cop pulls up. He asks what we're doing and where we're from. We tell him we're takin pictures. He asks if Kevin and Tim are smokin blunts, they say no, they're cigars. Apparently the cop didn't believe em, cuz he pulls off the road and asks for our ID's and continues to question us, askin about who we came to visit, if we have outstanding warrants, or if we've been in trouble with the police in Seekonk. He finds out Tim's "in charge" cuz he was driving, so he says if there's any vandalism or anything, Tim's gonna be responsible for us. Finally, he gets out of the car and pats us down! He doesn't find anything of course, then tells us to go take our pictures and then leave town.
What the fuck is that? We didn't do anything suspicious, we were just walkin down the street. We didn't give the cop any attitude, we were model citizens, and still he gets out of the car and searches us. In all my run-in's with the cops in seekonk (which were all perfectly innocent) I was never once searched. What the hell did we do to be treated like criminals? I can understand him stopping to ask what we were up to, and maybe askin our names, but he really had no viable reason for doing so. We weren't breaking any laws, we weren't makin any commotion or acting suspicious, we were just walking. This just reinforces my opinion that cops are douches. To be fair, the guy was nice and all, we had a strange conversation about our majors and stuff, but it doesn't make up for the fact that our persons were violated for no reason at all. Yeah, I said violated: he definitely grabbed our crotches. He also called me a "Brain" because I said I was a physics major. Now, it's not like a huge insult to be called a brain, my own friends call me "the host" (because they felt they were parasites who fed off me throughout high school, which is somewhat true) which is even more insulting, except that they are my friends. This guy was not my friend, and I don't appreciate him attaching a lable to me based only on my major. He could have said "i guess you must be pretty smart" or "that's a challenging field, way to go" but no, he said "oh, you're a brain, huh?" or words to that effect. He may as well have said "so you're a real nerd then, huh?" or "i bet you find social situations awkward" Now, i will admit that both of those statements are true to some degree, but it's still a negative stereotype and i don't appreciate it, especially when it's coming from the guy who's grabbing my junk.
Some movies are so bad, they're good. I should know, I've seen a lot of bad movies. It all started about a year ago at Strawberries. I don't remember why we were there, I think Tim was looking for a DVD to test his surround sound or something. We looked through the rather small movie collection for a good while before settling on The Patriot, which was, I think, a good choice. However, there was another movie discovered that day: Redlined. Don't be surprised if you've never heard of it, none of us had either. It came out in the post-The Fast and the Furious days, when everyone was still raving about Vin Diesel, you know, before he came out with XXX and everyone realized what a terrible actor he was. We didn't buy Redlined that day, but for some reason Pete couldn't get it off his mind, so he went back and bought it. Eventually, the gang (minus Kevin) assembled at Tim's house to watch the madness unfold. I'll spare you the gruesome details, suffice it to say Redlined is exactly what you'd expect from a low budget Australian movie about fast cars and… well, other fast cars. Actually, the cars had a secondary role, it was really about some dude in a gang war with some other dude. There were cars, but there were also gunfights and lots of pointless dialogue. Actually, they would have been better off with more cars and less plot, because the plot was unbearable and incomprehensible. And yet, we undeniably had a good time watching it. Or rather, we had a good time mocking it. By the end of the movie, my side hurt from laughing so much.
Fast forward to last summer, when the gang rented possibly one of the worst movies ever made: Uncle Sam. Now, I was not present for the first viewing of this movie, but after 5 months of listening to Kevin, Dan and Pete rave about this or that scene, I had a pretty good idea of what to expect. I finally saw it a couple weeks ago, it was far worse than Redlined as far as quality, but it was much funnier. Uncle Sam is a "horror" movie, about a soldier who was horribly burned in the Gulf war wreaking bloody vengeance on "un-American" people, like the teacher who went to Canada during Vietnam, or kids who burned the American flag while desecrating a veteran's grave, or the girl who, uh… smoked pot. Oh, and here's the best part: he is dressed up as, you guessed it, Uncle Sam. This movie was not the least bit scary, it wasn't even that bloody, but it was hilarious. I'm still not sure which was funnier, the over the top ways in which Uncle Sam killed his victims (he hung one kid from a flag pole, another dude was strapped to a fireworks display and burned to a crisp), the pathetic special effects (wires are blatantly obvious when Uncle Sam is yanked backwards… I mean, hit by a cannon ball, near the end), or the unnecessary douchebaggery displayed by most of the characters (like the guy who brags to his girlfriend about how his company rips off the government all the time).
I thought Uncle Sam was as campy and over the top as it got, that is, until I saw Jack Frost. No, not the one with Michael Keaton, I'm talking about the OTHER Jack Frost. The one with the mutant killer snowman. Oh yeah, that's right, I said mutant killer snowman. I have never laughed so hard at senseless murder. There are so many great things in this movie, I couldn't possibly cover them all, so I'll just go over the highlights. Jack Frost is a serial killer on his way to be executed when the truck he's being transported in collides with a truck filled with some kind of "genetic acid". His DNA combines with the snow on the ground and "presto!", one mutant killer snowman. As a human/snow hybrid, Jack is super strong for… some reason. He can also transform into water and flow under doors, up stairs, etc. Oh yeah, he can shoot icicles too. He uses these awesome powers to kill people in creative and funny ways. He chokes one woman with Christmas lights and then bashes her head into a box of glass ornaments multiple times. In another scene, he cleverly knocks a kid over into the path of a slow moving runner sled and the kids head goes flying. And there there's the tub scene. Picture the naked chick from the first American Pie movie taking a bath. Jack Frost then flows up the side of the tub into the water. She starts to complain about the water being cold, and then it freezes around her. Her eyes widen in terror as Jack Frost slowly rises from the tub, grabs her in his big, fake snow arms… and rapes her. Yes, the snowman rapes her with his carrot nose. You have to see it, it's the funniest fucking thing in the world, words cannot do that scene justice.
Sadly, not all bad movies are good. Some movies are so bad, they're just bad. This is the case with Jack Frost II, the worst movie on the planet. This movie sucks in just about every way possible. It looks like a rejected episode of Saved by the Bell. The camerawork is amateurish, the special effects are worse than the first one, the writing is atrocious, and the plot is far stupider than the plot of its predecessor. It seriously looks like it was written, directed and produced by a bunch of 6th graders. Consider the setting: a tropical island. Wow! A snowman on a tropical island? That's so crazy!! Isn't irony hilarious?? No, it's not. Then there's the jokes. The first Jack Frost had some pretty bad one-liners, but there weren't that many of them so they were sorta funny in a stupid way. Apparently the writers decided that the one liners were so successful in the first movie, they should just use them all the time. This was a mistake. Instead of being sorta funny every now and then, they're friggin annoying all the time. Whenever the characters talk, I just wanna say "shut up you moron, no one thinks you're funny!" And yet, the writing is not the worst part of the movie. Far worse are the special effects, or lack thereof. The effects were hardly "special" in the first movie, in fact, they were terrible. But it was kinda funny that there was no snow anywhere in town except in the foreground of the camera shot. However, in Jack Frost II, there's nothing funny about the fact that you don't actually see anyone die, it always happens off camera. I guess the 6th graders directing this movie hadn't gotten to the "bloodied corpses" unit in their media class.
And yet, it was not special effects that pushed this movie over the edge from "barely tolerable" to "painful to watch". That honor goes to the stupidest plot device in all of American cinema: "improving" the bad guy to give the sequel purpose. In my opinion, if you had a good monster in the first movie, stick with the proven formula instead of trying to come up with something "better". Frequently, directors think "more" is "better". That seems to be what drove this "director"/6th grader to invent "baby" killer snowmen which Jack Frost coughs up for no apparent reason. They are the most annoying things I've ever seen. They wave their little arms, makes stupid baby noises and, on rare occasions, attack people. Except I think they only kill one dude in the whole movie. Basically their only purpose in the movie is to extend the length, and to remind people of Gremlins, a far better movie. Maybe the "director" thought it would improve his "movie"/class-project by association. The point I'm trying to get across here is: DO NOT RENT THIS MOVIE! NOT EVEN IF YOU THINK IT WOULD BE FUNNY TO SEE SOMETHING THIS SHITTY. IT'S NOT FUNNY, IT'S HORRIBLE, TRUST ME.
Again, no rant this week, I tried but it didn't really work out. But I wanted to add something entertaining to the profile, so here it is. I've been thinking about those awful, formulaic cop movies and TV shows a lot recently, and I thought it would be amusing to right my own generic cop movie dialogue. I chose one of the most notorious scenes in cop movies, when the chief confronts the main character about his over the top behaviour. Enjoy.
McDuff walks into the chief's office
McDuff: You wanted to see me?
Chief: You're off the case, McDuff.
McDuff: What? You can't do that! This is my case. I took down that meth lab by myself, you wouldn't even have a case without me.
Chief: Damnit McDuff, that's what I'm talking about, you don't do anything by the book. I never authorized you to hit that lab, but you did it anyway. The bottom line is, you're a loose cannon, that's why no one on the force will ride with you.
McDuff: McDermitt did, before those druggies got to him and left his kids without a father.
Chief: Is that what this is about? You getting revenge on the world for your partner's death? I can't have my best officers spending their time out on the street settling personal vendettas. I've already got the Mayor half-way up my ass, I don't need you "mixing things up" any more.
McDuff: What you and the Lieutenant do on your own time is none of my business sir.
Chief: That's it! Hit the showers, McDuff, you're suspended. I want you badge and your gun, pronto!
McDuff: You can have my badge, but you'll have to pry my gun from my cold dead hands, sir.
Chief: If it was up to me, that's just what I'd do. You're no use to anyone anymore. You're lucky still be on the force at all. Now get the fuck out of my office. Do yourself a favor and take a goddamned vacation, and forget about the case, it'll be a cold day in hell before I let you anywhere near this one.
Whaddaya think? I know, it needs a little work, but I think it's a good start. Now in the spirit of generic-ness (and random-ness), I've compiled a list of generic versions of Dr. Pepper, enjoy!
Dr. Whatever, Dr. Taste, Dr. A+, Dr. Perky, Dr. Shasta, Dr. Slice, Dr. Skipper, Dr. Star, Dr. Joe's, Dr. Becker, Dr. Cheaper, Dr. K, Dr. S, Dr. Lynn, Dr. Riffic, Dr. Smooth, Dr. Check, Dr. Rocket, Dr. Bob, Dr. Thunder, Mr. Pibb, Dr. Shaws, Dr. Extreme
I'm sorry, I can't let this go without making another comment. Dr. Cheaper? Come on, that is the lamest name imaginable, besides Dr. Shaws. Actually, now that I think of it, Dr. Taste is pretty friggin lame too. In fact, they are all lame. And yet, I must confess, Dr. Extreme also sounds pretty friggin sweet. It's a stupid name, and yet cool at the same time. You gotta have some balls to name your soda Dr. Extreme. If it wasn't for the fact that it's a just a rip-off of Dr. Pepper, I would say Dr. Extreme is the best soda name since Surge. Can't you just picture those Surge commercials re-created with Dr. Extreme? Instead of yelling "SUUUUURGE!!!" to start the crazy race, they could yell "DR EXTREEEEEEEME!!!!" and instead of just jumping over furniture and stuff to get to the soda, they can perform "extreme" manuevers. Like one dude can jump out of an airplane, and someone else can do a crazy jump with a motorcycle or something. If I saw a commercial like that, I think it would actually make me want to buy the advertised product. Which is more than I can say for 98% of the commercials out right now.
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No real rant this week, just a sort of discussion built up around one fairly ordinary (if you can call it that) quote by Prof. Morsink. Yeah, it's a bit of a stretch to write a whole paragraph (let alone 3) about this one quote, but I'm really bored, and feeling nostalgic already because I'm going home tomorrow. Besides, this is my profile damnit, and I will do with it as I please! Anywho, on to the non-rant (or not-rant? un-rant? anti-rant? Actually, I think non-rant is best, lets stick with with that).
As I was studing for my Political Ideologies final, I ran across a quote from one of Morsink's lectures that I had jotted down but never posted in my profile. I call it "The Lost Morsink Quote". Coincidently, it's also "The Last Morsink Quote" because my final was today, so I won't be seeing Morsink for quite some time. Before I show you the quote, I'd just like to say a little 'thank you' to Dr. Morsink:
Morsink, you are one crazy bastard, but that's alright, because being crazy rocks. Thanks for providing all this great comedic material, and for making class fun and entertaining. Oh, and thanks for all the learning and so forth... And now, without further ado, I give you, "The Lost/Last Morsink Quote":
"...You could either get a gun and stab the guy giving mass..."
Yup, that's it. Isn't it great though? I like it because it works on so many levels. Like, first of all, you can't stab someone with a gun, unless it has a bayonet or something, but guns don't really have those any more. For another, why would you want to stab somone who's giving mass? That's so random. What were you getting at Morsink? If only I'd written the whole quote. Anyway, so that's, uh, 1... 2........ Um... 2 levels it works on. Ok, so maybe I exaggerated when I said it works on "so many levels", but the fact that it works on more than one is still cool, sort of...
OK gang, the impossible has happened. No, I didn't get a haircut, worse. The porn bots have finally gone too far. One of them has posted an entry in my guestbook. How does that work? It's a computer program! Frequent visitors to my profile will probably recall that I ranted on a similar topic, porn bots visiting my profile, a while ago. At the time, I jokingly said that if pornbots started posting guestbook entries before my friends, heads would roll. I say "jokingly" because I did not expect it to happen, and I had no intention of chopping off anyone's heads, tempting as the thought may be... Anywho, the point is, isn't it weird that something I jokingly predicted actually came to pass? And not only that, but the guestbook entry claims to be from "steph" which is the name of the bot that has been visiting my profile. This strongly points to the action of one person. Is it possible this shadowy character read my profile and got the idea to start posting guesbook entries from it? If so, I'm deeply sorry to anyone who has been or is going to be harrassed by this new form of bot activity, and I'm also deeply creeped out. Who are you, masked pornbot operator? What do you want from me? Do you want me look at your webcam, is that it? I can't do that, I have no money! Please, just leave me in peace. I'm just an ordinary college student with too much time on his hands and no money to spend. I'm of no use to you.
P.S. - To those of you who failed to post a guesbook entry before the porn bot, and I know who you are, I am very dissapointed in you. How could you let a bot be a more engaging person than you are? It's a fucking bot for Christ's sake! Whoever programmed it had to figure out how to make it able to post messages in profiles and then set it loose, all you have to do is go to the profile and type something, anything! It's not rocket science people. Is it that you just don't care enough? Why not? Why you hatin? Where's the luv? If I don't start getting some luv soon, there will be consequenses, BIG consequenses, mark my words. You will rue the day you failed to post a guestbook entry! That's right, I said rue. I just got Shakespearean on yo ass, that's how pissed I am.
Ok, this is not really a rant, it's an e-mail professor Morsink sent to the entire class. I don't have a section for weird e-mails, and I didn't feel like ranting this week, so here it is. And yes, this is a real e-mail, you can't make this stuff up.
you know there was a heck of a lot of wind out there last night. So,
at first I did not think much of it when that wind seem to be in my
bedroom and enveloping me totally. It seemed sort of nice, but then
things got serious. I was lifted up out of my bed and put right out
there in the sky and was held with my back up against the newly remodeled
cupola of BC. And --yes I was stunned also-- I was looking right into
the menacing face of Santa. He snarled at me and would not let me go
until I had added a plus to each grade in Psci.8. He said I had been
too tough in the last round and what was I going to do about it. He
threatended to cut this year's stocking haul into half and more scary
visitations. What could I do with that guy at my throat? So I gave
in and he is now standing looking over my shoulder with his big beard
scratching my neck to make sure I send this email to follow up on the
promise I made last night. So here it is.
Ok, I can't leave it like this, I have to comment. What the fuck was Morsink smoking when he wrote this? Santa came into his room and made him raise everyone's grade? Sounds like a drug induced hallucination to me. And why Santa? We haven't even gotten to Thanksgiving yet. Morsink, you've just crossed the line from mildly eccentric to delightfully mad. Not that I mind, I got a B+ on that test, so this puts me into the A range. Keep the insanity flowing Morsink, we love you for it!
Hey gang, this week I'm going to tackle a very controversial subject: sandals (when I say sandals, I'm including things like Tivas). I fully expect to take some flak for this, so don't be afraid to post angry guest book entries or to send angry e-mails, I'm prepared to take on anything you can dish out.
That being said, lets get right to the point. The last few years have seen the sandal phenomenon skyrocket out of control. They are everywhere now, and everywhere I go, I see people with dirty feet proudly displaying their sockless toes for all the world to see. Now, don't get me wrong, I have nothing against sandals in principle. However there are appropriate and inappropriate times and places to wear them, and I feel that the young people of today do not realize this. The other day I was watching the eclipse with some companions, and I was the only one not wearing sandals. Oh, and did I mention it was about 30 degrees out? Needless to say, they soon began to complain that their feet were cold. Also needless to say, I had little sympathy for said individuals. To their credit, they didn't complain much, but I couldn't help wondering why they were wearing sandals at all. Temperatures have been hovering in the 40's and 50's even in the daytime for the past week, why would people still be wearing sandals at all? Easy; it's the current fashion. Everyone has sandals. Everyone loves them. Everyone wears them without thinking about it. Everyone also goes out and pays in excess of $20 for a two pieces of rubber with straps on them bearing the Nike logo. Everyone except me. I don't have any sandals, because I don't need them. Sneakers work in any weather. What's more, they work in almost any circumstance, be it running, or walking, or playing soccer, which brings me to my next example...
Every summer, I help my mom coach an elementary girls' soccer camp in Maine. No, the little girls don't try to wear sandals to soccer practice (at least, not often), they have expensive cleats for that, though I would find sneakers acceptable if they can't afford cleats. However, the High School aged "Jr. Counselors" that are supposed to be helping to coach frequently show up to practice wearing sandals or, even better, NO FOOTWEAR AT ALL! No matter how much mom or I insist that they at least wear sneakers, they never seem to get the message. They just keep showing up in those goddamned sandals. Of even greater concern is that they influence the girls we are supposed to be coaching. Although most of them are smart enough to wear cleats or sneakers to practice, they wear sandals everywhere else, and can hardly bear to part with them. The problem with this is, there is a no sandal rule at camp, because it's dangerous on the trails. This just makes sense. However, some campers, and even some Jr. counselors DON'T BRING ANYTHING OTHER THAN SANDALS, and cleats. How fucked up is that? Who doesn't even bring sneakers to a SOCCER CAMP in the middle of the woods, where everyone lives in cabins and has to walk on trails to get everywhere? When I try to explain why sandals are dangerous, they just don't get it. They say, "I won't trip, don't worry" or, "That's stupid, I'm not going to stub my toe on a rock when I run down the hill" (they aren't supposed to run either, but try and stop them.) It's really not that difficult of a concept: everyone trips and falls at camp some time or another; everyone takes a bad step every now and then and kicks a rock really hard. It happens to everyone. If you wear sneakers, it's not a problem. If you wear sandals, you could end up with a pretty fucked up big toe. But people are so enamored of their sandals, they fail to take this into account, or to give it proper consideration. We never give in to the sandal freaks; we have their parents come by and drop off sneakers if we have to, and make them wear cleats until that happens, so we've never had a sandal related injury. However, we always have to fight with our campers, and more annoyingly, our Jr. Counselors, over the matter. The Jr. Counselors are the biggest problem. All week I hear them muttering under their breath about the oppressive no sandals policy.
This is what gets me. Not that people wear sandals at stupid times; people are allowed to be occasionally stupid. But to be so attached to a stupid idea that you whine whenever someone stops you from doing the stupid thing, and to preach your stupid indefensible case at every opportunity, is just fucking annoying. Sandal wearing is not a divine right, it is not even sensible, just admit it's nothing more than a senseless fad and we'll all be a lot happier.
Ok, what the hell? Why are porn bots viewing my profile? How does that even work? They're bots, they are just supposed to send me messages inviting me to look at pictures from their hot spring break 3-some on the beach, they aren't supposed to take an interest in my life. For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, take a look at the list of people that have viewed my profile, you may notice a couple sn's with the format supersexysteph## where the "##" is some random 2-digit number. That's a porn bot. It's a program that takes on various numerically generated sn's and uses them to advertise porn sites. I get about 4 or 5 messages from porn bots a day, that's not unusual. What I find odd is that they can look at my profile and follow the link to my SubProfile. Doesn't that strike you as odd? I've also noticed that it's usually this supersexysteph character, though there have been others. I generally delete the logs of porn bot visits, since they aren't real people, but i'm leaving supersexysteph up there as an experiment. So far, 2 variations of the name have visited my site a combined 5 times. I'm trying to see if porn bots actually visit my profile more than some of my friends. Note to friends: if a porn bot is kicking your ass in total # of visits, you aren't stopping by enough. C'mon! Let's kick it up a notch people!
BTW, if porn bots start leaving guestbook entries before some of my buddies do, heads are gonna roll (Dan and Rachael K. are exempt from my wrath, as they have contributed to the guest book already).
Where the hell did Halloween come from? I don't mean historically, we've all heard that lame story about it being the day before All Saint's Day and whatnot, what I wanna know is, where the hell did they get the idea of Trick or Treating? Think about it, why does practically every person in the country buy candy to give away to other people's children under threat of having their property vandalized? And where do these kids get the balls to go to stranger's houses and demand free candy? I'm not saying it isn't a totally awesome holiday, because it is. But seriously, where did it come from? How did it become so universal? Did some kid get his little buddies together 50 years ago and say "hey guys, why don't go around tonight and make people give us candy for free? We'll dress up so they can't identify us, and if they don't give us candy, we'll cover their house in, oh I don't know, toilet paper."? If so, I would like to find that 60 year old man, shake his hand, and give him a fucking truckload of candy corn. So if you're out there, Mr. trick or treating inventor, come on down to Drew university and claim your candy corn filled truck. And please hurry, because it's starting to attract flies...
I wrote this after the Red Sox lost to the Yankees in Game 7 of the 2003 ALCS, after giving up a four run lead. It was pretty much the most devastating thing imaginable for me, and after 2 days of reflection, I wrote this "Manifesto", so named mainly for my own amusement.
Someone just fucking shoot me. The Red Sox have crushed my spirit, again. They ripped out my heart and then plunged me into a volcano, and then my heart spontaneously burst into flames, like that dude in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about because you are living in a cave, the Red Sox lost to the Yankees in game 7 of the ALCS last Thursday after giving up a 3-run lead in the 8th inning. It was the most devastating Red Sox loss since Bill Buckner let a routine ground ball go through his legs in the 1986 World Series. I'm not going to explain the Indiana Jones reference; you'll just have to watch the movie...
As I was saying, I want someone to shoot me because I can't live like this. I haven't felt this shitty since my grandfather died, which reminds me that he was a huge Red Sox fan. The poor guy was a devoted fan for 70 odd years, and they couldn't grant him one World Series victory that whole time. Actually, it's a good thing he's not still alive because I think he would have had a heart attack if he'd seen Thursday's game, and that's no way to die. All of this makes me wonder if, in 60 years, I'll still be waiting for the Sox to win the World Series. Is it sad that this is the most terrifying thing imaginable to me?
No doubt all you non-Sox fans think I'm crazy. After all, what kind of lunatic mopes around and whines incessantly about baseball a full 4 days after his team lost a stupid game? I don't really know if I have a satisfactory answer to this, except to say that there are thousands of other Sox fans across the country feeling the same thing. It's not logical, or reasonable, or sensible; it's visceral. It’s raw emotion and burning passion. It's like a personal relationship with a self-destructive friend or lover, who continually promises to change, and continually breaks your heart by falling back on old habits. Every year, we promise that we won't get hurt again. Every year, we seal ourselves in emotionally and prepare for disappointment. Every year, we are eventually suckered into thinking that we have a chance to make things work again. Every year, we start to believe our relationship might actually go somewhere. Every year, we are inevitably met with pain, disappointment, and more heartache. And every year, we vow: "never again!"
Well not this year. This year is going to be different. Oh sure, it followed the same pattern up to this point. In fact, in almost every respect, this year fit the pattern perfectly. No one expected the Sox to do well. No one was prepared for a team that would capture our imagination like no other, and give us greater hope than we’d had in years. No one thought they’d actually beat the A’s after going down 0-2 in the first playoff round. No one failed to jump on the bandwagon again when they did win. And no one failed to be crushed by heartrending defeat in the end. And yet, still I say, this year is different. We may have lost in game 7, we may have been hurt again, but I refuse to say “never again!” because all in all, this was the best season the Red Sox have had in recent memory.
I’m not saying that just because they made it to the division series. They did that in ’99 too, and I don’t think that year was different than any other year. But this year is different. To anyone that disagrees, I say, look at the team. Look at them in the dugout. Look at them on the field. Look at their shaved heads. This is a team like no other. This is a team that played the game because they love it. This is a team that didn’t just high five each other when they played well; they hugged each other no matter how well they played. This is a team that played with enough heart for every club in major league baseball. This team was what baseball is all about. They could make a movie about this team. If they’d won the World Series, they probably would.
So I am not going to follow the pattern. I’m not going to say “never again” because I would be glad for another season like this, World Series or no World Series. Red Sox fans have reason to be disappointed and heartbroken, but we also have reason to be excited at the prospect of another year like this one. It’s time for Sox fans to drop the “never again” attitude and replace it with something more positive. My suggestion? “Thank you sir, may I have another?”
This was one of my first rants, in fact, it may have been the first. It dates back to my senior year of high school, or maybe earlier. It's not funny at all, unlike most of my other rants. It's more of a "venting" rant. At the time I was in the college application process and life was fairly hectic and unpleasant, which explains the subject matter.
I'd say it's about time for a frank discussion about time. For some people, time is a relentless force of nature, something that cannot be defeated, but must be controlled. These people create schedules and deadlines to rein in time, as if they were time's master. Others see time as an enemy to be conquered. Game shows pit contestants "against the clock" as if they can defeat time itself by simply accomplishing a task before time "runs out" Still others try to pretend that time does not pass for them. They use products to reduce the effects of aging, some even have surgery. Finally, there are those who are in denial. They reminisce about their "glory days" or try to "recapture their youth." Some fantasize about building machines that will allow them to move through time, either to see what is in store for them or to correct a mistake from long ago. Of course, none of these views of time are correct. Time cannot be controlled or defeated. Nor can we escape its effects. Time does not care about your dreams and fantasies. It is a relentless, unyielding force, something that cannot, and never will be altered. I once thought that time itself was my enemy, but time is no one's enemy. Time is part of the fabric of the universe. It is a part of nature. It is not time we must fight, but rather the fools who have tried to master time, those who fear their own mortality. I am not afraid of death, that is in God's hands. But I find my life restrained and regimented by those who would try to make time their bitch. They are so obsessed with their own death that they try to cram as much into life as possible. They want their life to "mean" something. For their vanity the rest must suffer. What do I care if my life has "meaning"? I just want to be happy. I want to hang out with my friends, have a good time every now and then. I don't care about money or power. Yet for the sake of my future happiness, I must prepare for a life in a world ruled by digital clocks, date books, and electronic organizers. Society has decided to wage a fruitless war on time, and I am a draftee, a foot soldier waiting to head out to the front lines. My entire life will be spent on the battlefield, fighting just to survive, and when I inevitably fall dead, I will shake my fist and curse, not at time, but at those who waste the lives of strangers in their pointless bid for immortality.