Klingon Freak Show

Band Names. Get Your Band Names Here!

2011-09-18T19:39:00.000-07:00

I do it. You do it. We all do it. No, not screaming for ice cream; we all like to think up goofy band names. My goal is to compose a definitive list of band names, but I need help from the powers of the interwebs. I'll start, but you are invited to contribute your contributions (?) in the comments below.

Let the rockin' commence. Or whatever your genre of choice does that is equivalent to rockin'.

Inflammation Overload
The Smokin’ Spoons
(I can’t quite recall what the inspirational context for this one was, but I’m confident it was food-related; upon reflection I can see how it could be viewed as a drug reference—use this one only if your band or your fans are into freebasing.)
The Cheese Weasels
(Later that night, Pete was heard saying: “That outfit would give anyone a cheese weasel.”)
Hobo Chic
Madman Chang
The Chicken Kickers
He-Man Salad and the Bloody Muppets
Hangnail
International Footwear
Klingon Freak Show
(Duh—but you’d have to pay me royalties until we’re both served a cease & desist from the Star Trek goons)

Woah ho ho, yeah....

2011-09-13T19:12:00.000-07:00

For the past few months, I've sat and watched this blog get about one hit per week, a whole batch of spam comment notifications that were apparently nuked by Blogger within moments of appearing (thank`ya kindly), and a couple random anonymous comments kindly prodding me for another post. And here it's sat, desolate, the equivalent of an Old West ghost town with only dry winds and tumbleweed to fill the streets. I've made mention a few times in the past that I'll put forth the effort to keep this thing alive, but I think that seems to be what jinxes everything.

What I will say is that blogging is on my mind quite often, but, much like my email habits (the bad ones), I tend to put off writing anything because I feel like I should have something important or worthwhile to say. Somehow I've forgotten that the Internet was invented for the very purpose of filling all those tubes with things that are entertaining, time-wasting, and sometimes downright horrific to fight the good fight against all things productive. Although it was forever ago, I'm pretty sure that's the whole reason I even started this blog. So from now on, I intend to fill it up with stupid, and if anything worthwhile is posted, then it was entirely by accident. Trust me.

REMINDER!

2011-02-08T18:09:00.000-08:00

This is what things have come to.

I Hate It When

2011-02-02T11:17:00.000-08:00

I'm not one for taking part in developing resolutions each year that I know will most likely be abandoned, but I had told myself that I should really start showing a bit more effort with my writing, which I guess would include the blogs. Teaching has kept me busy to the point where I spend my free time doing, well, pretty much nothing. I love doing nothing, but the nothingness gets old after a while. I'm sure there's a Neverending Story joke in here somewhere, but rather than dig for it, I'll link to this picture my friend TR sent earlier today instead.

Anyway, the biggest reason for not writing anything (blogs, emails, stories) is that once I get started, I tend to eat up most of a day, which probably isn't all that good for my job. Prepping for class doesn't take as long as it used to, but I find I keep obsessing over materials, or the specifics of what I want to talk about, or even the errands I have to run outside of class as I travel from one campus to another. My plan of attack so far has been to try and get more organized (usually a good plan regardless), and most of these writing ideas need to come out, even if it's only a little bit at a time. So, my goal (piss on resolutions) is to get in the habit and update more frequently, but most of the posts will probably be relatively short--maybe even tweet-length. At least it will be progress.

I have this fortune to thank for inspiring me.

At first the fortune itself troubled me, but now I'd say I finally

Apparently Jesus Was Against Tipping

2010-10-09T09:02:00.000-07:00

During some of the house-cleaning this past summer, I spent a lot of time going through paper clutter, throwing out a ton of junk, scanning it in for the archives whenever necessary and/or possible. Even though some of the stuff I exhumed brought back interesting memories, a lot of it wasn’t worth saving in a digital reincarnation—regardless of how little storage space it would take. I not only decided to save this one, but I wanted to pass it along.

Quick lead-in: I waited tables for a little over three years back home, and for anyone who doesn’t live under a rock, a server’s income consists largely of gratuity—a.k.a. tips. In the state where I live anyway, it’s legal to pay servers much less than minimum wage because it’s expected gratuity will make up the difference, and from what I recall, I made right about $3 per hour in those days. Aside from those in the know (others who’ve worked in the service industry and realize how much tips mean), most people tend to be pretty average tippers, neither bad nor good. Then there is the broad spectrum of shitty tippers; the people who are either too ignorant to realize the level of their own self-awareness, those who use tipping (or the lack thereof) as a source of sadistic amusement, and then the others who fall somewhere in between. One day, I found this sitting in the tray after a couple customers left.

This was the first time I’d seen one of these, and if you’ve ever received one, you can probably guess my reaction and completely understand how I felt. Here’s what was on the inside.

No, if you do this, let me give you a real tip—stop being an asshole cheapskate under the guise of pious self-righteousness. If there had been some cash accompanying this card—which there wasn’t—I might have chuckled in passing as I crumpled it up and threw it in the trash, but getting this trash in lieu of money was unacceptably rude. To break it down, if you happen to give one of these to a fellow Christian, I’m sorry to inform you that you’re preaching to the choir and actually hurting one of your own by withholding income. If you give it to someone like me, you’re only presenting one more example of how the religious can operate outside the norms of society while claiming some moral high ground based on their elite membership in their secret society.

Here’s the deal; the conversation with these people didn't go above and beyond the typical, “Hi, I’ll be your server,” “We want a big plate of tacos,” and, “Sounds good, enjoy, and here’s your check. Please come again.” There was nothing in the transaction that implied my heathen soul needed saving, unless there was a cue for a secret handshake or nod I missed somewhere in there, but I’m fairly certain that even if I was a fellow believer, my motivation for taking that job was not to collect propaganda freely disbursed at the weekly cult meetings. I think I can confidently speak for anyone who ever has or still does work in the service industry, regardless of whether or not they/we ever enjoyed the work; we didn’t take the job for unsolicited advice or suggestions on how to live our lives, no matter how noble the intention. It’s all about the cash.

I Haz A Plan

2010-09-26T19:51:00.000-07:00

This post is actually appearing in tandem with my other blog, mainly because I haven’t touched either for a while, and this topic is relevant to both. The issue at stake (mmm, steak) right now is my writing; since the beginning of this semester, what little writing I was doing has slowed to a crawl, but I think I’ve figured out a way to get back on that horse, thanks to technology. Thank you, technology horse.

Anyway, after prepping for courses, teaching those courses, and then evaluating students’ work from those courses, the motivation to write has been beaten right out of me. I wallow in shame at my lack of stamina; however, while the flesh is weak, the mind is still strong and willing. Well, willing anyway. Between blogs, new short story ideas, and The Novel, I’ve usually got quite a few narratives bouncing around in my head—so many that I often find myself thinking, Oh crap, what the hell was that idea about that thing that came to me the other day? The irony in this is that I’ve publicly boasted my habit of not jotting anything down, because if it’s a strong enough or good enough idea, then it’ll “stick,” but my brain has lost its stickiness. It’s like one of those window-crawling toys I had as a kid that lasted approximately half a dozen trips down the window before it just bounced off the glass and landed on the floor every time I threw it. No more sticky. Gone.

So I had to dig down into that crispy decrepitude and figure out some way to get past this, uh, this dry spell (ba-dum bum, crash!). After taking a quick inventory of tangible and intangible assets, I’ve devised a plan based on the resulting list which consists of:

6 hours of commute per week (more to come by the end of October),
1 laptop with relatively long battery life,
1 earpiece headphone w/microphone,
1 voice-recognition software application,
1 word processing software application,
1 audio recording software application (should the previous list item crap out on me).

Using my drive as writing time seems inevitable. My collection of podcasts and audio books is dwindling, and lately I’ve noticed my thoughts wandering off from whatever happened to be playing anyway. Focusing those thoughts on talking through my stories should be the ticket for making progress on this stalled creativity, even if I’m doing something as trivial as filling plot holes, talking myself through character profiles, or even dictating stupid blog posts.

Expect progress reports—probably on the other blog. This one will probably be filled with the stupid dictated posts.

The cat looked hungry. It was out of food.

2010-09-11T19:57:00.000-07:00

I was driving slowly down a quiet residential side street earlier this evening and saw someone about a block down cross in front of me to get to his parked car. They were on the other side, yet they waited for me to pass before opening the door. Both my windows were down, and right as I passed him, he ripped quite an impressive fart. There's no way he didn't hear me laughing before he got into his car.

Not that my story has anything to do with anything, except that lately it seems I've been a coincidental witness to some strange things. It's like I somehow turn invisible at the exact moment someone decides to pick their nose, one of those blatant deep digs typically done in private. But no, I get to share in the glory of random sightings that have yet to leave deep emotional scars, but they do leave me wondering: is this just happening to me, or is this widespread, signifying that people are generally becoming ruder?

I live in a relatively small community--a university town with a population that fluctuates at the beginning and end of the school year--so it's not like I'm in L.A. or Manhattan where a guy in a thong and superhero cape rollerblading past would be part of the daily landscape. Besides, someone like that is most likely looking for the attention anyway, whereas the people I'm talking about are doing or discussing things that feel completely unscripted, completely unintentional.

I'm almost ready to accuse myself of being too cynical here, but I have this gut feeling that people are becoming less aware of what's private and what isn't, forcing unwilling spectators to take on the role of audience members in their own personal reality program.

Yeah, I do sound pretty cynical. I also hope I'm wrong.

It was meant to be.

2010-09-10T15:26:00.000-07:00

The world's first Klingon opera.

`Bout time.

Hittin' midgets with a squishy biscuit.

2010-09-06T19:42:00.000-07:00

I made burritos tonight. These burritos were so good that I think they could have ushered in an era of world peace. Kim Jong Il would've eaten these and spent the rest of the night crying on my shoulder as he confessed all of his innermost fears.

Too bad I ate them. Man, they were good.

The semester is in full swing and I didn't get anywhere close to finishing my summer reading list. Or getting any significant writing done. The good news is that things are starting to even out now that classes are underway, I've made progress on my re-read of Tropic of Cancer, and I'm anticipating some writing time in the near future. I picked up some tutoring hours on campus after my classes, and one option open to me at the moment is to write while no one seems to have any major papers due yet, but I don't expect the quiet to hold out. One other option that recently occurred to me is to "write" during my commute between schools.

I teach for two schools right now (it will be three in late October), and I drive about an hour and half, round trip. I've been using my time to either listen to the news or catch up on a backlog of podcasts that have been piling up on me, but I recently recalled that I have voice-recognition software, a microphone headset, and a laptop with almost three hours of battery life. There is absolutely no reason I can't be dictating a few pages a week in transit, except maybe for the fact that I'll look like a blathering idiot to anyone who happens to drive past.

Screw it; I think this will be worth it. Hell, if this works, I may just have to get one of those adapters where I can charge my laptop in the cigarette lighter. Although it may affect my routine of drinking scotch while writing.

Fish beat! boom boom psshhh

2010-08-06T23:16:00.000-07:00

I don't really have anything to say, except that I can't get enough of the dayjoborchestra YouTube channel. I could watch those stupid videos all day. I think I have.

Caution: The majority of their videos contain NSFW language. And apple juice.

"Get off my lawn, cookie beast."

2010-08-01T19:17:00.000-07:00

I rearranged my apartment yesterday, and aside from feeling ridiculously sore from exerting muscles that forgot I had them (harhar), it's colder than a polar bear fart in here. In my old setup, the stereo cabinet was set a foot or two in front of the wall AC unit (with front glass door removed) in order to keep the electronics cool, yet allow the air to circulate through and into the rest of the room. Well, either the circulation through the cabinet was worse than I thought, or my stereo gets so hot that it instantly negated most of the cool air on contact, because I just realized today that my poor little toes are ice cubes--and it's hot outside. I shudder to think how much of a drain that was on my utility bill.

Also, if there's a recessive gene that causes cilantro to taste like soap for some people, I wonder if there's a gene that causes soap to taste like cilantro. That's right, I think of the tough questions so you don't have to.

I'm on a low-fat ranch dressing diet.

2010-07-17T12:00:00.000-07:00

This summer, I've been teaching two sections of a first-year college composition course, and currently I'm reading through a stack of rough drafts for the last paper of the semester. My progress has been slow. No, it's not because of the heat; I wisely placed my desk next to the AC and have been quite comfortable--strategic fan placement has also helped. It wasn't until just a few minutes ago that it dawned on me what the problem could be.

I'm trying to help them while fighting the urge to make them write like me in the process.

Without realizing it, I've been struggling within to keep from marking up drafts with an overabundance of specifics. I sit down to read each paper and am seeing exactly what I think is wrong and implicitly what I would do to fix it--if it was mine. As an instructor, I should have a pretty good grasp on what makes a scholarly, professional-grade paper, but polishing up these drafts to get to that level is not my job; my job is to guide by suggestion so they do the work, so they learn from the experience.

I guess I'm learning something as well, because it's much more of a challenge than I thought to find that fine line between telling them what to do as opposed to pointing out what they've done and nudging them in the right direction. Off the top of my head, there are a couple issues I can see with this.

First, if I give them a diagrammed walk-through on their edits, the papers come back with minimal errors (assuming they followed directions), and everyone passes with flying colors. Great and good, but I question how much would be learned by just following the recipe in order to get done. I can't help but think that the writing in subsequent classes may suffer as a result. Call me a pessimist, but I doubt it would be long before administration starts to investigate why the average grade in my class is so high and then crashes right afterward.

On the other hand, if my comments are too general, then revisions will most likely be minimal due to confusion and/or frustration, and worse yet, no one has learned anything except that writing sucks because it's so hard. And possibly that the instructor is a jerk because he gives bad grades for no seemingly no reason.

I hear seasoned veterans, those teachers who've been in the trenches for a while, say that it takes time to find a routine. They say it gets faster with experience. I'm not saying I don't believe them; I'm just hoping I don't get to the point where I sway too far one way or the other for the sake of speed.

Focus, Pinky!

2010-06-18T10:08:00.000-07:00

This blog, so far, has been a place where I just throw down some random thoughts and then go about my business. I haven't conformed to any sort of structure other than attempts to keep the title as vague or totally unrelated to the actual post as I can, and I really have no plans to change that. A very few posts have been sincere attempts at discussing writing, and I'm afraid that this particular blog may not be the best fit.

I've recently decided to start a new blog dedicated to writing (inspired by Ryan) so that I won't taint the inherent ridiculousness of the Klingon Freak Show. I can't promise to post on a regular basis at the moment, but the chances of frequent posting would probably increase based on feedback. It would be great if anyone felt like visiting--or even better, returning--to join in the discussion. A permanent link to Rather Clueless is in the right-hand column.

Check it out. I've already talked about poop.

BP Blocking Media Access: New Orleans

2010-06-13T08:17:00.000-07:00

At risk of turning this blog into a video dump, I decided I wanted to post this. I haven't been all that vocal about what's going on in that region so far. What can I really say that isn't already being said by, oh, just about everyone else.

Well, this video seems to say it all.

After watching this video, I realized that I can't recall very many times when I so absolutely wanted to see someone get punched right in the fucking mouth as I wanted to see that first "security" guard take a massive right hook and have a little sit down to think about things. Don't get me wrong; I'm all for dealing with the ignorant, even blatant anti-intellectuals, in a hands-off manner. In fact, I avoid them whenever possible. This is different. Someone like this needs to feel a little pain for being so stupid.

Here's my suggestion: it's time to cash in on our predisposed viewing habits AND public outrage, so let's televise these dumbasses getting punched when they act like this. It's obvious we prefer watching harm inflicted on people, whether it's real or simulated, as opposed to any sort of icky nipple slips or taboo sexuality we'd be embarrassed to have to explain to children (I mean, violence comes naturally enough to not require explanation, right?). So we keep the successful yet brain-numbing reality format and have a small group of people compete in a battery of physically demanding courses. The first people to be disqualified get the small fries, like punching this jackass who thinks he can justify his authority to keep people off the beach by saying that it's "the way it is." The winner gets to storm into the office of BP's CEO, Tony Hayward, cameras following behind to give that shaky action look from cop show busts, and punch that asshole right in the mouth for saying, "I'd like my life back," in response to the catastrophic ecological disaster his own company unleashed. There could be multiple seasons of this, because each one would be based upon each asinine statement he's let fly, so there's definitely some earning potential for whoever wants to pick this up and run with it. Of course American will watch it. It would even be the first reality program I'd watch--and that's saying a lot.

Think about it, any of you television moguls out there. It's time for the next logical step in reality programming. Call me.

We are doomed.

2010-05-27T23:36:00.000-07:00

Here's proof.

Crying. Because of a reality show.

To see someone so emotionally invested in a storyline, in a narrative arc, is something I'd trade my left pinkie toe for as a writer (assuming the reaction is due to my work). I'll go so far as to admit that sure, American Idol offers a pseudo-storyline. We* love to rise up as a nation and jeer the delusional and talentless during the initial rounds of auditions--which, by the way, introduced the world to William Hung; a person who is apparently famous despite a distinct lack of talent. You know, like Paris Hilton (too easy). We also love to clear our schedules so we can vote in real time for who stays and who gets the boot.

I get the psychology. It's the same (dis)associative qualities you'd see in a die-hard sports fan, someone who wins when their team wins and loses when they lose. I like to think I can hold a tune once in a while but can also recognize how out of my league I'd be in that crowd. I hate that this video doesn't feel like an atypical response to something that, at base, doesn't amount to much in the grand scheme. Sure, some of the contestants will get the chance at a career and some suits in the music industry will pad their pockets a bit more, but who really gives a shit? Don't tell me; I think I already have a good idea what the answer is.

Call me curmudgeonly (don't call me Shirley), but I'd much rather spend my time watching a movie or series with heartfelt writing and stellar acting. Even if there are elements bordering on outrageous, I want my disbelief to suspend itself without knowledge or effort by me. The transition should be natural.

Based on the very few times I've seen American Idol, not much of it feels natural to me. Maybe that's my problem.

*If you disagree with my view of American Idol, then the "we" means "you." If you agree, then it means "they."

EDIT: The owner of the original video, unsurprisingly, took it down and broke my link. Rather than fire off another rant about general lack of critical analysis, I'll just say that once a video is public, there's a very good chance it will always be public, because someone else has posted it for everyone to see. Welcome to the Internets, noobs.

I like white noise, but this is too much.

2010-05-25T23:53:00.000-07:00

It's Wednesday morning, quarter to two (I don't care what time it says I posted this; it's wrong), and I feel like I need to take a walk. The temperature has gone up these past few days, I'm waiting for my next round of summer classes to kick in, and it just feels like time is standing still. It's driving me crazy.

I think I mentioned earlier that I was going to try fasting, and so it's quite possible this scattered mindset is due to me actually giving it a shot these past couple days. I figured this downtime would be the most trying, because really, I hate to be bored, and I also love to eat. Surprisingly, I've done a little writing, a lot of reading, and hardly any eating--we're talking a couple veggies, a bit of popcorn, and a cup of rice with a can of tuna in about 2.5 days (lots of water and a daily multivitamin), and I can already feel a difference in how my body's responding to, well, everything.

This feeling is what I was looking for. There was a stretch of time back in my late teens when I had to choose between paying the rent or buying groceries. Guess which one took priority. Thanks to my two years of working at McDonald's in high school, though, I was able to work some of my old connections and score a sympathy meal once in a while from the "cool" managers. Still, after graduating at 185lbs. (I'm about 6'2"), I was flirting with 170lbs. at one point. I ate a lot of popcorn, cheap yet filling, and I recall one meal consisting of a coffee cup filled with heated spaghetti sauce with a slice of melted cheese on top--no meat.

Hopefully I won't be in a situation like the one I just described anytime soon; like I mentioned, I have some classes coming up in about a week, so there's some income on the horizon. My main motivation is to revisit these sensations as a way to maybe reawaken some old feelings as well as research for my writing. In fact, this goes to show how scattered my thoughts are in this state; I was going to write a bit here about the writing and about ideas I've got cooking (oh, a punned food reference) in my head. Oh well, I've already written enough for now. I think it may be time for that walk and some fresh air.

Not gonna lie; I'll probably go down the street and pick up a late-night Coke and a candy bar, but splurging a little now will help in the long haul.

A Smorgasbord of WTF

2010-05-12T17:59:00.000-07:00

It's that time again; feast your eyes upon the top ten Google searches which landed people here. I'm fairly certain that exactly none of the people who entered these phrases in the text field were looking for me--not even the poor sap who entered in my friend Ryan's name.

Seriously, cop mustache? What is wrong with you people?

I'm a glutton for gluten.

2010-05-10T22:23:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is our last day of finals, and student concerns/requests are still coming via email. One particular brand of email, I'll admit, is more entertaining than the rest. Here's the basic template:

"OMG, I'm so so sorry I've missed the last few classes, but I've had >insert reference to a vague, yet earth-shattering, life-destroying trauma--most often cited as "personal problems"< at home that I just had to deal with! What did we do for class? Please call me. My number is >digits I don't pay attention to<."

Yes, this is the condensed mad-lib formula from quite a few of the emails this past semester. Honestly, I'm somewhat of a softy when it comes to a student making the effort to let me know they won't be in class, but you'll notice the above example was in the past tense, which usually indicates this effort falls into the "too little, too late" category. Still, I offer them a chance and will typically send a reply reminding them when and where my office hours are, followed closely with an explicit invitation to come see me then. Do they take me up on it? Let's just say that I haven't seen a taker yet, but I wish they'd figure out that it's the best way to work it out; at least it is with me.

I think it's the last bit that kills me. The phone in my office is effectively cosmetic (I mention this on day one), and there's a reason I don't list my personal number on the syllabus, so it stands to reason that I'm not going to call someone who already displays a strong tendency to procrastinate. Receiving calls at any time of the day or night by a panic-stricken student is not something I'm eager to experience. No thank you.

Most of my socks are of an inferior quality.

2010-05-07T00:09:00.000-07:00

I graduated. I graduated and got my foot in the door for some teaching experience, which is great, because now I've got a lead on something that could turn into the job I retire from. Until then, I'm existing, and by existing, I mean getting by with rent and bills on adjunct pay--good for a while, but not the best situation for saving or having any sort of life. Oh wait, I didn't really have a life anyway. That's a relief.

Anyway, I had one of those moments today where something went my way in a big way. I had student health insurance through the health center on campus, and once I graduated and tried to cancel the policy, I was told my transcripts would be sent on to the billing office and to just sit back, ignore the bills, and let the paperwork run its course. Since then, I've been getting statements with a steadily increasing sum printed in the "amount due" box, and the most recent have included friendly notes threatening me with all sorts of spooky credit mojo that would haunt me. They apparently have no idea that I've already been haunted, and the first time is the scariest. Not so much anymore. I finally got tired of it and left a message telling them my name and a reminder that I graduated way back in December, and I seem to recall saying, "Fix this, please," before hanging up.

I received what looked like another bill today, but the envelope felt a bit thin. There was only one sheet showing a lump sum credit and a lovely "$0.00" in the amount due box. Maybe it was only a drop in the bucket, but every little bit helps. And it felt like I'd won the lottery.

My lava lamp is talking to me, and he's quite knowledgeable.

2010-02-18T18:44:00.000-08:00

I don't think I've ever linked to another blog post before. If I have, I simply don't recall doing so, but this one felt necessary to me. It's arguably a little past the freshness date, but recent enough to warrant sharing.

The Atheist Missionary is one of the handful of atheist bloggers I follow (cyber-lurking or -stalking might be more accurate), and he linked an interview with one of those infuriating brands of Kooky Kristians™ who starts off with strained pleasantries and quickly moves into the inevitable and insincere "WHY ARE YOU ATTACKING ME AND NOT LETTING ME SPEAK!?!???!!???" mode of debate. It was so disturbing that I felt the need not only to blog about it, but to comment on his blog as well. I was so passionate that I missed a typo before posting. The horror!

There's a very good chance I'm outing myself to a few people here, and that's assuming there are people who visit this blog outside of the small handful I'm already aware of, but yes sir, I am an Atheist. Boogety-boo. Then again, when asked by my parents a couple years ago what I wanted for Christmas (yes, atheists do use that word), I replied earnestly that I wanted The God Delusion--and got it in hardcover. Yeah, I'm fairly certain most people I know are aware that I'm not too hip on the Gee Oh Dee tip.

Ok, that's a clear sign I need to be done with this post.

His hat said "Show Me Your Tits." It was for special occassions.

2010-02-15T20:20:00.000-08:00

I may have mentioned before that I fancy myself a writer. I am sometimes asked, as I'm sure many writers are, where ideas for stories come from. The reality is that they come from everywhere, but the most recent incident is from a story I was just reading earlier this evening.

I was reading a story in which one of the main characters was upset with the other, and due to the situation he couldn't do anything to react outwardly, so he went into the bathroom and bit his own arm, drawing blood. See, that's one of those strange scenes/occurrences that hit me weird and then my train of thought goes off the tracks.

I start to think about what kind of person would bite their own arm when left with nothing else to do.
I start to wonder what else someone could do in lashing out that would be relatively equal to biting yourself.
I try to imagine what would happen if the character had stayed in the room and bitten the other person's arm instead.
I think about how much it would hurt to bite your own arm until you draw blood.
I wonder if I could bite my own arm that hard.
I consider biting my own arm--then decide against it.
I wonder how much harder you would have to bite to just take out a chunk of your own skin.
I start to think about the zombie movie I watched the other night when the damage ranged from a single bite to people being torn apart screaming.
I wonder why I don't take more notice of the people who receive a single bite and scream at first, but then are ridiculously fine and shooting at the zombie horde with the rest of the survivors--that is, until they either sacrifice themselves or the infected bite turns them into a zombie.
I try to think of ways someone could take a bite out of themselves or someone else without there having to be zombies involved, like in the story I mentioned earlier (mostly because zombies seem to be fighting vampires for the rank of trendiest monster, and I don't want to be a bandwagoner).
I decide that it could probably be done (obviously), but since it hasn't come to me right away, I'll put it on a shelf and if it comes to me eventually, then it comes to me. If the initial image is good enough, it'll come to me.

So that's a short glimpse into what goes on. Nothing too glamorous, I'm sure. Maybe even a bit disappointing. But if you're ever hanging out with a writer and their eyes suddenly sort of go out of focus on you, snap back, and then they act impatient for no apparent reason, they'll probably appreciate it if you'd wrap it up or allow them a gracious retreat, because they're either going to go write or to the toilet. Either way, there's a massive dump about to happen.

Super-size my science; hold the patriotism.

2010-02-11T17:32:00.000-08:00

Posting this video in response to a request about emphasizing climate as opposed to weather.

And by saying "hold the patriotism," I don't mean stop being a patriot, you nutty-nuts who will surely try to label me a gay communist for uttering such a thing (although I'd be willing to bet most people know at least one gay communist without even realizing it). I mean that I don't necessarily see the need for politicizing (accusations of being unpatriotic) during a report about science (climate change). I'd like to think that no matter where you fall in the political spectrum, you can at least acknowledge that the collection of unbiased research on climate change is in everyone's best interests. Let's all take The Science Guy's advice and consult with actual scientists--preferably many of them, as long as they're reputable.

Oh, and please stop laughing triumphantly every time it snows in winter, claiming that the weather (not climate) has proven you know more about climate change than anyone else, ever. Having lived in Iowa all my life, I've seen my share of snow, and I tend to be more annoyed by the extreme cold snaps than the snow--unless we get the sheer amounts that have dropped recently. One thing I did happen to notice during our storm is that the temps didn't drop to anywhere near what they were earlier this season. That prompted me to check some numbers for the nation's capital, where the politics are piling up as high as the snow. Here's what I found:

Feb.6th - Low 25.9 - Mean 29.5 - High 32.2
Feb.7th - Low 18.3 - Mean 24.7 - High 32.5
Feb.8th - Low 21.6 - Mean 27.0 - High 34.5
Feb.9th - Low 24.8 - Mean 29.5 - High 36.9
Average - Low 22.6 - Mean 27.7 - High 34.0

I didn't take the time to factor in wind chill or the "feels like" temps, but that's where it stands. I'm sorry, but even when you average the average, it's not that cold. I even searched around for news reports on the so-called "snowpocalypse," or whatever other buzzwords have been flung about, but I don't recall seeing mention of record low temps mixed in anywhere with the reports of record snowfall. I'm willing to concede that someone who knows a thing or three about meteorology could very well school me here and explain how wrong I am, but I would much rather take their word than, as Rahm Emanuel would say, some fucking retard who's pushing a political agenda. Those people should just grab their shiny red sleds and go tire themselves out on the nearest sledding hill, then warm up with a nice cup of shut the hell up.

Huge herds of migratory poodles are on the move.

2009-11-08T20:14:00.000-08:00

No matter what you think about global warming, the past few days have opened my eyes to just how fickle people are. First, some background: I saw a status on one of the popular social networking sites this last spring from someone complaining about the unseasonably cold temperatures. Understandable, but the thing that caught my eye was the blatant comment that went something along the lines of, "Global warming my ass, dumb motherfuckers!" I recall wanting to respond by asking if they knew the difference between weather and climate, but I held back.

Flash forward to today, well into November and the second consecutive day of 70° temps, and all I've heard concerning the weather is how nice it is and all the fun things people did or are going to do. Well, in all fairness, I've seen a lot of cheers and jeers over the House's health care vote, which is important, but I still find the silence curious. I guess I can assume that a yearlong mild summer is a good thing. In Iowa.

I'm allergic to my hair.

2009-11-01T16:13:00.000-08:00

*blows off huge layer of dust*

Hey there, I'm sitting and waiting for my yummy chicken to cook because I was an idiot and didn't let it thaw completely, so I had to turn the heat down and increase my wait. Now I'm blogging.

I haven't been here for a couple months, and chances are that after this post, I may disappear again for a while. Most of the trials of grad school are behind me now, but I still have classwork and a bit of hoop-jumping to perform for the ringleader (who apparently likes to set the hoops on fire once in a while). All in all, it looks like only a little over a month to go and I'm done, and two months before the lease on my apartment runs out. While wrapping things up, I realized that I'm unconsciously obsessing about the transition, and one of those things is admittedly quite strange in comparison to the big picture; I must plan my meals and budget the food left in my kitchen so that it's all gone by the end of December.

Seriously, I worry about my mental health sometimes.

Cheese isn't a right; it's a privilege.

2009-09-03T09:32:00.000-07:00

i was walking home last night with a friend after our night class, and the route we take cuts through a parking lot located between a rental property and a bar. Partway through the lot, we're interrupted by this piercing scream--the epitome of bloody murder. I flinched and started looking around to see where it came from, but with the acoustics in that area, I couldn't tell exactly. I finally looked up and saw this couple (I suppose you could call them chubby, portly, big-boned, etc.) standing at the railing of the deck, smoking and looking down at us. Apparently it was purely for our benefit. Gee, thanks.

After finding that the source was not someone being repeatedly stabbed in the shadows beside the bar, I turned away and shook my head in disbelief. From above we hear her say, dripping with disdain, "Pussies."

This is a prime example of why I'm torn about college. I can't describe how happy I am that I finally returned to school or how well things have turned out for me since then, but every fall I feel this strange mixture of rage and disappointment at the ignorance displayed by the hordes of returning students. How do you tell a drunk, stupid sow you're more afraid of the prospect that she is a representative of what I think is wrong with the upcoming generations than the fact that she gave us a few seconds of fright from a slasher-film scream? Or should I say, how do you tell her that without stooping to her level?

So after getting home, I decided to take the night off with a movie and headed to the local Hy-Vee in order to pick up some junk food to enhance my viewing pleasure. The conversation at the checkout lifted my spirits.

There's a guy who has worked there for what seems like forever, but I don't see him all that often. When I do, I don't hesitate to head for his register. Here's why, and I should mention that he'd just finished commenting on the previous customer's two boxes of Froot Loops:

Him: "How're you doing, sir? Do you like Froot Loops?"
Me: "I do enjoy Froot Loops once in a while, yes."
Him: "Me too. I always steal some from my little cousin when he eats them."
Me: "Ah, so you're one of those kinda guys."
Him: "No, I don't steal Froot Loops from babies." (pause) "Well, yeah I do, but it's okay, because he's stupid. I say stuff like, 'Hey, good job! You finished all your Froot Loops!'"

At this point the people behind me in line and I are laughing.

Him: "So, you got any plans tonight?" (This may sound strange, but I've never heard him not ask someone this question.)
Me: "Nope. The plan is to not have plans tonight."
Him: "Oh. You're dressed all spiffy, so I thought maybe you'd just come from somewhere or were headed out for the night."

I was dressed in a Dickies shirt, cargo shorts, and grubby work boots.

Me: "Wow, you call this spiffy?"
Him: "What can I say? I'm easily impressed."

That exchange was typical of every single conversation I've had with that guy, and I'm always chuckling about it afterward. Seriously, if there were only two registers open and I had to choose between him and some gorgeous, swimsuit model-type, I'd probably go through his lane. But I'd be craning my neck to see into the next lane.

Trojan horse small.BOG

2009-07-25T10:41:00.000-07:00

Just popping on here to help out with anyone that may be having problems with their iTunes and AVG installs. For those that use only one or neither, you can just let your eyes go unfocused and hum the 1812 Overture for a while.

So, I was scared shitless yesterday when I went to fire up iTunes and my antivirus program, AVG, began screaming at me (not literally) that there were trojan horses oozing out of that directory (again, not literally--although some viruses do cause slight to major oozage). I must have been on one of the first waves of fear-inspired WTF, because googling brought up really only one result; a site I'm unfamiliar with telling me that nothing is wrong here, dude. Needless to say, I was skeptical.

Now that time has passed and people's internets have most likely been hammered by frantic music and antivirus fans, there has been a partial explanation and temporary fix. I suspect Bill Gates has been consulted on damage control, because it seems like his modus operandi. To save time, even though I've been admittedly rather long-winded about this, this guy seems to have summed it up quite effectively and efficiently.

One thing I'll address that I have yet to see; what happens if you're using the free version of AVG, which usually defaults to daily scanning and won't allow skipping directories? This morning, I awoke to find all those pesky files now ignored by the "fix" mentioned above sitting in my virus vault. Well, I threw caution to the wind in the name of science and came up with some yawn-inspiring results. Here's what I did; delete the entries in your virus vault and restart iTunes--Window$ (XP in this case) will just spend a minute reconfiguring iTunes and then start it normally.

Disclaimer: if you follow my advice and it borks your computer, I accept no blame. But I will feel bad. That's the best I can do.

They're more scared of you then you are of them.

2009-07-02T22:26:00.000-07:00

I know I logged in to say something way awesome, but vodka has erased whatever it was. Instead, I'll post this video for Adidas (believe it or not) that I found a couple years ago but just popped up in my memory. It's a bit creepy, but I still like it. I think it's the song that gets me.

Don't Open the Haunted Sour Cream

2009-06-30T22:28:00.001-07:00

For the second time in a week, the mailman (or person, whatever) has put my mail in my neighbor's box. My dad delivers mail an hour's drive away in my hometown. I should have him get to the bottom of this, because I'm sure he knows who is messing this up.

Seriously though, I don't want to complain and possibly cause someone to be reprimanded, but I'm tired of thinking I have no mail only to have my neighbor knock on my door late in the afternoon and hand deliver it. Supposedly there are rigorous tests that need to be passed before one can be trusted as a USPS employee. I would think that reading and recognizing differences in addresses is one of those requirements with not a lot of wiggle room.

Ouch, that snark got a little sharp there at the end. I'm not even in a bad mood.

edit: This was a test of the email posting function I enabled a while ago, and I have to say that (aside from the convenience aspect of not having to log in) it is short of impressive. Maybe it's just something I have to play with.

Plaid can go with stripes if I want them to!

2009-06-18T20:15:00.000-07:00

Yup, the Chinese word to learn is "understand" and gracefully punctuates the fortune which boldly defies the definition. This, on my last day staying here at the farm, seems to be a perfect farewell with which to part ways. I've had a good time; visited with a few friends I rarely see anymore, drove through my old stomping grounds, and felt sad--still not quite sure if it's because things have changed or if they haven't changed enough. After almost two weeks, I'm not feeling right in the brain. In fact, the fortune above may make sense and the breakdown is in my processing of the data. It's official; something is damaged. Not sure vacation is supposed to do that to a person.

I've been toying with the idea of fasting when I return home. Does that make sense? It was a bit of an abrupt change in topic, but that's alright because it is. By fasting, I'm thinking more along the lines of plenty of water, maybe a vitamin pill here and there, but no food. Pretty confident I can last a day, easy, but the real test will come with the dawn of day two. If I can do it, I doubt I'd go past two or three days, but it would be interesting to try it and see. I've gone without eating for quite some time in the past, but I was horribly ill at the time and would like to experience it in good health. Well, by that I mean physical health--we've already established that the mental aspect is questionable. Chances are that I'll completely break down and throw a frozen pizza in the oven, but I'm hoping that my willpower doesn't crumble. Like crumbly crumbs on delicious cake. Mmmm, cake...

Oh, and Ryan started a blog. Read it.

Dangerous at High Speeds

2009-05-26T19:31:00.000-07:00

For the past few weeks, I've considered slapping all sorts of rants and zany posts here, but apparently in the time it takes for me to think of something and actually make it to my computer, I've either forgotten that great thing I had to say or have convinced myself that it wasn't great enough to expend the energy it takes to type it down (channeling a little Mitch Hedberg there). This time I developed an idea as I sat here with nothing better to do, so there was no time to forget it and the guarantee of greatness is null and void.

Since the end of the semester, I've literally been reading far more than I normally do when classes are in session. The main reason: I can read for enjoyment without the need for dissecting the text in preparation for later discussion and/or a critical analysis paper. Believe me, the process is so much faster this way. Anyway, among the list of recently finished books is this year's PEN/O.Henry Prize Stories. As a student and writer, all I've produced so far are short stories (still waiting patiently for the muse to send me inspiration for a novel), and I've decided that I might take a moment to point out something that I take for granted when reading something polished by an editing staff, much less a self-conscious author--continuity.

Say you're sitting with some friends and telling them about something that happened that they just have to hear, but you know they're either going to lose interest or simply not believe you if you can't keep your facts straight. A specific example (and probably most extreme violation) from a class this last semester was a story in which a character was traveling--I won't say where or why for "just in case" purposes. This character began in what I guess would still technically be the Midwest and was headed southeast to end up in a state on the Canadian border. Things unraveled quickly after that.

To make a point and hopefully not appear to be picking on a writing student too harshly, I firmly believe that this person just picked up their keyboard and took off running, never turning back to remind themselves where they'd been, otherwise they couldn't help but notice the gaps in their story that made any attempt at helpful comments nearly impossible. Seriously, it was an unnecessary waste of everyone's time. Granted, this class was a workshop and not the final, nit-picky stages of a publication, but if any of you are emerging (and sometimes even established) writers that have ever cranked out a first draft and handed it over to one or more readers without first reading it yourself, please save yourself the embarrassment and never do it again. I'm sure most people would read this and think, "Well, duh," but this isn't for you. It's for... them.

Shut up is the new black.

2009-04-12T19:44:00.000-07:00

Why do you get out of bed in the morning? Are your reasons selfish or selfless?

What I mean is, I’ve been thinking a lot about motivation lately. As a writer, I know that characters who don’t want anything are dull—the death of a story. Whether or not I choose to reveal the specifics, it’s up to me to determine that drive while making it believable. Put the fictional aspect aside and consider that anything I can dream up for motivating a protagonist or antagonist must have a human element to it. This is why I ask, why do you get out of bed every morning?

I have a hard time answering that question, to be honest. Think about it; people have families, people have jobs, people have school, all manner of responsibilities, but then you have to think about the people that let those responsibilities slip, because apparently they don’t have enough inspiration to keep at it. Or on the flip side, does that mean people who spend years working at the same job are simple-minded, or to be polite, more easily entertained? Maybe they’re biding their time waiting for something better, some plans they’ve secretly made to get out of that rut. Maybe they’re perfectly happy doing what they do and are just waiting to cash in on a sweet retirement package. Maybe they do it because they just think that they’re supposed to.

Take a look at someone who claims to be religious; what are their motivations? Do they live by the tenants of their religion because they fundamentally believe that this is the right way to live, or do they do it because they ultimately want the reward and fear the punishment? Just to be clear, reward and punishment are just sanctions that happen to sit on opposite ends of a spectrum intended to provoke a desired behavior—which makes them basically equal in a wacky, postmodern kinda way.

Getting back on track here, I’ve been accused before of lacking ambition, and a) I’ve come to the conclusion that ambition is another word for motivation with a possibly wider scope, and b) the accusations usually come from someone that has apparently decided my level of motivation is unsatisfactory because it didn’t match theirs. When you get down to it, motivation is relative, and since I sometimes have such a hard time identifying my own, I wonder if how I imagine someone else’s is way off base.

So, why do you get out of bed every morning?

It's unfortunate when an expensive education doesn't take.

2009-03-03T23:40:00.000-08:00

I've been on Facebook since the days when a valid university email address was required. Facebook opened itself up to the world, and my "friend" list grew; I found a lot of people, a lot of them found me, and Facebook kept growing. Recently I was swamped with a sudden flood of requests to be added by people I haven't seen in ten to fifteen years or more. I have to admit, I feel guilty, because many of these people leave me posts or send messages asking what I've been up to and how I've been, and my replies have been scarce, to say the least. Kind of sad, really, but I know that I've changed from the last time they saw me--probably more than I'm even aware of. Sometimes I worry that these people have changed too, or worse yet, maybe some haven't changed at all.

Today, my reasons for being hesitant have been justified, if even only slightly, for being cautious. I witnessed someone I know (in the loosest sense of the word) make one of the most asinine comments I've ever had the displeasure to read.

While I have begun in recent years to develop some strong political opinions, I'm not normally one that looks to share these views unsolicited. I'm actually not going to do much of it now, either, because I'm going to concentrate more on the language than the politics. When I saw a "friend's" status (someone I haven't really talked to since my junior high school years--and we're talking back in 1987-88), I decided that revisiting any sort of friendship with this face from my ancient history is definitely not something I'm interested in. Here's what the status read:

"*name withheld for reasons of taste* wants Barack Obama to FAIL!"

Well, I've come to the conclusion that this person is apparently an idiot, and considering that all the memories I have to go on are from twenty-plus years ago, I'm also wondering whether or not he's changed. From what I recall, this person could throw a tantrum and pout with the best of them, so I suspect I can stop wondering--he hasn't.

This isn't the first provocative statement on the topic from this particular person, and my knee-jerk reaction was to fire a message back with something equally as juvenile, such as, "That's funny, I just spent the last eight years wanting GW to stop failing," but that wouldn't really accomplish anything. My reaction was simply to grant what I assume was his coded wish: I "unfriended" him, because any other action would be a waste of my time and his. Here's my reasoning.

I have always stood by my belief that Bush is/was/always will be a moron, but hear me out, because regardless of your political affiliation, there is a distinct difference here; I have never wished him to outright fail. For example, when I studied abroad, there were people that asked me how I thought the last couple years of Bush's administration would go. My answer usually was, "Well, I have a feeling it's going to get worse before it gets better." Whether or not I was correct is debatable.

Take a look at the language as I mentioned earlier; one statement signifies a sense of hopelessness while at the same time yearning for a change in that momentum, yet the other reveals an attitude toward someone that is not only bitter, but also belies a hidden undertone of fear that this person may not fail. Keep in mind that one observation was made after six years rather than after only a month of performance in the position. I would hope that most people shouldn't need this explained, but an educated adult with a career and family has convinced me that he is unable to grasp these concepts. Even if this came from someone with whom I had shared more history, I would have a hard time taking much they had to say very seriously anymore.

If anyone reading has made it this far--especially those that disagree with my views--and is offended by what I've written, I offer a challenge: convince me that a statement from anyone actively wanting a president to fail is not completely ludicrous and exactly the sort of harmful partisanship that is making politics today so damn ugly (you can use whatever sense of the word "fail" you'd like, and I'm tending to think in terms of any president in general, not necessarily Obama). I won't say it's an impossible task, but the chance of success is fairly minimal.

For those that haven't made it this far, I suppose saying, "Good riddance," is unnecessary.

For those that do agree and are still here; choir, preaching to it, blah blah…

Vacuuming Ants Really is Ineffective

2009-02-01T21:18:00.000-08:00

Once again, I have managed to elude the Super Bowl and its holiest of holies, the Super Bowl commercials. I'd like to say that it's because of my principles, but the real truth is that I just don't care. Yes, the allure of watching men paid to hit each other and the companies that have built a tradition of buying multi-million dollar minutes during the station breaks have failed to entice me. I would be interested to see if the current economic situation has affected the price tags of those commercials, but that's about as far as my curiosity goes.

I've thought about the dilemma of marketing as it relates to my band. I would really like to have as many people as possible listen to us, and becoming financially secure by playing music is something I could live with, but I hate the idea of actively trying to convince people that they need something they could easily live without. What else is marketing, really?

I had a good laugh recently due to bad marketing. This is the banner ad that showed up at the top of a, shall we say, popular social networking site.

They got me wrong on two of three counts; I'm admittedly a few pounds heavier than I was a few years ago, but I'm not gay and am not taking part in the whole dating scene. I'm not too sure I'd be too keen on striking up a relationship with someone over the Internet anyway--gay or straight, skinny or fat.

I should get up early and get to the gym tomorrow. I'm feeling chubby...

Vampires Are the New Black

2009-01-26T15:17:00.000-08:00

At the moment, I'm procrastinating on writing a story, a story that I need to submit tomorrow morning. I have the basic premise, a strong start, and some notes from my last session to remind myself where my train of thought was going, but I just can't seem to feel motivated. I figured that if I wrote an entry here, I might get those ol' creative juices flowing. Considering I just spent five minutes staring at a black screen before even getting this down, I have a feeling this will take some effort--or maybe I can trick myself into falling prey to the muse. My first step will be to consciously create a playlist on iTunes; I have just short of sixty-five days worth of music, consisting of just about any genre you can name, and there's nothing worse than listening to a song or two that gets you slipping into that state of suspended reality only to be bashed over the head with a train wreck of a song. Meh, I'll do that as soon as I finish here. I don't need a soundtrack to rant, or at least today I don't.

I hope to be flooded with inspiration this semester. I'm a graduate assistant at the North American Review, and I have a feeling I'll be reading a lot of the fiction submissions as one of my duties. Now, in one of my rare allusions to the title of a post, I was extremely disappointed by a story that I read the other day. For purposes of privacy and professional ethics, I won't go into details, but this particular story started off beautifully; I was engaged completely. There was a dream-like quality that didn't seem over the top at all, in fact, I feel as if it enhanced the subject matter. All this is going great when, BLAM!, vampires. If you've ever read the NAR, then I'm sure you'll find that there's a marked absence of genre fiction. I blame a lack of the author's ability to research and the recent success of Twilight; a movie I haven't seen and never plan to. Man, I still want to read the story that could have been. Maybe I should write it myself. There we go; my muse can be spite.

Well, I guess I'll wrap this up and start compiling the music necessary to connect my fingers directly to my brain. Deadlines await.

A Local Amatuer

2009-01-14T10:49:00.000-08:00

The semester is now halfway through its first week, or I am halfway through the first week of the semester if you don't care for passive statements. Due to some of last semester carrying over (my fault) and the massive helping my big eyes convinced me to scoop onto my plate this semester, I fear for my sanity once things get rolling. To help ease the pain as I spiral downward, or climb upward, assuming some may consider insanity to be an improvement on my current condition, I have decided to take a moment and once again offer a list of search terms that led a small handful of eccentric people here.

I really don't know what to say about a couple of the above items, except that my first reaction is that I don't think I ever, ever want to meet these people. After a second thought, I realize that some of them might be normal people being zany, but someone searching for a Klingon chandelier is just a little bit too specific for my tastes. Who knows, I may be wrong.

Well, I suppose I should head into the arctic conditions and get to class. I've got band practice tonight, and we're thinking about recording some of our newer songs for an updated demo. If we get some decent results, a couple of them may be posted somewhere; I'll be sure to put a link up here if and when that happens.

Ting-a-ling!

Two Thirds of a Masterpiece is More Than Enough

2008-12-30T19:54:00.000-08:00

I've been back on the farm for six days now, and I can say with certainty that spending a considerable amount of time here is much more enjoyable when one can go outside and sit on the porch with a cup of coffee without the threat of frostbite looming. One positive side-effect is that I've covered at least two thirds of the required reading for one my classes next semester. With two weeks left before the first day of class, I think I can safely say that I'll finish with that and be able to get a head-start on a couple other classes.

I suppose I should change the strings on my bass as well; we had our first show--holy crap!--a little over two weeks ago already. I guess time flies. Anyway, despite my halfhearted attempts at maintenance, the strings are rusting, so they have to go. The gig went very well, perhaps better than we expected, and the turnout was also surprising, considering the forecast blizzard that began in the midst of our first set. It was a learning experience, and now I think we'll really be ready to blast the roof off a place. For anyone reading this that made it, thanks for braving the weather and checking us out. For those that didn't make it, no worries; there will be other opportunities. Oh, I also got a message from Ryan, our guitarist/vocalist, that he started up a new website. Check it out and see what you think. It appears he added "Some Rare Footage" at the bottom of the main page. My bandwidth is only slightly better than dialup out here, but I waited it out and discovered that he posted a clip from one of our practice sessions; a song that pretty much came to life as you hear it there. It seems that we need to go back through some of our recordings and dig out some of those gems for polishing.

I had some things to write here other than just what boils down to a glorified Dear Diary entry. Sitting here in my old stomping grounds, a place I admittedly love to hate, there has been a constant barrage of occurrences that drag me into bouts of sappy sentimentality one minute, and then throw me into fits of rage at my perception of the general stupidity of people. I say "my perception" because there is a sliver of reason as I type this, as well as the realization that throwing everyone into the same category is at the very most untrue, and at the very least unfair. It also makes me look like an elitist snob. This snapshot came from a dynamic banner ad the other day, and I think it hints at how I've been feeling lately: as if I'm being looked down upon in a manner that reveals just how ignorant that person is.

If I have to explain the irony of this ad, then it's time for you to brush up on you're grammar.

I think I'm going to blame it on what I've been reading lately--pure Vonnegut. Between his fiction and non-fiction, there's this air of sadness even in the cheeriest of subjects. For instance, Vonnegut writes often about the need for inclusion in large groups, whether that means family or people that you treat as family--and most people know that family doesn't always treat each other very well. As soon as he makes his point about inclusion, Vonnegut's next essay discusses the suicides of his mother and sister, his father's circumstantial fade into obscurity, his son's mental breakdown and institutionalization, and how much of his own life that has been spent in isolation due to his career. Like I was saying earlier, there's a pendulum swinging to extremes and I find myself yearning to be around people only to find myself turning on my heel and beating the door down as soon as it shuts behind me. Kurt Vonnegut (Jr.) is interesting as hell, but I think this immersion in his writing is definitely affecting me.

Or is that effecting? I'm kidding...

I am beautiful in the water.

2008-12-14T09:13:00.000-08:00

So I was just thinking back on something that happened a while ago and thought I might share the story.

My friends, Pete & Jo, have a son named Sam. They've turned him into a Dr. Who fan at an early age, and it's fun watching him geek out. I mean, how surreal is it to watch a five-year old--the age he was at the time of this story--run around and spout off details about Daleks, sonic screwdrivers, and the TARDIS? Let me tell you, it ranks right up there; almost as high as watching him freak out in his crib wearing the pair of huge green Hulk hands I bought him before he could even walk. He didn't have arms anymore, only shoulders that sprouted foam fists which growled and made smashing noises, but that's really another story altogether.

Anyway, I stopped by one day for some reason or another, and Pete took me upstairs to show me the TARDIS console that he and Sam built out of cardboard boxes, duct tape (of course), and random sciency-looking gadgets from around the house. There's a large amount of custom fabrication in this particular household, and Sam is (was) a five-year old after all, so having something built from spare parts doesn't seem all that out of the ordinary. I think what did it for me was watching him pull levers like mad, screaming about time travel and saving Earth from Daleks, and otherwise displaying an eerie comprehension of themes gleaned from storylines that should be way too complex for someone who had only recently begun spelling his own name legibly.

As I ooo'ed and aahh'ed over his creation, I did what most adults would do to someone Sam's age; I talked down to him. Well, not really down to him--it was more like polite condescension. All I said, with the pure intention of making him feel good about his TARDIS console, was, "Man, Sam, I sure wish I had one of these."

Sam paused to regard me with a strange look on his face. "Whatever," he said.

After a split-second, Pete and I started laughing and turned to head back down the stairs. Pete proclaimed in a tone that rang with both fatherly pride and pity (for me) that I just got dissed by a five-year old.

"Yeah, and I didn't even have a comeback," I said between chuckles. That was the last time I talked down to Sam, come to think of it, but he still punishes me for it by pummeling me with plastic light-sabers.

I think death by titty-twister would be pretty gruesome.

2008-11-30T22:23:00.000-08:00

I can't read anymore. I can't write anymore. However, I can throw out a shameless plug for my band, Insignia77, and our first gig coming up on the 18th of December.

You should come to the show, and bring a friend or fifty. And feel free to save this flyer and distribute it to everyone above and beyond the fifty you bring that night. Also, visit these links for more info, or to hear a song or two beforehand.

Facebook
MySpace
Voodoo Lounge

Well, I had all kinds of insightful gems to share with the handful of people whose strange--and sometimes disturbing--search terms accidentally pointed here, but I'm really tapped out at the moment. Here, have some more shameless promotion.

Photo by Dr. Mitch Strauss

If you made it this far, I probably know you.

Spock Thoughts killed the hamster.

2008-10-26T19:06:00.000-07:00

Seriously.

My Vitreous Humor Hurts

2008-10-19T21:26:00.000-07:00

This happened to me a couple nights ago; true story.

I called the local Chinese restaurant--it's really local because it's only a couple blocks down from me--and ordered one of my favorite meals: sesame chicken. Hey, I usually walk to pick it up when I place an order, but sometimes I feel lazy. Besides, if they have a minimum order for delivery and I fulfill that requirement, then I don't feel guilty in the slightest.

So I'm doing some busy work as I wait for my yummy food, and finally I get a call on my cell. See, the thing here is that I live in an access-controlled complex, so when someone dials my room number out front, my phone rings. The number calling me now is the delivery guy's cell phone. I answer, and despite my efforts, all I really understand is something about my food and what sounds like "a couple minutes" followed by a bit of nervous laughter. I say okay, hang up, and return to what I was doing, because I assumed that he said something about bringing my food in a couple minutes.

A couple minutes later, my phone rings. It's the same number. I pick it up and am greeted with, "Hey, you coming to get your food or what?!?" I didn't have any problem understanding him that time.

So here's the deal: if I order delivery, I've entered into an agreement that my food will be brought to my door, not the sidewalk outside my building. I've also decided that I don't appreciate being yelled at by the delivery guy. In anticipation of the possibility of being banned from this Chinese restaurant, I'm entertaining the idea of demonstrating my unwillingness to bow to their will and insist that they do indeed deliver my food all the way up to my doorstep.

Like I said, a worst-case scenario will end with me finding myself banned from ordering if I refuse to play fetch, but on the other hand, there will be no more midnight Chinese, which is probably the healthy alternative overall.

Lemon bars and chocolate milk.

2008-10-07T09:57:00.000-07:00

Hi, my name's Erik. I have a blog. I forgot about it, or at least that's how it would seem to most.

I was reading something recently that made me realize something: I can't remember the last time I've been embarrassed. I mean, there are times when I've probably flushed at something I did, or tried to manufacture a slight of hand to draw attention away from something that could lead to an embarrassing situation, but even then it's been so long since I can honestly say that I was truly, deeply embarrassed, I really have to sit and ponder what it felt like. I've been embarrassed for someone else, but I think that feels different.

Maybe I should pursue situations in which I attempt to be embarrassed, but I think that would actually do the opposite, or at least not result in a product pure enough to be considered. I think true embarrassment comes from the unexpected exposure, the revealing of a secret so hidden, buried, or altogether forgotten, that the discoverer (or discoverers) will find themselves in a position to expose and exploit it for their own purposes. I guess I'm convincing myself now that it all comes down to power, or an interpretation of power that the person embarrassed implicitly grants whoever they let put them in that situation.

And... I'm spent. I believe I shall retreat to caffeinate and regain my strength. I'm so embarrassed.

Achieving the remoterate distinctory possibiliation.

2008-08-17T21:20:00.000-07:00

I am about to put in a movie to pass out to in the first night at my new apartment. Woohoo! I looked in my fridge and found a bottle of V8, butter, hot dogs, bologna, mayonnaise, pickles, leftover hot and sour soup from Chinese delivery, and a bottle of water.

Oh, it appears that I'm already settled in nicely.

Punctuated Progress

2008-08-16T13:45:00.000-07:00

I decided to sit in front of the fan for a few minutes and take a breather, as I'm currently in the process of moving. My new place is seriously going to be a palace compared to where I've been living, and the best part of all is that I won't have roommates anymore. For some odd reason, over the past few years I find that people tend to build non-verbalized expectations around me and then try to punish me when I don't anticipate and fulfill them. In this last case, I began to find that I was in trouble for things I not only wasn't doing, but also the things that I did do. Unfortunately, when I made the effort to discuss the situation and hopefully resolve it, I was met instead with an ultimatum. No, that's not right, it was more of a decree passed down by royalty. In doing so, I was left with an unanswered attack on my character and no discourse that would allow all of us to possibly see the other's perspective, or at the very least, save a friendship.

Ok, in a quick aside, I have to give an overview of this absurd attack on my character. For being asked to do a favor, which I did, I was informed that I was "extremely selfish" with a condescending look. The favor: to cook dinner, which I came through on so far as to buy all the food and prepare it all myself. Why I'm selfish: I didn't ask when they wanted it cooked for them. Yup, that appears to be it, but of course, I wasn't honored with the dignity of any further explanation. When I brought it up again later and denied the accusation, I was scoffed at, which should apparently have convinced me of my guilt. So I said, "Ok, explain to me how that is selfish. Convince me," to which I was answered simply, "It's debatable," and then he walked away. Yes, it was a crushing defeat, as the superior intellect apparently doesn't have to justify flagrant accusations when they know they're right.

For intelligent people that consider themselves "enlightened", I find the behavior unbelievable, and if I weren't so disgusted with them and the situation, I would be a bit ashamed for them. As with many people that I have absolutely no respect for, things basically degraded to the point where I stopped talking to them and we were happy to ignore each other. I'm assuming the oppressive atmosphere that resulted is why they have left for the weekend, allowing me to take my time getting my things together and have probably the most relaxed move I can remember. I will now take this last opportunity to offer them a heartfelt thanks for the disappearing act, because I can't foresee any conversation or light banter in the future. If I were to verbalize anything, it would probably sound more like "Fuck you."

I have to copy/paste what I wrote a while ago in the "About Me" section of my facebook page. It seems to be ringing truer all the time.

When you first met me, I might've seemed aloof and one of the biggest assholes you've ever met. After a while, I might suddenly transform into the nicest guy you've ever met. After a couple years, I'll probably find a way to reattain my original status.

Heh.

--
Disclaimer: After becoming a student of creative writing, one of my roommates gave me permission to use anything from the house as subject matter for my writing. Well, there you go, and thanks again. I'll be sure to remember that.

You mean they sell refried beans and cheese already mixed?!?

2008-08-12T08:12:00.000-07:00

Listen closely, this is important. When it is so cold that you're standing there hugging yourself over the top of your huge coat for warmth yet still don't notice that your shorts have fallen off because your legs are so numb, it's probably a good idea to wear pants.

I just learned this in my dream last night. I wish I could remember the rest of it, because I'm assuming it would have been entertaining. I'm just surprised and happy that I can recall any of it, because my dreams don't like to be remembered. Truly, this is a day for celebrating life. And the pursuit of, uhm, dreams.

Rednecks loves 'em them whip antennea.

2008-08-05T09:32:00.000-07:00

I was actually listening to the radio as I was driving earlier today. This is something I don't normally do, considering I'm not usually in my car long enough to hear more than one song per trip, so I don't even bother listening to the crap that some demographic study has decided would be the most popular and draw the most ad revenue in that particular listening area. As it so happens, I had a couple miles to go, so I turned up the volume and caught a commercial break. The first commercial played was using an emotionally charged narrative of a father describing in a passionate voice how he had "put his son in a salvaged vehicle" that had caused another accident. It was almost disturbing how mad he sounded, as if he would beat down the person he bought the car from if he ever saw him again.

Now, a couple commercials later, there's an ad for an auto repair place, and their angle was that some guy had an accident and they fixed it so that it looked like nothing had ever happened to the car. The background singers from the jingle said something at the end about "What accident?" to which he answers, "Right," in a sly, nudge nudge, wink wink voice.

I hate marketing.

Mr. Impressive. Check him out. No, seriously, check him out.

2008-07-21T22:29:00.000-07:00

I couldn't take the hype any longer and finally braved it to the local movie picture show house to see if I couldn't sneak me a seat to watch the summer's blockbuster.

Yes, I stole that picture, and considering it was from some random guy's blog, I'm assuming he stole it as well. I guess that makes my guilt compounded, or something like that. Anyway, just see this movie, it's worth it. I have to admit, I was never that big a fan of Heath Ledger, and all those public displays of mourning were almost enough to make me dry heave. I know, I know, I sound extremely callous, but think about this; of all the people that wail and moan when the latest darling of the spotlight passes on, how many knew him, and I mean really knew him? Not all that many, would be my guess. Imagine if all those people would be anywhere near as affected by the death of, say, a soldier overseas, or maybe even one of those nameless faces they see semi-regularly during their daily routines. Oh, that's right; those guys are nobodies.

Yeesh, I've apparently got some venom pent up that needed to get out. Sorry, Heath. To quote your last character, "Nothing personal." Hell, I even have to agree with one of my friends who said that he kicked Jack Nicholson's Joker all the way to next week and back. And he did.

So back to the flick, and the rest of this paragraph deals with subject matter from the film, not specific details. If you haven't seen it and would rather not know anything, then skip to the next paragraph now. There was some interesting content that I was watching for after talking to another friend from school who writes movie reviews. He mentioned something about how people of the Republican and/or sick in the head persuasion who think that torture and invasion of privacy are justifiable means to an end are rumbling on the Intertubes about how this movie exemplifies their viewpoint, which it does - sorta. Funny how a movie made in an age when these are extreme hot button topics is actually only using current examples of themes the Batman comics - sorry, graphic novels - have been using for quite some time. Batman has always been one of those characters with questionable morals. Keep in mind, his primary motivation was to kill someone for revenge. It must've been that damn Adam West and his hippified version of Batman from the 60's that turned everyone's memories all saccharine and made them forget that Batman could probably be more accurately defined as an anti-hero, something that isn't necessarily such a good thing to be, whether it's in reference to a person or a country. That, and Adam West makes for a kick ass mayor of Quahog.

I also had to fight the urge multiple times to run out to the snack bar and buy the largest beverage I could in order to throw it as hard as possible at someone's head. As an open letter to the general populace, please refrain from texting, or for that matter, from simply opening your damn cellphones and creating a small spotlight during the movie. I tend to like to sit towards the back, and as much as I try to stay away from people, it never fails that some dirthead is so important that communication with the outside world cannot be put on hold for the two hours of the film that they voluntarily paid to see. How, oh how did humanity suffer through a movie before all these miraculous advances in communications technology? Some days, I think I'd just giggle my ass off to see something that would take it all away, if only for a day or two. All the poor, poor people. I guess it's easy for me to say, sitting here in front of my computer, but at least I'm confident that I'd take the opportunity to tear into this stack of books I've been wanting to read that almost seems to grow faster than I can get through them.

That's it for now. I have no idea why I'm in such a sour mood today, but maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and not feel like snapping at everything. Wish me luck.

He had a cop mustache.

2008-07-18T19:12:00.001-07:00

I'm sure strange things happen on a daily basis to plenty of people, but it just seems sometimes like the simplest things just put a spin on my day and won't get out of my mind. This just happened today. I ran into someone that I haven't talked to in at least 2-3 years. I have to admit, I've seen this person since then, but sometimes I can call upon my ninja talents and blend into the crowd with a puff of smoke, disappearing from view. Unfortunately there was no crowd today, so I was caught in the open and forced to access my conversation files and scan them for categories of chit chat that were polite yet gave the impression that I was pressed for time. Don't get me wrong, he's a nice guy at heart, but also one of those people that can trap you forever once he gets going, much like some of my blog entries. I assume that just about anyone can relate to this type of situation, so take a moment to imagine a person in your life that fits this bill while I construct the setting.

I was in one my favorite haunts, the local coffee shop, listening to music and staring at my laptop as I tried to pry the current story idea from the murky haze in my brain and hoping that caffeine would be the catalyst I needed to make it happen. When I gave up and started packing everything into my man purse to retreat home, I heard someone say, "Erik?" from somewhere close behind me. I was caught. I won't go into the details of the entire conversation, because it was basically just small talk and catching up, but there was one thing at the beginning that just keeps rattling around in my memory, and I had to write it down. One of the first things he said to me as I was shutting down my laptop was, "I didn't know you could type."

For people that know me, this is obviously an absurd observation, as I practically live at my computer desk with (usually) no less than two, sometimes three computers running random processes simultaneously. That, and I'm currently an English grad student in creative writing. But to have someone, especially this day in age, be surprised that someone can type and feel they need to comment on it just spiked my strange-o-meter into the red zone.

I'm currently self-medicating with a cold beer and some metal music, and I think I'll pull through. Please, no donations or gifts.

Cream Cheese, Texas & Farts.

2008-06-28T21:59:00.000-07:00

I recently took a quick peek at some of the stats for my blog, and found an interesting list of the Google search terms people used that have led them here. They are as follows, and in order of how many times they were used (yes, some of them were used more than once):

klingon freak show
freak nipples
buttcakes
"and he kicked him"
freak pain show
freakshow doll
i kicked him in the ding ding
iv caffeine
joan nixt
klingon degree grads
methods to notify next of kin
sleeper has awakened

This may sound strange, but it makes me proud to see such a weird collection of phrases with which I can claim some sort of relationship. I mean, to have a majority of obvious words like "klingon" and "freak" coupled with things like "nipples", "buttcakes", and "methods to notify next of kin" makes me feel a little warm and fuzzy inside. By warm and fuzzy, I mean horrified, but in a good way.

Possibly the most disturbing of that entire list, at least in my opinion, is "klingon degree grads." I just picture some Trekkie geek sitting there and having this grand idea of having a postgraduate degree in Klingon studies. The more I think of it, the more it seems possible, and I shit myself just a little. I mean, a couple years ago someone actually convinced a panel of, uhm, educated people to let them work for a degree in air guitar. I guess anything's possible.

I actually feel a little bad for my friend, Joan, because she's an awesome musician, and it doesn't seem right somehow for her name to be in that list. Oh well, if I know her, she'd probably get a good guffaw out of it.

Just in case, I'll link to her MySpace page again. Click it and listen to her music. Then watch Mr. T talk about 80s fashions.

I hate to say it, but I think Mr. T looks like he's dressed far better than any of those chumps or chumpettes in that video. And he's surprisingly calmer than anyone else too. They must have fed him some sort of tranquilizer before filming. That would explain why he'd even agree to hosting a fashion show in the first place.

Insanity comes in many flavors.

2008-06-13T10:30:00.000-07:00

I mean, seriously, how is anyone in this video not cracking up? I'd never be able to make it through an entire take.

Sorry for this blog turning into a simple video-sharing site. I'll fix that eventually.

Wesley Crusher = Mushy Shorts

2008-05-30T11:16:00.001-07:00

My friend, TR, sent this to our email list today. He accused me of having seen it already. I'm considering taking offense, but first I shall assault you with it.

Now I'm going to run away before I start watching more episodes.

Leave it behind.

2008-05-25T12:39:00.000-07:00

Time slips away from me so easily anymore. Since finals ended, I had such good intentions of updating this blog with all the spare time I was going to have. Was going to have.

Short update:

- The semester went great and I'm looking forward to this fall. I've got story ideas in my head and have finally started writing one now. So far, the direction it's taking is all good. I also sent off two stories for publication. Who knows if they'll be accepted, but it felt good just to send them.

- The band situation is keeping me pretty busy, but as of now it's my main focus for the summer. Things are going better than I ever could have imagined. Seriously. Recordings are in progress and hopefully full songs will be available for public consumption very soon.

- Gas prices suck my ass. Ok, so that's not news, but it's looking like I won't be going anywhere major this summer unless I want to reduce my diet to rice, canned tuna, trail mix and various fruits and veggies. Actually, that doesn't sound all that bad. Hmmm, maybe I'll have to rethink this. Either way, it won't be anytime soon.

- Service Pack 3 for XP is out. Uhm, yeah.

- It's nearly the end of May, and that means some partying is going down at the end of this week.

- The end of days is upon us. The New Kids on the Block have reunited. We must now choose sides for the coming apocalypse. I'm glad I have my chain mail armor and swords.

- I've been terrible about getting in touch with people lately. Well, for as long as I can remember. I haven't forgotten about any of you, and I'll do my best to try and touch base individually.

Here's a video from Tool. Sorry about the sound quality, but you can listen to it from my playlist on the right.

Also, here's a picture that I made in photoshop that was inspired by that song.

I'm going to pack up my laptop and go get some coffee now. The writing calls.

Fish smell.

2008-05-05T20:46:00.000-07:00

So is that a description, or a statement listing an unknown ability? Hmmm.

Apparently I have been summoned to entertain and distract. Here then, is a demonic picture of my roommate's schnoodle (schnauzer + poodle = schnoodle) taken with my recently acquired phone. Heh, the link says that they're easy to train. Further proof that there are exceptions to every rule. This one's name is Oscar, and if you're not Jeremy (his favorite owner) or have food (which also includes making him think you have food), then the chances of getting him to do something are relatively slim. He is a blast though.

Here is a potential dose of cute overload.

And here's an old classic that I just now thought to post. Is it stupid or genius? Is there a way it can be both? Circly square, squarely circle.

Ok, I'm going to curl up and watch this romance film I just rented. It's called Cloverfield and has me quite worried that I will come away disappointed. I just watched Iron Man last Friday, and that's going to be a hard act to follow. Enough with this; on with the viewing.

Doll Face

2008-04-17T15:30:00.000-07:00

So, I haven't been here for a while. I've been here, just too busy to actually acknowledge the blog though. Only a few more weeks, then the freedom of summer will allow me to wander around penniless, wondering what I'm going to do besides biking and reading. Well, I will have the band, so that'll help a lot. Hopefully we'll be able to get some more material down so we can start playing some shows very soon. I'll be posting info when that happens. Notice that I didn't say 'if'.

Ok, the real reason I logged on was to share this video that was sent to me earlier. Holy crap, is it cool. Yeah, I'm a writer too. Marvel at my powers of description.

They watch on, evil, incredibly stupid, enjoying my destruction.

2008-03-26T00:12:00.000-07:00

Yeah, haven't posted for a while; lots of things going on now that Spring Break is over. I meant to post something over the week, but I just never seemed to find the time. I read a lot, some of it for school, but most of it for myself - which was great. I ran a few miles too, and this time I took my camera along to show a bit of what I see on my usual route. It's just under three miles, and the quiet is surprisingly enjoyable. Usually when I run in the gym, I have my iPod blaring to the point where I hear absolutely nothing else.

Anyway, this first one is of my frequent view of the running team. Actually, they're normally running through the ditches and exploring the fields. I just wanted to take the opportunity to get a shot of them when they were both running together. The second shot is of my view that last morning I decided to hit the road. I was pretty pleased with how the rays of light were caught shining down out of the clouds.

I also had to stop for a while on my way back and take a few shots of the old house near where I grew up. I actually remember this house being, well, habitable at least. Not so much anymore. Just about every other building on the acreage has fallen in on itself. I took quite a few pictures, but these are just a couple that I thought stood out. I might put a few others up later.

I guess it's nice to be back to feeling productive again, but I wasn't prepared for how used to taking it easy I'd become over the break. The transition back hasn't been all that smooth for me either. My immediate family and most of my closest friends have already heard the news, but my Monday morning started off with a bang, or a crash-tinkle, or something like that. In a state midway between sleeping and waking, I could have sworn I'd heard something outside at around 7:30-ish. I decided to get up and stumble down the stairs for that first-thing-in-the-morning pee when my roommate almost ran into me coming up the stairs.

"You need to put on some shoes and a coat," he said. Yeah, shit was going down, I could see it in his face. So, I mumbled something about peeing first, then threw on some pants, shoes, and my hoodie and headed outside to see some dude I've never seen before standing awe-struck in front of his Sonoma, the bumper cracked and dented pretty badly. Then I realized that my car was resting with the passenger side wheels on the grass about twenty five feet away from where I'd parked it the day before. Yup, this guy was driving to work on the morning after a heavy frost and hadn't let his windshield warm up enough before turning onto my street to drive straight into the sun. This is what he did to my car.

Now you might see this and think, geeze, that doesn't look so bad. Well, he hit the back of my car, and the front you see here is what happened after he launched it into the utility pole in front of where I live. Yup, smacked the tire hard enough to dent the hubcap, then slid down the panel and door, shearing off my side mirror. Good times. Here's what the back looks like.

Needless to say, when I called my insurance company to report the claim, I could almost hear the smile in the guy's voice after I told him that the other guy hit my parked car. As the story stands right now, I've been told by both my company and the other guy's that my car will most likely be totaled out, but I have to wait for his company's local agent to come here personally to assess the damage and get the ball rolling on my compensation.

The most ironic thing about this is, like I told my dad when I called him to tell him about it, this has been a dream of mine over the years of shitty cars I've owned, but when I finally have a car that runs great, gets good gas mileage, and doesn't burn or leak any oil, it gets totaled. It's just not fair. Boo hoo. I must've manifested the incident too late because I didn't wish for it hard enough when it really mattered.

Oh well, I guess as long as his insurance company doesn't try to screw me, everything will turn out alright. In fact, I've been halfway considering going Alexander Supertramp-style and just not get another car. I have a mountain bike that I could use to get everywhere I need to go, but those winter months might get a little long without an enclosed vehicle. I'll be sure to post the end results when I get this mess all wrapped up. Until then, back to the homework grind...

King of the Road

2008-03-18T11:50:00.000-07:00

Ah, spring break; so far I've drunk superhuman amounts of coffee, drank a few beers with my dad, caught up with a few old friends that I haven't seen in years, ran a few gravel road miles with the dogs, finished one book and read another in two days (for purely recreational enjoyment, finally - I almost forgot what that was like), and I found out that I'm a deranged movie character:

Which Random Cult Movie Character are you?

I am Alex, from "A Clockwork Orange." Real Horrorshow.
Take this quiz!

Whee! A bit of the red, red groovy for me! Oh, the book I just finished was written by one of my current professors, so it feels a bit like brown-nosing. I guess it depends on whether or not I tell him that I bought/read it.

I also bought Into The Wild less than two weeks ago and have seen it no less than four times so far. I think I might be good for a while. And yes, I actually bought it. For those that know me very well, the seemingly simple act of me traveling to a store and purchasing a movie to own holds enormous significance. It doesn't happen often.

Well, the half pot of coffee that I drank this morning is telling me that it's time to hit the bathroom and then go for my run. I was going to skip it today, but tonight I'll be having grilled steaks and other goodies (translated as booze and a few rounds of cards) with Mean Mikey Meatloaf and TR. It snowed yesterday morning and rained last night, but we must invoke Spring by firing up the grill. I take partial blame for Winter hanging on as long as it has, because I have yet to partake of animal flesh that has been prepared over an open flame this year. I know, it's a lot of responsibility to take on, but I feel shame and had to fess up. I'm a stand up kinda guy like that.

Ok, the caffeine appears to be taking over, so I'll wrap this up and go burn off some excess energy before my head asplodes.

My nipples explode with delight!

2008-03-11T23:33:00.000-07:00

Busy, busy, busy, but happy, happy, happy. I'm walking, no floating, around in this state of bliss right now. Today marks the first time I've had a piece of fiction workshopped, and let's just say that I'm feeling like I've won English. Of course there were a few negative things (although a couple of them came from an individual that I and most of the rest of my class don't care to take seriously on anything), but for the most part it went spectacularly. I have to admit, my hands were starting to shake a bit while I sat there trying to contain myself. Yeah, it was like that.

Well, I guess that's all I have. Here's a picture of a monkey thinking.

I actually stole that picture from here.

WTF, damn Beatles already?!?

2008-03-08T18:19:00.000-08:00

Yeah, so I log in to pop a little update on here and I see one of those friggin' Asian lady beetles resting comfortably on my keyboard. It's below freezing, why aren't they all still dead? They're one of the only things I hate about summer. Other than that, I'm nearly frothing at the mouth to unpack all my shorts, get my Birks out, and save socks for the gym. Speaking of Beatles, I just watched Across The Universe a couple weeks ago. Awesome, pure awesome. I'm not someone who's particularly into musicals, but I check one out from time to time. This was a good one, especially if you like the Beatles.

So, getting into the mood I'd originally intended when I started (damn beetle), I'm starting to get into that insanely busy mode that most people associate with grad school. I'm getting by, although it's been a while since I've worked myself into being this tired. I suppose it's not too bad though, considering I've still been having a pretty good time of it. I've also had some things going on behind the scenes that have put me in one of those good moods when you just feel like walking down the street and saying, "Well, hello there, how are you?" to everyone you meet, kinda like one of those cheesy 50s movies when guys tip their hats to strangers and smile a little too big. That sounds excessively sentimental, but I speak the truth.

I also found out that I had a piece sell at the River City Artists' Winter Art Sale. That was cool, and I was flattered to even be asked to contribute in the first place. By the way, Jeffrey, the manager and close friend of mine who organized the event, finally a has page up, and it's about time; I've been waiting to see him do this for a while. Check him out.

I suppose I should wrap this up and start thinking about heading to see another old friend of mine who'll be playing a set at Cup of Joe downtown tonight. Her name is Joan Nixt, and she's got a voice and a half. Check out her myspace page and listen for yourself. Last time I went to watch her, I got drunk; this time I'm going to get obnoxiously over-caffeinated. I think she's a bad influence on me...

Ok, that's that for this one, kids. Squash an Asian lady beetle for me, but don't do it bare-handed, they stink.

And lettuce ruled the day!

2008-02-26T00:03:00.000-08:00

Expectations. We all have them, and people have them of us. What happens when those expectations aren't met? Usually not good things, that's what. I've noticed lately that the relationships I have, both now and in the past, that involve a high level of expectation (from either side) are the shortest lived, and the ones I have with little or no expectation are the most satisfying.

I say this because I've had a fairly surreal last few weeks, and it's giving me that feeling again like everyone around me is going totally whackbat insane. I mean apeshit woogy woogy insane, and I am the eye of the storm. Whodunit? Unrealistic expectations are the culprit for what I'm interpreting as loose grips on reality. Ironically, it's usually the people that swoon and feign some level of insanity that appear outwardly to be the most grounded, and in turn the people that I'm tending to get along with the most bestest. I think that should frighten me. If it weren't for the fact that I've learned to appreciate certain friends that much more because of this recent past, I would be scared out of my britches. Ah ha, I bet you read that quick and thought I said "bitches". Ok, so I guess I am a little crazy.

One new relationship that I have is with the band I've just been officially accepted into as lead vocalist. Because of past experiences, I had imagined that there were mountains of expectations heaped on me in the sense of performance and production. Don't get me wrong, I still think that there are, but not to the level I've been letting myself believe. These guys are content to start from scratch and reinvent themselves as we all get used to working with each other, and this new atmosphere of relief is actually making me feel that much more inspired to dig in and hit the stage as quick as we can, ready to dump my guts out and kick some ass. Oooooo, aw yeah, feel the melodrama.

I suppose the gist of what I'm feeling as I write this is that with the limited time I have at my disposal anymore, I'm getting urges to do things with my free time that feel worthwhile to me. It's amazing some of the stuff I used to do that seems so pointless now that necessity dictates I streamline. These are yet more of the signs as I go telling me that I'm where I need to be and doing what I should be doing.

All hail the sock monkey!

You know what it was? Voodoo!

2008-02-11T22:56:00.000-08:00

I made this a while ago, and I don't really know why I'm putting it up now. I just am.

That is all, goodnight.

I'll bite you harder than Marv Albert!

2008-02-06T23:15:00.000-08:00

It's getting to the point that I have all sorts of things going on in my head all day long, chomping at the bit to get to the end of the day and type it all feverishly down here for all to see, and then my mind draws a complete blank. I've been reading literally almost the entire day, and the process is drawn out by a few minor distractions along the way. Sure, email cries to be checked every once in a while, and I have a bit of data transfer going on right now as I reshuffle things a bit with my digital fortress. I recently bought a Western Digital 1TB external hard drive, and I don't need to tell you that it's damn sexy.

It's true, I'm a storage slut. I live for excess gigabytes, and this baby scratches my itch. The best thing about it is the ethernet hookup, so basically I have it connected to my switching router rather than directly to a computer, and that way each of them can share in the magic! What's better is that I got it at a relatively good deal, so I can fool myself into not feeling guilty about buying it.

Let's see... Oh! I almost forgot to mention that the local movie theater here is having a two night showing of Army of Darkness this weekend. I guarantee, I'm ready to kill some brains cells and then go manually turn the survivors off as I sit and watch that this weekend. I've seen it so many times, brain cells are no longer required - not that they probably were at the first viewing. My friend, Pete, is having "one of those weeks" at work, so it sounds as if he'll be tagging along. I doubt we could drag his brother there on this short notice, which is kinda sad because this used to be one of his all time favorites. Still might be, for all I know. Anyway, it's gonna be a hoot, and a much needed one at that. Hmm, maybe we should take his five year old son with us and introduce him to the legend that is Bruce Campbell.

I suppose I should've had a notion that something wasn't right this week when I looked at my weather program on my linux box. As anyone who either lives in the Midwest or watches news reports has seen, there's been a tad bit of snow coming down these past few days. As opposed to the snowfall we had a couple weeks ago, this one was accompanied by much warmer temps. I don't think it was quite as bad here as we were told to expect, but my linux box seemed to think otherwise, because this is what it had to show me. First off, it was snow on the forecast, but it was warm enough that the little rain image didn't seem that strange. I don't think I've ever seen this program show me a dark gray cloud like this one though. Ominous, isn't it? Well, I've made it over the halfway point this week; just a few more days and I should be free of its shadow. Ah, I get it, it's in homage to Army of Darkness this weekend.

"Okay. The words. Say the words.
KLATOO!... VERATA... uh... Uh...
Necta... uh... Nectar...
Necktie... uh...

KLATOO... VERATA...
NECTtphhhhhhhhhh...

Okay then."

This brand of pain tastes so sweet to me.

2008-01-29T21:50:00.000-08:00

Well, it's looking like I got too busy and won't be able to hit the goal I'd set for myself; to match my posts for 2007 by the end of January. I made a decent show of it though, considering I've made over half. The past two nights had all the intention of writing something, even had a mental outline of some things I wanted to talk about. This was all after doing my reading for the day, so really what happened was me catching up on emails and then spacing out pretty hardcore for the following hour or so.

I was sort of hoping that tonight would find me enjoying a couple martinis, but I procrastinated too long on things I had to do today. That, and my martini buddy, I assume, was understandably hesitant to go out in the subzero temps (made even more butt cold by the 25-30 mile per hour sustained winds) even for one of my tasty homemade drinky treats.

There's something I've noticed about reading all the short fiction I've been blazing through lately; since the days are spent in roughly the same manner, it feels like the semester just started yesterday. I mean, there hasn't been really very many significant events that have made marking time easy for me. However, the head full of stories gives me this ghost impression like I've watched tons of movies and television, or that I've had the sudden resurgence of memory from past lives that belie more activity than has actually taken place. I can't help but wonder if my two years of grad school will all be like this, and then I'll just wake up one day and realize that I have to make a choice between the next step up with a doctorate, or scrounging for a job. On the other hand, I'm starting to suspect that my timing couldn't be better, considering I'll have only one full school year in this Master's program sandwiched between a semester and a summer. That should give me a bit of time in there to stretch my rubber brain. Maybe even get some traveling in. I have been a bit obsessed lately with the idea of a motorcycle; I could see a nice summer road trip on two wheels with a tent and sleeping bag strapped to the back as I disappear until I feel like being found again.

I think maybe I'm just tired and I'm rambling on my keyboard in lieu of someone here in the flesh to puke out my stream of consciousness to.

Poor, poor keyboard.

Holy buttcakes!

2008-01-21T21:43:00.000-08:00

Ah, a three day weekend is drawing to a close, and I'm sighing the sigh that only comes after a good constructive day. I read probably a little over half of what I've been assigned for this next week, and I even had a chance to mess with my linux machine and make some customizations. Sure, sure, super linux geeks would laugh at the fact that I'm giddy over setting up a Samba printer share, but I'm a big fan of small victories.

I now have this strange urge to sign off and keep reading, but at this point, I think everything I read would just end up leaking out my ear. I think I should treat myself to a bloody mary and a movie, then pass the hell out. Yeah...

Death Valley Ballerina

2008-01-20T20:17:00.000-08:00

Ok, my brain is officially 'sploding after this first week of classes. It's okay though, I'll get used to it. I've actually enjoyed all the reading that I'm getting to do now; for once the bulk of my reading is fiction rather than tons and tons of textbook chapters. I can't complain, but I guess I sometimes do anyway.

Speaking of reading, I just came across a book that I haven't read for years, The Alchemist. As with many books I've lost over the years, I loaned it to someone and never got it back. I actually remember who it was in this case, but we lost touch and by the time I remembered it was too late. In this case, the circumstances were also unique in that the book wasn't actually owned by me. I borrowed it from my friend Jo, and luckily she just never asked for it to be returned. Well, I guess if you ever read this Jo, I'm busted and you have dibs on this copy.

Yesterday I was catching up on tons of old email and finally watched a YouTube video that a friend sent to me. I'm a huge Tool fan, and am quite proud of the fact that I've turned him into one as well - all it took was dragging him to a concert. Anyway, he sent this link about how someone took one of their songs and deduced a Fibonacci sequence from it. Eh, maybe so, but it's worth it at least for the song itself and the Hubble images used.

After watching that, I had to follow a related link that highlighted some of Maynard James Keenan's (vocalist for Tool) witticisms. If you're not familiar with his brand of humor, I'm sure this will fall short on you. Watch it if you want, or don't.

Now I'm off to do more of my reading for class, then I've made plans to watch Paris, je t'aime with a friend. I can hardly wait. Now go, find something to do. Unless it's you planning on taking my new book from me, Jo. In that case, you go do something else.

Wrooooong! Do it again!

2008-01-15T21:51:00.000-08:00

A friend of mine sent a shorter version of this out to our email list today, and I nearly shat myself in fear. I think it was a mixture of the message itself and the fact that people actually cheered for it.

No no no no no no no, wrong! Bad Republican! As mentioned later in the video, this is definitely a violation of the separation of church and state. I was raised and have friends that still are Christian, but I'm sorry, in no way should the law of the land be modified in any way shape or form to be representative of some imaginary invisible person's whims, no matter how strongly you believe in him/her. No way. I don't care what religion it is, it's wrong. I mean, my imaginary friend wants me and everyone else to wear mismatching socks, drink tuna fish and pomegranate smoothies, and listen to The Aquabats every day, but I assume that this would go over poorly with the general populace.

You see, I'm doing this thing now where I'm trying fairly hard lately to let people be the way they want to be without having to suffer my unsolicited commentaries - and that goes especially double when it comes to religion. I even had a friend tell me that she considered me an evangelical Atheist*. That wasn't what inspired me to turn this new leaf, but I have a decent memory and that has stuck with me. The way I try to see most things anymore is that you can believe and do whatever you want as long as it doesn't affect me. Changing the Constitution definitely does that. Please oh please oh please don't let people be naive enough to allow something like this to happen, because I think the result will be very, very ugly. And yes, I do realize that before I posted this Romney already won Michigan, where this occurred. As they say, it's not over until the fat lady sings, or Huckabee drops from the race. And no, I don't endorse Romney either.

*I found it interesting that the built in spell-checker gives me a big red underline when I don't capitalize Christian, yet atheist is fine. I realize that the root of the word is Christ, which is a proper noun. In the spirit of equality, I capitalized both anyway.

The storm is brewing.

2008-01-15T00:58:00.000-08:00

To take advantage of this first paragraph, I regret to inform that there are absolutely no pictures of the party I mentioned in my last post. That's ok though, because all they would've shown is drunk people talking and playing Apples to Apples. In fact, we played that game all night. It seemed like we played a round until someone got six cards, dispersed for conversation and to refill drinks, and then came back to play yet another round. By the time we quit, we suspected that we had used all the adjective cards. Of course, we realized this after berating random individuals for not putting the old cards back on the bottom of the stack. I'm sure the alcohol was responsible for our sluggish epiphany - and there was plenty of that to be had. There were gin and tonics, a bottle of rum, bloody marys, Dewars on the rocks, a bottle of some sort of Phillipino rum that smelled like Saki and received reactions varying from passive to outright disgust, and plenty of beer. It was fairly low key and no, there was no need for pictures.

Now back to the present; this is day two of my tour as a grad student, and I'm already starting to feel as if I've infiltrated the ranks of some secret club. It wouldn't be so bad if I actually had earned an undergrad degree in English, or even taken an English class for that matter. No, I had to start in computer science (which doesn't mean computer geeks don't read, it just means that they're not stereotypically a crowd that gets into literary discussions) and then end up in German. Thankfully, the beginning of the semester so far is going to be chock full of reading reading reading. I can handle that. In fact, no offense against any of my German classes or teachers, but it looks like even though I'm going to be busy all the time, this is going to be worlds easier than translating nearly everything I read or write. It's going to be the last half of the semester that's going to get a little hairy, I think, because that's when most of the writing is going to be done. I also learned that us grad students from one of my classes are going to be making a wikipedia literature review. I'll be sure to link that when it comes to fruition.

And speaking of translation, I did actually sign up to audit the translation course that I took as independent study last semester. I was invited to take it if I had time to see how it is in an actual classroom setting. It will be good to keep the German somewhat fresh in my head, considering I still have some books in German that I haven't read yet and would like to be able to tackle them without feeling like I need to relearn the language. Auditing will be nice, because I'm already suspecting that I won't be able to make one of the two weekly times, so I can still get the refresher without stressing about making up work that I miss.

As a closer, the reason I might be missing my class is because of my GA responsibilities. I have a meeting later this week to get more details and iron out a schedule, but the links my professor gave me reveal that I'll be assisting with the Final Thursday Press and Final Thursday Reading Series. I have to say, I am pretty psyched to be a part of this, because I've always meant to attend and never did. Now I have reason, and who knows, maybe I'll even take the opportunity to get in front of the mic and convince some friends of mine that should to do the same.

I need to stop typing now, because things keep coming to my mind, but time is working against me and I have places to be. Time is something I'm finding that is going to be a rare commodity very soon. I need to fully enjoy this week while I can.

Notify next of kin.

2008-01-12T01:02:00.000-08:00

I'm a few minutes away from being picked up to head to a remote acreage a couple hours south of here. It belongs to a couple friends of ours, and it's about to house a postponed New Years/solstice party comprised of a handful of some of my oldest friends. Considering it's an acreage, we will be sufficiently far enough away from civilization, which means that this could end up being a weekend from which legendary tales spring. I understand that there will also be some excellent scenery shots on the way, so I decided to bring my camera. I wasn't going to at first, mainly because it seems that everyone gets rather annoyed when they get their pictures taken in full party mode. I can't say that I blame them. So that said, I doubt I'll have any pictures to document the occasion, but you never know.

I also had to pass this oddity along. I have quite a bit of music and an iPod, so obviously iTunes seems to be the appropriate application to use. Well, I got a sexy new computer a few weeks ago with some funds that had originally been budgeted for other priorities that never came about, so I used them to treat myself. Oh man, it's got an AMD dual core 64 bit processor, a 400GB hard drive, and 3GB of RAM. It's unbelievable how fast this thing is, and believe me, I've been pushing it trying to test its limits. I haven't found them yet.

Oh, sorry, back to what I was saying. So I took the 120GB SATA drive with all my music on it out of my old desktop and dropped it into the new hotness, then changed my iTunes settings accordingly to import all the music into its library. Because of this new level of performance available to me, I've started using the visual setting that scrolls and displays the album covers along with your song listings. As I listen, I'll import an album cover here and there, finding that sometimes iTunes isn't all that accurate. I happened to try to retrieve the album cover for Megadeth's Hidden Treasures, and I got this.

I did a search on this album, and all I found was what appears to be Heavy Eric's website, which I've honestly been a bit too afraid to really dive into. This is just the latest in a long string of borderline surreal things that have popped up these past couple weeks.

I kinda hope it keeps up, because I think I'd be really bored otherwise.

One big holiday.

2008-01-07T23:27:00.000-08:00

I'm one of those people that hates to see Xmas crap get rolled out onto the shelves right after Thanksgiving. It's not that I go looking for it, but over the years it basically jumps out at you whether you're prepared or not. To me, it feels as if we can barely get one holiday out of the way before the marketing strategies shift and we're getting ads for the next holiday's hot items. But now I see that some genius has decided to push the Easter holiday a bit further ahead in the year, and I have to say that I'm just as concerned, but for an entirely different reason. It's not even mid-January yet and I see that the Cadbury Creme Egg is already on the shelves.

Now when it comes to little candy eggs as opposed to lights and carols, I can say without a doubt that the eggs are something I'd much rather endure. In fact, I'm helplessly drawn to them whenever I see them. I'm going to have to muster a superhuman level of control these next couple months, or I could just throw my hands up and just start making the giant, homemade version.

I wish I could find the YouTube video of the old commercial with the two kids at the end; one of them is a chicken and yells, "Thank you, Easter Bunny. BAWK BAWK!" Uh, yeah...

sniff sniff

2008-01-05T21:17:00.000-08:00

I just saw this movie, I think it was almost three weeks ago now, and although the movie itself was great, the soundtrack has just been haunting me. I like a lot of music, and if given the choice, I'll usually pop in some metal. My collection has plenty of classical in it, which I enjoy thoroughly, but this one has just taken me into its jaws since I bought it and is shaking me around like a favorite dog toy.

The movie is Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, and I can't get it out of my head. My favorite song by far is track #9, Meeting Laura. It's just haunting, as is the scene in the movie where it appears. I found a relatively lengthy trailer for it on YouTube, and was surprised to see that it was directed by Tom Tykwer, the same guy who did Lola rennt.

Go rent it, see it. Then find the soundtrack. Trust me.

Cultural difference?

2008-01-05T03:04:00.000-08:00

I was sitting with some of my friends earlier tonight and we decided that there was no other alternative than chinese delivery. A few short minutes later, we were chowing on spicy broccoli, egg rolls, and crab rangoons. A couple hours later we remembered that the fortune cookies still lay on the kitchen table, unmolested. Well, after molesting them, we read our fortunes out loud. My fortune was disturbing, as I don't think it really counts as a fortune, but rather as a testament to chauvinism - or at the very least an invitation to getting punched in the eye. Please, gaze on my fortune and then try to convince me that anyone who would call a wife a 'possesion' isn't a raging redneck.

Classy. At least I now know how to say 'student' in Chinese. And I have lucky numbers for the next lottery ticket I buy. Oh, I get it; when you win the lotto, then you'll have enough money to own a wife. Well now it all makes sense...

Sleep, please release me.

2008-01-01T02:46:00.000-08:00

Gonna sign off on the partying to post this video I just rediscovered. I like it anyway.

Oh yeah, happy new year.

...and he kicked him in the ding ding!

2007-12-31T19:43:00.000-08:00

So it's the last day of the year. I've just been kind of sitting here going through things as I'm "cleaning house", which really just means that I'm digging around in the files on my various computers and trying to organize/sort. I remembered that I was going to post a couple pictures of my winter running, so here they are. Actually, no one was home, so I had to set the timer and just get a picture before my run. I have no proof that I didn't snap these and then retreat to the warmth of the house, so you're going to have to just take my word for it. The first one is simply me, the other one is what I wear when the wind is a bit too biting and I have to transform into the winter ninja.

It's still hard for me to believe that I'm not only voluntarily running miles at a time, but the fact that I'll take off down the road while it's snowing still doesn't seem to register as sane to me. The dogs sure do love it though, and it helps me by giving me something other than the cold to concentrate on. They love to explore as we go, running through ditches and such. I have to make sure I have enough wind to call them when we go past another farmhouse though, because they tend to want to charge into the yard as if it were theirs. At least they heel easily enough. I have a habit of calling them "dummies" all the time, but they catch on to some things pretty quickly. They get all worked up when they see me come out in my gear because they know we're heading down the road and can't wait.

Anyway, I suppose I should finish this up for now and start back in on the geeking. I have a bottle of Gewürztraminer to crack into, a movie and a couple episodes of The Sopranos to watch. That reminds me, my roommates treated me to a dinner celebrating my degree at Martin Brandenburg Restaurant in Waverly, IA. While we were there, they presented me with a gift of a portable cigar case, which is awesome because I've actually smashed a cigar or two on accident. Inside was a limited edition Sopranos cigar, which I also intend to smoke tonight - most likely while watching the episodes I just rented.

I also have a new story idea that popped into my head the other night. I might just start jotting more notes down on that tonight, because if I start getting something together during break, I think I could use it this coming semester. There are also a couple CDs I'd like to give a quick listen to before the night's over. I've got so much to do, I hardly know where to start.

I usually like to imagine my New Year's Eve as sort of setting a theme for the year to come, and this one is going to find me sitting alone at home in comfort doing things that I like to do. I have a feeling that even though this coming year is going to be a busy one, I'm going to be spending most of it in solitude tapping into my creative side a bit more than I'm accustomed to. I can hardly wait. I'm going to kick this year in the ding ding. Hope you kick yours too.

Hey, wasn't that you with the marmelade glaze?

2007-12-26T23:55:00.000-08:00

Ah, almost another month gone by, so it must be time for another post.

I guess I should go back before my previous post and show something from the night before Thanksgiving of this year. I was sitting at my friends place playing cards and drinking a little (lot). Later that night when I decided to go home, I took the usual way and saw a fire off in the distance on the gravel road. It looked large, and I remember thinking that it was unusual to see someone burning ditches at that time of night, regardless of the holiday. For those that may wonder what I'm talking about, farmers sometimes burn their ditches in the late fall so that there will be more room for the snow during winter. This keeps the roads from drifting over and keeps the roads passable. Like I was saying, the fire looked large, but as I drove up to it, I could see that it was much larger than I'd expected; it was a house. I could see that the flames were so big that I was honestly debating whether I should drive in front of it. The drinks told me not to worry, so I pulled up in front and decided to take some pictures. These are just a couple.

I stood there with the camera that I just happened to have in the car, and I remember the time being about 10:30pm and why was it so quiet while a house was burning down not even half a mile away from at least three houses? I sat for about 15 minutes watching the house and for the flashing lights of emergency vehicles as waves of heat and showers of ash surrounded me before I made the decision to continue home. As it turns out, it was an arson fire that the newspaper reported was called in at about 11:02pm, so I'm guessing authorities showed up shortly after I left. I can't help but wonder how many pointed questions I would've been asked had I been found sitting there staring with a camera in my hand. Talk about dodging a bullet.

Now fast forward to the day after my last final, Thursday, December 13th. Thursday afternoons were when we usually had our Kaffeestunde (coffee hour) for our German Club, so we decided to have one last unofficial meeting - a ski trip at Sundown in Dubuque, IA. This is a picture we got some poor slob to take of us before anyone fell. It was a good day; no one was hurt.

As I said, finals were finished and Christmas break is now almost half over. In that time, I've been accepted to graduate school in the English department and have been given not only a tuition waiver but also an assistantship position with a stipend. My unexpected success has caused me to entertain thoughts of possibly going on after the MA for a PhD, but that's something I have time to consider. After that, I auditioned as lead singer for a band that invited me back to work with them. Good things have almost been dropping into my lap these past few weeks. Now it's simply a matter of relaxing and enjoying my vacation before the insanity begins. How have I been doing that? The obvious answer is by eating way too much at my grandmother's house. This is a picture of me and one of my cousins, Kelly. I also have developed some twisted fetish for running on gravel roads in the snow. I don't know why I'm doing this for sure, but the past few months has also seen me transform into a running fanatic. If I had doubts before, the twenty-some pounds I've lost so far has definitely made me reconsider my attitudes. Besides, I feel like a million bucks most of the time now. I thought I might be going out of my mind when I decided to start running in below freezing temps, but there's something about the solitude when you're heading down the road that just can't be beat. Well, if you count running with two farm dogs as solitude anyway. I also attribute it to my Norwegian heritage, so there's got to be some of that Viking berserker insanity running through my veins. Maybe I'll get some pictures up in the next day or two.

Since we're talking about snow and solitude, I wanted to take a minute to talk about the movie I saw a few weeks ago that I'm not sure helped me or hurt me at the time. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I had some hard times relatively recently. If you've ever read the book "Into The Wild", you already know the story behind Chris McCandless. He basically got tired of everything, gave away his money, burned his social security card and took off to wander around the country. As he wandered, he hatched the plot to go and venture into Alaska for a winter just to see if he could do it. During these hard times, I watched the movie based on the book and really started to feel that I wanted to disappear, to erase myself from society. In fact, I have to admit that I had tears running down my face as I watched because it made me think of just how wrong I felt everything was, and how I just wanted to separate myself from it and not belong to anything anymore. It was during this time that I revisited some of the poetry I've written over the years (which not a lot of people know about) and wrote a bit more. It was raw and it was painful, and this movie seemed to echo what I was (am?) feeling. One thing that I had to do was find the soundtrack, and as I suspected, it was by Eddie Vedder. The lyrics for the entire album can be found here, but the songs that seemed to grab my attention were:

No Ceiling

Comes the morning
When I can feel
That there's nothing left to be concealed
Moving on a scene surreal
No, my heart will never
Will never be far from here

Sure as I am breathing
Sure as I'm sad
I'll keep this wisdom in my flesh
I leave here believing more than I had
And there's a reason I'll be
A reason I'll be back

As I walk
The Hemisphere
Got my wish
To up and disappear

I been wounded
I been healed
Now for landing I been
Landing I been cleared

Sure as I'm leaving
Sure as I'm sad
I'll keep this wisdom
In my flesh

I leave here believing
More than I had
This Love has got
No Ceiling

and:

Long Nights

Have no fear
For when I'm alone
I'll be better off than I was before

I've got this light
I'll be around to grow
Who I was before
I cannot recall

Long nights allow me to feel...
I'm falling...I am falling
The lights go out
Let me feel
I'm falling
I am falling safely to the ground
Ah...

I'll take this soul that's inside me now
Like a brand new friend
I'll forever know

I've got this light
And the will to show
I will always be better than before

Long nights allow me to feel...
I'm falling...I am falling
The lights go out
Let me feel
I'm falling
I am falling safely to the ground

I highly recommend watching the movie, but only if you've read the book beforehand. I can't guarantee that it'll affect you like it did me, but then, no one experiences anything the same way. At the very least, maybe it will make you look at yourself and your surroundings and see something in a way you've never seen it before.

Here's the official video for the song Hard Sun that I found on YouTube:

I think it's time for me to fall asleep listening to the dog barking right outside my window at some boogeyman and get ready to run another three miles tomorrow morning. I hope everyone's having a good holiday so far.

The Sleeper Has Awakened!

2007-12-04T21:46:00.000-08:00

I'm back.

I'm better than I ever was. I've torn myself down and been born again out of the ashes. I have a new direction, and I'm not going to stop. I've been informed that my acceptance into grad school is almost official and in the next two years I will find my voice and offer it up into the storm, howling into the wind. I have dug down through the scabs and callous to find who I was, and I'm not going to lose it again. It's changed me physically, and I like it. I'm going to run with it.

Just watch me.

Time: Friend or Foe?

2007-10-14T23:43:00.000-07:00

I decided that I should post something since I haven't for a while - and I very well might not for a while again. I lot has happened these last few weeks. Well, actually not a lot, but the weight of a few actions has created a significant impact on my life, so I think 'a lot' is relevant here.

I'm having some problems coping and have so many questions I've been asking myself throughout that I don't think I know who I am anymore. It's because of this that my post will be on the short side. I'll be the first to admit that my personality can sway from day to day depending on things so trivial as how or in what kind of mood I woke up today. Right now, I find that it's easier to seclude myself a bit more than what is customary. The roller coaster is broken, and I can't control it from diving when I'm in situations where I need to be social. Light bantering and laughter are difficult when the feeling that you could give two shits about most of your conversations and the laughter is hollow and forced sets in.

I guess I just hope that something good will eventually come, but for now I'm going to sit here over my keyboard in my dimly lit fortress. Next to me on my desk is a picture frame full of smiles that has a tendency lately to make me feel gloriously happy and desperately sad in rapid succession. For those few of you friends that do make it here once in a while, this is my vague excuse for having dropped off the radar lately. I'm still here.

I think.

A Day

2007-09-30T18:46:00.000-07:00

10.27.05 - 09.30.07

My New Hero

2007-08-28T20:10:00.000-07:00

For not posting anything in so long, I'm making up for lost time by making two in one day. I hadn't intended for this blog to become somewhat politically edged, but I guess it was only a matter of time. What you are about to hear is Adam Corolla hanging up on Ann Coulter after she called in as a guest on his radio show an hour and a half late, then tries to make it sound like it was their fault. He responds by treating her the way more people should.

Anyone remember a few years ago when people like Dennis Rodman and Marylin Manson popped up everywhere you turned because conservatives kept wailing about how terrible they were? I know they're still around, but how often do you hear from them? Exactly. No more attention, they go away. Ann Coulter is the same way; if more people would just "hang up" and stop fueling the attention whore flames that she most desperately needs, she will also go away. Well, we are talking politics here, so as long as no one in the GOP or some band of extreme right wing nut jobs feel pity for her/him/it and lends their support, she/he/it will fade away. Hopefully.

There is some language that may be offensive to those that have tender little ears and the audio is the same. I'd at least turn it down if you're at work.

You Want Mostly Fluffers and Floaters

2007-08-28T11:54:00.000-07:00

I've just been sitting here in the student union for approximately the past half hour, and I think I experienced a slight bit of brain death. I've only seen a handful of familiar faces from last (spring) semester, and this new batch seems just as socially inept as the last, if not more so. The table next to me has finally ended their phone conversation. No, I'm not one of those cell phone nazis, but when you're sitting in a public place, please refrain from having multiple conversation using the speaker function. I don't want to hear the details while setting up your next doctor's appointment, the conversation between you and the administrator from your child's school, or any other white-knuckle exciting possibilities. I also didn't realize that high heels, raggedy shorts, and camouflage shirts are the 'in' thing this season. I guess when you have an unnaturally dark tan you're entitled to wear whatever you want and think that it looks good. There is one guy sitting a couple tables away that has been reading with iPod earbuds in and periodically peering over his book at me. It may be because I'm doing the same thing to everyone else over my monitor. At least I know he's not typing about me. Heh, someone came up the table next to me and asked the lady if he could use her cell phone - apparently they're friends. What's strange is that she told him that it doesn't get a very good signal unless you go stand "over there". Hmmmm, I suspect shenanigans. Maybe I should've told her that a half an hour ago.

Well, it's already partway into the second week of school, and as you can see, I'm cultivating a healthy level of cynicism. Gah! And the speaker phone lady is back at it. I suppose I should've signed up for more classes to give me something to do other than critique random strangers for no reason. This is my last semester, and things have turned out so that I only have to take the minimum amount of credit hours to qualify as full time. So what do I do? Add 5 more hours on top of that. There is a method to the madness, however; considering I'm moving to San Diego, I decided to audit a beginning-level Spanish course. True, it means more hours of class and homework, but learning a bit of Spanish is probably going to come in a bit more handy than German, no matter what Ron Burgundy says.

Well, speaking of German, I should probably spend the next few minutes looking over some vocabulary for my next class. I hate getting there and having to improvise without knowing what the words mean. It earns me too many strange looks. Hasta próximo tiempo, bis nächstes mal.

Dream Within A Dream

2007-08-19T16:48:00.000-07:00

Val has been moved to San Diego. She's got an apartment she can move into tomorrow, her grad orientation starts tomorrow as well, and the weather there is sunny and warm with relatively no humidity. I've been awake for going on 31 hours now, classes start for me tomorrow, and it's raining outside. If you haven't guessed, I'm not the most excited to be back in Iowa at the mo. I think it's the massive sleep deprivation that's keeping reality from actually permeating my little bubble of vertigo that's gently carrying me through my day.

The trip itself was great; we left on the 11th of this month and I rolled into Cedar Falls this morning at about 8am. Plans to power nap have somehow been thwarted. When my brain is fully functional, I plan on typing some thoughts and memories of the last week for an actual post of substance. Right now I have neither thoughts or memories. I think. I need to crash soon...

Tips for a real macho!

2007-08-07T19:10:00.000-07:00

Ok, haven't been on here for a while, although it seems like just yesterday. Oh man, I just noticed that the first week of August will have passed me by within just a few hours. Time has kind of flown, and I do recall whinging in my last post about how Val wasn't around and it has seemed like forever. Well, she's been back since the 29th of last month, and to continue sounding like a baby, we have to move her out to San Diego this coming Saturday. Much too quickly goes the time. On the other hand, I'm very excited about the trip itself; I've never been to the West Coast before, so getting a feel for what we're moving to will be quite a treat. Considering that we're driving, I suppose I'll have all the time in the world to jot down some thoughts and supply some pictures.

I guess I'd like to share a new found pleasure that I'm surprised took me so long to discover. I went on a couple day-long canoeing trips this summer, both of which burned me to a crisp.
Regardless of the pain, I'm hooked. I think I've awakened the latent river rat within. From casting off, to picnicking on a sand bar, tying your foot to a tree on the bank and floating in the water with a life vest after eating, watching the wildlife that one can't see from a car window on the highway, sipping on beers for most of the day, and finally dragging the canoe from the water and securing it to the roof, I can't think of a better way to spend a lazy Sunday. These are a couple pictures that I took during the second trip. Luckily there was no one else on the river that day besides my friend, Pam, and myself - but most importantly I remembered to bring my camera. Due to the solitude that day, we were treated to quite a few wildlife sightings, and if you'll notice on the left side of this last picture, there's a bald eagle perched on the branch. Thanks to my roomies for letting me borrow their telephoto lens, or I never would've been able to get that shot. I just wish I would've been able to get a better focus, but I almost capsized us simply trying to snap it, so I guess I should consider myself lucky it's even in frame. Click any of the pictures for the full-size view; the eagle is fairly large, just as an FYI.

A piece of advice before I close, which is actually just as much to myself as it is to anyone else; go outside and find some solitude for a few hours once in a while. It's amazing how much something simple like that can recharge the batteries. I'd say that goes especially for anyone like me who spends a bit much of their free time sitting in front of a computer. It's a goal of mine to get used to spending more time in the big, blue room by the time I get to San Diego. Somehow I don't think that will be too much to ask of myself. It'll be even easier when I get that stellar job and can afford my 400 acre ranch. OK, that may be pushing the limits of reality just a bit. Maybe.

This man needs a caffeine IV, stat!!!

2007-07-26T00:03:00.000-07:00

I don't know why this is, but the past few days have seemed quite productive, although I can't really go back and name very many specific events that lead me to believe it. I suppose I will be sooner than later; classes are going to start way too soon for me. On one hand, this is my last semester and I'm more than ready to be done. The sooner the semester starts, the sooner I'll be done. My main beef with not having much time is directly affected by Val's time here before her semester starts. In a few short days she'll be back from Europe, where she's visiting some of our old friends in Klagenfurt, Austria. Here's one of my favorite pictures from our time there together. After what will seem like no time at all, she's going to have to move to California to start on her MFA. Life is not fair sometimes. Oh well, hopefully I'll be busy enough with everything that the rest of the year will fly by. Fingers are crossed (und die Daumen sind gedrückt).

I think the reason that I feel I'm being so productive is because I'm finding myself feeling completely exhausted much earlier than normal. I know, it may not prove that I've actually done anything during the course of a day, but allow me my delusions, please. This is something I'd really like to see change once classes start.

Well, staying true to form, I've totally lost my train of thought on what I was going to write next, so I'll just put in something to watch and get ready to pass out partway through.

Cheers!

Sight-see on your own time, Beelzebub!

2007-07-17T23:38:00.000-07:00

I did something this last Sunday that I haven't done for quite some time now; I went to the church of the Best Buy. Now if you're anything like me, Best Buy isn't one of your favorite places to be. Sure, there are tons of fun gadgets to go and gawk at, but when you know you're not going to buy any of them it doesn't seem quite as enjoyable. I also usually don't care for the people there, customers and employees alike, especially the "Geek Squad"( referred to from now on as the "Idiot Squad" - there is a distinct difference between 'geek' and 'idiot'). Ok, so maybe I'm going a little over the top by bagging on the customers, but in my book they're barely a step above the stereotypical Wal*Mart shopper, though this is a topic for another rant altogether.

Anyway, getting back on track here, my disdain for this place was reinforced by my last visit. I went with a neighbor of mine who admittedly knows a bare minimum about computers, so he hired me to consult him on what to buy and then to set it up for him. The second we stepped into the showcase area, we were attacked by the first salesman. We were lucky, because this one was apparently lower on the food chain and was easily persuaded to leave us in peace. The second one was a bit more assertive and I did end up asking him what the chances were of buying a computer with Window$ XP in place of Vi$ta. He proceeded to tell me with a very stern face that it wasn't a very good idea at all to replace Vi$ta with XP, and that the manufacturer (we were looking at an HP) would probably have AT MOST (he stressed this) about 40% of the hardware drivers, so the machine would "run really bad". In fact, he told me that I could even ask an "Agent" from the "Idiot Squad" if I liked. I do have to agree that there is a good chance that HP's support site may not have very many of the drivers, but I can guarantee that you'll have a better chance finding the drivers on the website of each individual component manufacturer - which he either didn't feel like telling me or just didn't know. My guess is that he didn't know. He also lost any credibility with me when he referenced the "Idiot Squad" as a definitive source of knowledge.

I should mention here that I work as network support for my university, and I've recently rebuilt two (2) Vi$ta machines with XP. All I'll really say about that is that we haven't switched to Vi$ta yet because of security and support reasons. Here's one good reason. Here's another one. I could go on, or you could google it yourself.

After I hinted that I've already done what he just finished advising me against, he changed his tune a bit, but not in the direction you'd think someone would naturally take. Instead of realizing he was dealing with someone who knows a bit about what they were talking about, he proceeded with an alternate tactic to bleed more cash out of a potential sucker; he actually tried to sell me on the idea that such a dangerous stunt could be delegated to the "Idiot Squad" for a couple hundred bucks. Yeah, that's just what I want to do, spend more money for a bunch of hacks to do something I can do myself. No thanks. The funniest part is when we ended up at the counter and an "Agent" was ringing us in. Installing XP was mentioned again, and this guy flat out told me that it can't be done.

Yes, continuity and general communication are apparently not a strong points with these people, much less a firm grasp of factual information - but this is something that I learned a long time ago. I was hired at the very same Best Buy and quit within two weeks. Reason #1; I don't like being a high-pressure salesperson, and they spent more time drilling you on what makes Best Buy the most profit and how to sell it rather than training people on learning about the product and helping people actually find what they need. It's something along the lines of "sell them what you want them to buy, unless they hold out and actually buy what they want". Reason #2; management couldn't tell the difference between their asses and a hole in the ground. Let's put it this way, when I'm expected to remember mundane details about dialup service providers that no one ever buys, I'd like to think that they could keep my hours of availability straight. Hell, the last day I was there I watched him write my hours down, but I was scheduled during my classes regardless. Morons. Anyway, I'm tempted to document my progress and present it to them as proof of their incompetence. That may be over the top, but we'll see.

I guess it doesn't help that I'm grumpy because Val's been gone since early June and doesn't get back from Europe for another twelve days. I suppose the busier I am, the quicker time will pass. I also talked to one of my friends, Duke, who's leaving for grad school in Georgia in a couple weeks. One good way to keep busy until Val gets back is to party with Duke to see him off. I should pass on this link that Duke showed me the other day. This is to a few videos from a New Zealand duo called Flight of the Conchords, and they seem to be like a Kiwi version of Tenacious D. If nothing else, check out Hiphopopotamus vs. Rhymenoceros and The Humans Are Dead.

Ok, I need to get going and try to accomplish something constructive before bed. Ooo, an episode of MST3K might be just what the doctor ordered...

The Flying PeeWee Herman Doll Is Going To Get Me!

2007-07-09T00:05:00.000-07:00

I have made it home, and I am exhausted. For some reason I seem to have cultivated this inhuman ability to ward off hangovers - or at least the painful ones. The only problem I have right now is that in trying to decide whether I should put in something to watch (or more realistically, something to fall asleep to) or continue geeking at my Digital Fortress ©, I'm not really doing either. One constructive thing I've done is to finally link this blog from my old page so that someone besides me might actually know where it's located. I did want to mess around a bit more with the customization features, but I'm so wiped that I just want to lie down in front of the fan and drift off to sleep.

In the next few days I'll try and post a sampling of pictures from this last weekend. Until then, enjoy Nude Recreation Week.

Notify Next of Kin

2007-07-07T13:35:00.000-07:00

The reception starts in about 20 minutes, and I'm heading out the door in (hopefully) less than 5. I was told there are 2 Icehouse kegs and 1 Bud Light. I'm so very afraid...

Beware The Orangutans

2007-07-06T15:27:00.000-07:00

This is the first post of my soon-to-be illustrious blog (read to the tune of sarcasm). I decided to sign on to Blogger as a proactive measure for my impending poverty. I have a website that I pay for elsewhere on a hosting company that is actually quite reasonable, but I'm going to graduate in December and I'd kinda like to start cutting costs now before Uncle Sam starts shoving his hand in my face - more so than he does already. You see, my page is basically a glorified blog that I made myself anyway, so why not just let someone else handle the code and give it to me for free? Right.

On to the first order of business; it's a holiday weekend and I'm sitting in the luxurious serenity that is the farm I grew up on. It constantly amazes me how much I always wanted to leave this place, yet now I can't seem to get enough. It's so far away from everything and everyone, so it's easy to see how I used to strain at my bindings when I was younger and more of a social animal. I've come to a point where I embrace the solitude. This should be an interesting facet of my personality to address when I graduate and move. San Diego is not a small city. Ah well, it'll be an adventure regardless.

So the main reason I've returned to my roots this time is to celebrate the marriage of one of my old high school buddies. I anticipate an award-winning hangover this coming Sunday morning. Shit, I hate being hungover.