Thugs

- Krister

- Thugs

- Krister, are you awake?

- One.

- Krister, wake up.

- There are thugs in here.

This is an excerpt, I think, from a conversation Nick and I had. It was his duty to wake me up so I could drive us to work. It is, of course, important to note that this was after Jeremy's last night in town. And actually, I don't think I'd be hungover at all if it weren't for that fucking Scorpion Bowl.

God damn, that Scorpion Bowl was a lot of liquor in a short amount of time.

A good night, though. Jeremy and I went out and brought out his younger brother, Justin, who is recently 21. It was his first real bar experience. Accordingly, we brought him to Bull Feenys - where J. Biddy (of course) was playing. We then swung by Gritty's. I had the Christmas Ale. If any of y'all can tell me what that tastes like, I'll give you a high five. It was delicious. After we ordered our beers at the secondary bar and returned to the main floor, we discovered a horn band had moved in and was playing Christmas Jingles and everyone was drunkenly singing along, including the house band. After that "Fa la la la la, La la la la" song and Jingle Bells, they left and t'other band continued doing their blues/stoned rock thang.

Jess and Courtney met up with us there, accompanied us to Ri Ra's and then we went up to The Iguana Lounge where she bought us that dastardly Scorpion Bowl.

We made it home. I passed out. Nick woke me up and the conversation at the beginning of this post took place.

Then I came to work. Then I wrote this blog. After that, I don't know what happened.

Sex Sells

I was watching the commercials during the show today and noticed one for Saddleback. When the Saddleback logo came up I thought, "Huh, that's an... interesting choice."

If you want to have a look, the website has a copy of it. It's up at the top. It mostly looks like a mountain. But it also would make Hokusai proud, I think.

Ha!

You go, girl.

A Review

So, the parts of today that weren't at work were, in all actuality, pretty neat! And even work wasn't that bad.

So I got up at four and showered and changed and put on my new shirt(which actually doesn't look much like that comic), and Nick and I took separate vehicles to work for some reason. I guess he'd thought about it and figured we might need to. Turns out we didn't. Sorry, Mother Nature!

I wasn't needed at work. I made one cut and posted a couple of things to the web. Most monkeys are too smart to do that sorta bullshit. But it was OK. Sarah and I got in crazy snow fights. I don't wanna say "snowball" because the snow wouldn't clump, but she won once (sorta, she got lucky) and I won once. I think I won betterly. After all, when she "won" I didn't have to reapply my make-up AND I didn't ruin a starting advantage. She got Nick to trick me to come outside, smacked me with a snowball and tried to knock me over. I still beat her.

So. In the end, I'm better. That's what we all decided. Then we drank toasts to my awesomeness.

After work I walked down to L.L. Bean and bought me some new boots (which are INDEED made for walkin') and some gloves. It was a lot of fun walking around the city in the Nor'Easter. Portland sorta took on this desolate, post-apocalyptic feel. There was virtually no traffic and very few people were out on the streets. I discovered, however, there is one bad thing about beards.

Snotcicles. Yep. Gross.

And it was really only a problem on the walk to L.L. Bean as the wind was right in my face the whole time. But the boots were 70% off! They wound up costing me $18. If you can believe that. And they are a marked improvement over my last pair which was swiftly losing it's sole/soul.

And I ate and caught some of The Eiger Sanction. It wasn't as good as the book. And while I hate that comparison typically, I feel my reasons are sound. In the book, Hemlock is dry, witty and charmingly sociopathic. Clint Eastwood, as Hemlock in the movie, is dry, witless and charmlessly flat. Although, the movie was still somewhat compelling. Hemlock should read more like House. I think the problem is Clint Eastwood has a natural warmth which works against the character of Hemlock. Or maybe Hemlock just isn't supposed to be that likeable. Even as distant and dry and Eastwood is in The Man With No Name trilogy, for instance, there's still something about him that's compelling.

Anyway, I took a nap and went back in to work and proceeded to be primarily useless again. The notable exception being when there was no camera person at all for the first half hour of the show. Then I came in handy.

Then I came home and parked at King Middle School and marched home and ate some chinese food. Now it's 8:30ish and I think I'm gonna chill out for an hour or so and then go to sleep.

IMPORTANT THINGS I SAW TOD

aY,

1. On my trip back from L. L. Bean I saw a chap walking around the city in snowshoes. Unnecessary? Yes, probably. Cool and fun just the same? Most definitely.

2. Not one, not two but THREE people cruisin' the streets of Portland on cross-country skis. And I think they were all the classical style. No herringbone for them!

A pretty decent day.

Good Morning

One of the great things about working in The News for a borderline Yellow Journalist station is that some days you get called into work at five in the morning to report on something that's not new.

Like a Nor'easter in Maine. Not really news.

The drinking game is to take a shot every time you (at home) hear any of the following: "this just in," "breaking news," "here's something you need to know about." Take a shot every other time they say, "this morning" and take two shots for "allegedly" and "massive."

There's more, I'm sure, but I'm tired and have to get up in four hours.

Anyway, I'm sure we'll do a good job pumping up this storm and letting you know that, yep, shitty weather in the middle of this storm.

There you go.

Oh, the memories!

Eh heh heh heh heh heh

Definitely worth checking out the Resume. There's also a link to some pictures from one of Randall's film shoots.

It's all pretty funny. Freshmen year! Ha, those guys were tools.

Dear Anonymous

Anonymous Student Blogger,

Thanks for the comment! It was quite enjoyable to read it, despite my having basically zero clue who you are. As time wears on, you forget the bad parts (and students, even idiotic ones, were not the bad part of being a teacher) and remember the good. I have a lot of fond memories of teaching. It was an important choice for me to make, I think. Maybe even the right one! Which is crazy.

Absolutely crazy.

But what I enjoyed about teaching was the students. It was all you guys that made it worth getting up fucking early and/or (only twice) hung over. It was you guys that made it worth sitting through completely boring and often pointless meetings about meeting state criteria on such and such learning results. It was you guys that made it worth staying late and parents night and all the myriad bullshit and detritus you have to sift through as a teacher.

I wish to express, right here in front of you and whoever is over your shoulder and whatever godhead you might believe in, that all of my students were awesome people. I loved each and every one of my kids. As students, a larger percentage than I wanted were kinda shitty, but as kids you guys were awesome.

The actual in class time was by and large fun. I'll admit I'm horrible at the whole "disciplining" thing and thus a couple of classes were a little wild. A lot wild. Um. A bit ridiculous, really, especially toward the end of the year. BUT when y'all actually shut up for the fifteen seconds it took to explain something it was pretty cool. And I must admit it was part of the wildness that was fun. Only part of it, though.

In the end, the reason I left teaching had nothing to do with any misdeeds or evil enacted by the student population. Even with the meetings and bullshit I was considering teaching for another year. My decision to leave was mine and mine alone. I decided I'm young and have too many irresponsibilities on my shoulders. Reckless shit needs gettin' done, and I feel like I'm the one for it. At least for some of it.

Don't worry, mum, it's nothing too bad. Just road trips and that European thing over the summer and late night painting and spending time working on drawing/writing/guitar instead of grading/lesson planning.

I don't feel that the lifestyle I (currently) want to live coexists peacefully with that of a teacher. Not that teachers don't have fun and aren't great, wonderful people. Many of my favorite people on the planet have been teachers of some stripe. That includes you, Mum. My Dad teaches, albeit in a different context, but I think it counts, Mr. Glennon and Señora Hubka remain heroes of mine. And some day after I've settled down a bit (but not too much, teachers shouldn't be completely lame) maybe I'll teach again.

Who knows?

Teaching is a huge job. Between the actual class time, grading, lesson plans, meetings and sundry you wind up working for most of your life. At least if you're as scattered as I am, you do. Not what I needed. I need a job that doesn't follow me home. I don't want to be as responsible as a teacher needs to be. I'm not a great role model right now. But, I feel like that's a pretty mature decision for myself. Instead of slogging through misery, I'll step into the life I want to live for the time being and embrace it.

But school was an enriching experience. Thanks, former student, for reminding me that even under a pile of shit, there can be nuggets of gold.

Yours,
Señor Rollins

The True Source

So, life imitates art. The "art" in question being those Gatorade ads where people sweat gatorade, of course. I wanted to add an "imitates life" to the end of that first sentence, but I don't think it really happened all that much before

Wisdom

Instead of whiny, pseudo-intellectual pretentions, today's post is a simple case of "See, I told you so" as justified by the ever accurate, apt and hilarious Dinosaur Comics.

In the matter of the first "See, I told you so," I present as evidence: Bread. And I would again remind you, dear reader(s, I think more than mum reads this) that the rollover is often hilarious and enlightening. The "rollover" - for you luddites - is when you hold your mouse over the image and a little text box pops up.

I encourage you to do it with that comic. Go on.

It is also important to note that this comic about one of my most favoritest of foods was published on my 22nd birthday.

And the second "See, i told you so," is about cephalopods. Again, the rollover is important.

Enjoy your newly discovered awe and admiration at my undeniable wisdom, charm and modesty.

The date of this publication means little to me.

Rock on, y'all.

I've been thinking

As lame as it is, philosphy is pretty neat.

I guess my big issue with it, though, is that it's mostly talk and little action. "Man's true nature is this," a philosopher might say and then proceed to not really do much about it. Publishing a book is all well and good, but who knows how permanent literacy is? Well, I'd say it's fairly permanent at this point, but how all-encompassing will it be? Mass literacy is relatively recent - we could probably celebrate it's sesquicentenial nowish - and even then it's only in the "first world."

It's a handy method for disseminating ideas, I guess. But will it always be around? Does that relegate philosophical discussion to the realm of the philosphers? Could it be argued, I wonder, that people like Marx, Chomsky or those guys who made those Utopian Societies here in the states (Oneida, Brook Farm etc.) are philosphers? They're dealing with fundamentals about human life and the way it should be.

I don't know.

I'm not really sure what I'm trying to say.

Although, I've been giving it some thought and I've decided that most governments are too big. Trying to deal with too many people and too many issues inside their borders. It grants too much power to too many people who are, ultimately, fallible. We haven't had a government yet that actually allows for easy changes in the status quo. The rich stay rich, the poor stay poor. And while I'm not sure I completely agree with the idea that a government is just a classed up mob that taxes instead of demanding protection money, I'm not sure I completely disagree with it, either.

Anarchosocialism. It's sounding like a better and better idea to me. Of course, it's not without it's own issues, but I really think that any system that tries to control more than one family is going to lead to oppression, suppression, suffering and poverty which may not be completely just and fair.

Well, I've been letting that foment in my noggin for a while. I think it still needs more BUT so far I'm with it.

Twenty Four

I'm twenty four.

It never fails. Birthdays come and go and I never really feel any older.

I guess I should start investing for my retirement. Kinda weird to think about. My first investment - the... uh... the lottery tickets I bought last night - sort of failed miserably. I figured it was a lottery draw day AND my birthday, it must be some sure sign.

Nope.

There are probably a lot of things I should be doing. I think, however, that anarchy is looking mighty fine right now. I'll just ride this wave out and see what happens, I guess.

Hmm, that sounds more fatalistic or nihilist than I really want. I'm totally working on stuff, drawing and stories and idea fermentation (speaking of which, Grungy Noir's been updated). It's good times. And it's not like I'm not enjoying life, because I certainly am.

What percentage of people live for their hobbies? How many people work at jobs they can tolerate so they can afford to go home and bake or garden or make pottery or sew or draw or write? How many people achieve a worthwhile satisfaction doing that?

I imagine it's quite a few. It seems to me that since forever, even before governments and jobs and corporations etc. (yeah, I know, good list) people did what they had to most of the time and really delighted in the times when they didn't have to gather wood, hunt animals or build houses for the community. Or something.

It's weird that we've developed this overinflated sense of enjoyment for fun activities after a hard day of work. Actually, it's not that weird. The people who did what they had to and then had fun were way more likely to survive and make little babies with similar states of mind than the lazy and self-indulgent.

Anyway, it all makes me think of a rather fitting, profound Futurama quote.

"Its just like the story of the grasshopper and the octopus. All year long the grasshopper kept burying acorns for winter while the octopus mooched off his girlfriend and watched TV. Then the winter came, and the grasshopper died, and the octopus ate all his acorns and also he got a racecar. Is any of this getting through to you?"

Is any of this getting through to you?

Abuelissima

I've been thinking a lot about it and I've decided it's true, Grammy Jo is pretty damn cool.

She doesn't skateboard or listen to hip, young music. She doesn't skydive and I can't imagine her wrestling alligators. But for such a tiny woman she has a massive heart. It's gotta be three or four times the normal sized heart, which you'd think would provoke serious medical problems. In her, though, there just seems to be a preponderance of love. It's staggering, really.

She has seven children, siblings, grandchildren and even great-grandchildren. So just in the family she has 30 or so people she loves. Then there are the myriad friends she's made in her long and hearty life. I believe she loves them all, too. And the dogs! And cats. And now even a bird.

If you need proof that she's been loving to all these people, try remembering all the names at one of her birthday parties. They regularly get bigger attendance than my college graduating class. People coming and going throughout the day, camping out in tents. Traveling from foreign countries, even. Although in all fairness, that's usually her firstborn and company.

All for one little woman. She's tiny. I'm not sure she's five feet tall but she's ridiculously dense with love.

Here are two examples:

In WWII when my Grandfather went off to join the army, she followed him. Wherever he may have been stationed, she worked for the troops. When she first started she was on sandwich duty. It was war time and the country was still pretty desperately poor from the Great Depression, so you can imagine there were pretty heavy rations. My grandmother ignored them all. These were hungry boys! So, she fed them what she felt they needed.

Of course she was caught. So she was pushed down to coffee duty. Where she was only too happy to hand out extra rations of sugar and cream.

Then they put her at the candy shack. Apparently you could only buy candy bars two at a time for a nickel a piece. Of course, when a young soldier came up and said that he and his boys were going out for a tough mission or whatever it is army boys do, and they were going to be desperately hard up for sweets.

Accordingly, she sold them several crates, ringing them up ten cents at a time.

Of course, when the powers-that-be found out about that, they busted her down to water duty.

When she was working in the cafeteria, she always had the cleanest dishes. The dishwasher was, apparently, some sort of booze hound. It was common knowledge and not a lot of people treated him with much respect. But of course my grandmother was nice to him and of course her dishes were the cleanest.

Here's another example. This one transcends humanity.

My grandmother had a horrible car accident a couple years ago. She crashed into a tree and was pretty close to dying for a long time. Way longer than any of the family (and friends) really wants to think about.

This wreck, this catastrophe, happened right around the corner from the house and her dogs were in the car. The running theory is she was distracted by the dogs (which were all fine) and lost the road for a second.

But the reason she was even on the road was that the dogs were all barking at a toad. She packed up the dogs into the car to protect the toad. My grandmother cares so much for an amphibian, I can only imagine what's going on in her heart for her family.

Anyway, it's a lovely sentiment and I love my grandmother very much. I can't imagine a person who couldn't.

Thanksgiving 2K7

Y'ever write the date and realize it's the future? That just happened to me.

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all! Time to take stock in life and realize a whole buncha stuff. Like New Years but with a focus on Cooked Turkey instead of Wild Turkey (I'm so clever).

So, I'm sitting here in my little editing cubicle at the age of 23, 24 in less than a week. I work 4 AM to 12:30 PM at a job that I like well enough (but don't love). I'm pretty happy with my living situation. I like my roommates and the city quite a bit. I'm thankful for that. I've got a family that loves me and vice versa, I'm thankful for that.

An example of love (maybe?): My car had a pretty catastrophic and spectacular breakdown yesterday. The starter has been giving me grief for a while and I've been avoiding getting work done on it because a)I'm poor and b)it always would start eventually. On my drive home yesterday, I started to realize that my car was sounding and smelling awfully funny. Wicked funny, even. As I pulled up to my parking spot on Neal St. and turned off the car to have a little peek-a-loo at the engine (mostly to see that it's there, for all my mechanical skill)I realized I'd have a slight problem.

The car wouldn't turn off.

It's a sort of weird feeling. My keys were out of the ignition, sitting in my pocket, and the beast was still trying to turn over. There's a story of a pirate ship captured by British forces. The pirate crew was in a line shoulder-to-shoulder along the deck, guns trained on them to properly illustrate the gravity of the situation. The Pirate Captain was bound and dragged to one end of the line where the Brits offered this ultimatum: "As the Captain, your life is forfeit. You will be decapitated. But you have it in your power to save your men. Every man you walk past after being decapitated will be spared."

Clearly that wasn't verbatim. I imagine there'd've been a forsooth or two in there.

So, the pirate steels his reserve. The sword swings, the head falls. The headless body burbles and sputters past his entire crew of 20-odd pirates before succumbing to Gravity or God or Blood Loss or whatever.

All right, so it's only vaguely related to my car. But I feel like it's a good story. Any excuse for a good story, right?

Anyway, I call Dad. Dad says, "Pull the plug on the battery, but get some gloves first." I had contemplated doing such earlier, but really didn't feel like getting shocked. He assured me there was no danger of such a thing, told me to grab some gloves. When I opened the hood, smoke billowed out and by the time I had donned my knitted fingerwear, the starter had exhausted itself in a futile effort to keep a car moving that wouldn't be saved. It was an impressive show and I would've liked to have seen it a whole lot more had it not been happening to me.

I call tow companies and repair shops and arrange to have it investigated. Hopefully an update Friday will say: I've got my car back and someone left several gold bars and a stripper machine in the back.

But I doubt it.

Anyway, back to how this is an example of my family loving me:

Normally Thanksgiving is held at my grandmother's Fortified Compound and Llama Emporium in Lee, NH. But because I'm working until 12:30 Mum convinced the whole gaggle of relatives to swing down to Sebago and thus ease my travel and exhaustion. Of course, I thought that was a swell idea because driving to Sebago after work ain't no thang.

Ain't no thang if you've got a car. But now that the dang thing's busted, Mum's driving out to Portland to pick me up and driving me home, then running me back out to Portland so I can work again on Friday.

So. I'm thankful for my family. It's pretty cool.

Also, friends! I like you guys. Continue to be my friends, it's OK. I'm thankful for y'all, too. Well-wishers, I'm glad you're around but c'mon, dudes, open up! Become friends! It's neat. It's like a special club of love, except with less sex, than the phrase "Club of Love" might lend itself to.

Also, I think a Club of Love would be a pretty cool smashing device. Smashing warmth into hearts, that is. Or band name. Or maybe an album name for a band.

All right, this thing's dragging on. I'm thankful for a lot of cool things! If you're one of those cool things, please know you're thanked.

Travel

I'll take back everything bad I've ever said about Homeland Security. You know, I went to Europe for a month and was bouncing around and on the ride back they didn't catch any of the paraphernalia I had on me. They missed the cork screw, the swiss army card, the bottle of contact solution, the moisturizers, shampoos and face washes I had readily visible in my carry-on.

My carry-on. It got X-Rayed.

Here I am flying to Rochester, NY from Portland, ME and I slip my toothpaste and swiss army card into the bag. The card, mind you, has a knife, a pair of scissors, a slim pen (for stabbing!) and a nail file (for additional stabbings). I walk through the metal detector and set it off with my gargantuan belt buckle and the bag goes through the X-Ray and as I'm finally cleared through the metal detector, the X-Ray guy looks at me and says, "This your bag?"

"Shit," I'm thinking, "I'm in trouble. They found the card and they know I'm a leftist. I'm fucked."

"Found this hidden on the side. Knew right where to look." He holds my toothpaste towards me. "Can't carry more than 3 ounces, you know, gonna have to confiscate it." He hands dumps it and hands me my bag.

"Oh," I say, acting glum, "I guess that's the price of freedom."

Superheroes

I'm definitely working on an idea for a sorta superhero team. Tristyn knows about it, mom does, too.

But this post made me think of an idea for a superhero team. Actually, don't read the post. Read the title. Well, read the post if you want, it's the title that's important in this case.

So you get a bunch of guys named "Mark" and they each have some overwhelming characteristic. Mark of Quality, Mark of Approval, Mark of Showiness, etc. etc. All right, so I'm not sure how they're superheroes, exactly, but perhaps it could instead be a tale of brotherhood and how group dynamics work or something. I don't know.

OH! And they can have little clay models of themselves - or homunculi, even - and they can leave them behind after solving some crimes or something. So they'll each leave their "mark."

Get it?

Sick

I've got this crazy head cold going on right now. I'm filled with snot, which is delightful. It donned yesterday morning and was exacerbated (I think) by an allergy flair up triggered by cleaning mouse poos out of my closet in me mum's house. My brain feels like cotton right now, my thinking is not clear. I've crawled up all inside myself. For a while I thought it was the Cold/Flu Relief stuff that had been fucking with my head, but now I think it's actually the cold.

The mucus must have climbed up and short circuited some of the synapses in my brain.

Or maybe it's taking over. Approach with caution the next time you see me, friends and family, for it might not be the Krister you know and love. You might look into my eyes only to find a sinister snot monster at the wheel of a Krister-shaped vehicle!

Well, I shouldn't assume he (or she) would be sinister. Perhaps it's a benevolent or even jocular and gregarious snot monster.

Anyway, my point is, approach with caution as it might try to take you over, too!

All hope is not lost for me, though, so long as my antibodies and T cells do their work.

All right, I'll start a pool. You all predict on which date the mucus becomes sentient and commandeers my corpse, throw in a buck. I'll pay up when it happens. If it doesn't, I'll keep the money in a kleenex/decongestant/chicken noodle soup/ginger ale fund. If y'all ever get sick, we'll fight back with Western Medicine.

Dudes

Were I a spider, I'd totally set up shop next to a lightbulb and feast forever on plump, juicy moths. Shop means web.

Jimmy Carter

I'm a real big fan of Jimmy Carter.

I won't argue that he was that great of a president. But his work as an ex-president is phenomenal. Habitat for Humanity, The Carter Center, his work in peace negotiations, monitoring elections and setting up relief programs all speak to a great human being. He's written 27 books since 1980. If I'm not mistaken, that's a book a year. He's an outspoken humanitarian. His moral system is top-notch.

What is there to critique? The damage done during his presidency was far outshined by that done during the Reagan administration and since then he's done nothing but solid, humanitarian works. Maybe people are upset that he speaks up when he sees his country violating every sense of decency it used to have. Say what you will about his term, but unprovoked bloodshed and torture were not public policy, even during the Iranian kidnapping thing.

Oh well. He's still my hero.

Road Trip Games

I was recently informed of a rather amusing road trip game where you replace a car's make (I think it's make) with the word "Anal." So instead of my Subaru Legacy it would turn into the Anal Legacy.

It's fun!

Anal Echo. Anal Explorer. Anal Lancer. Anal Matrix.

And so on.

Tee hee!

Memories

On this sort of dreary (semi-dismal) afternoon, I'm sitting around reading old journals. I'm working through the Europe one (not particularly old) and I came across this entry scribbled on the bottom of a page:

More Funny Swedish Words:
Uppensbar
En Bönas Vag
Parkering
bilboget
Braskaminer
flüger färg
Farthinder
Infart
Utfart

I don't know why it's "more" funny swedish words, this is the first entry with any.

I am writing this from work

All right, no simplicity post yet. My life has ...um... been a bit too complicated to post.

That's not true. I've just been lazy.

Works still going pretty well. I get a fair amount of chill time and dick around on the internets. I run teleprompters and edit. Today I found footage from 9/11.

Mostly this update is to point out a new edition to my webpage. It's replacing the happiness scale I was only ever sorta happy with. If you can figure out what its deal is and your name is not Nick... um... good for you?

EDIT: So, it turns out I actually completely updated the look of my profile. If it's showin' up all wonky for y'all, lemme know somehow. Most of my more dedicated readers (ha! get a life, Mom (just kidding, mom, please don't stop cooking me dinners)) already know how to contact me.

EDIT 2: I modified the title for a specific, post-related reason. See if y'all can figure it out.

EDIT 3: The gadget doo-dah thang is at the very bottom of the page.

Home

I have decided, after an evening of beer and cookery, that what really makes me feel at home is cooking a nice meal.

I've felt great all evening. I mean, I got up for work at 3 PM and worked from 4-7. Felt thoroughly exhausted. I stopped by Daddy's and played some acoustics and I went home and I cooked. I broiled a steak with a cut up jalapeño pepper on top of it - seeped in some nice spicy juices - and I made mashed potatoes and cooked up some beans. The apartment smelled really delicious. I drank a beer. I ate my food.

I felt great. The weather was nice. Work didn't kill me. I ate some quality foods I made by myself. I could get used to a situation like this. There's still the dishes to do, but whatever. I'm feeling on top of the world. Or at least nearby to the top of it.

And another thing that I'm really enjoying about my job: it doesn't follow me home. When I punch out at nine in the morning, I know I don't have to grade or plan or stay after to re-administer tests. I can leave my work AT work, where it belongs. Makes it much more enjoyable. Also, none of my interactions are with angsty/whiny/punky teens.

On that note, I'm going to go nap. Also, I've been thinking about simplicity a lot lately. I'll update with an elucidating post in a couple of days.

Rock on, Garth.

Krister

Mark of Quality

Chain restaurant slogans are an important reflection of the experience to be found inside.

Applebee's, for instance, is "eatin' good in the neighborhood." It's short, it's got rhyme and it emphasizes that you'll be eating a) close to home and b) a tasty meal. Hooter's is fairly forward about what you'll find inside with their "Delightfully tacky, yet unrefined." IHOP insists that you will fulfill the craving that brought you to their door with "Come hungry, leave happy." Domino's reminds you that they deliver: "Get the door, it's Domino's." Olive Garden opens it's faux-italian arms to you in saying, "When you're here, you're family." And Denny's, purveyor of late-night grease entices with "Always open."

Wait. That's it? Always open? You can't boast warmth, cheer or even satisfaction from the experience? How about: When you come a-knockin' some disgruntled, chain-smoking waitress with her hair in a bun and her two previous husband's rings stashed at home will serve you a plate of runny eggs, soggy bacon and a mug of black coffee brewed with no love, no joy, just genuine despair.

I guess that probably wouldn't fit on a billboard.

And check the time stamp, I just woke up for work.

Chapter Twenty-Eight; in which our hero prepares to move

Moving blows.

I'm moving out to Portland and I'm really keen about that. I'm excited for my roommates. I'm excited for the job I have. I'm excited to live in this city.

But I've gotta drag all my shit our from Sebago. I've got to paint walls this bland grey (grey?) color (colour?). I've got to paint my floors a slightly blander gray.

Ah well. It should be good times. I'll be out with friends and working at a job that isn't eating my soul. My favorite difference from editing and teaching is that once I leave work, I've left work. I never have any grading or lesson-plans to do at home. True, had I been an efficient or wise teacher, I might've been able to lessen that load BUT the fact is that first year teachers have ass-loads o' work.

I am, however, going to need a second job. Part time at $10.50 an hour is simply not enough to pay the bills. So I'm thinking I should become a server somewhere or something. Maybe a job that can hook me up with a free meal. Or maybe Bull Moose is hiring? That'd be pretty groovy, I think. I'm not looking for a lot of hours, just some extra moolah coming my way.

I picked up Spoon's album Gimme Fiction. Great idea. I bought it on Wednesday, I think, and I've basically listened to it non-stop since then. Which of course means I'll burn out on it, but it's good times until then. Right now I have the song "Was it you?" stuck in my head and it's intermingling with M. Ward's "Four Hours in Washington" off Transistor Radio.

Good tunes. Good times.

PS. Charles Bukowski is pretty cool.

IKEA Explained

For those of you who didn't know I am, and my father as well, named after a desk from IKEA.

Turns out there's a rhyme to their reason.

I'm not sure why, but I'm comforted by the fact that some day I may seat myself on a Knut and place my pen and paper on a Sven and start writing. And that I don't need to enslave a horde of friendly blonde folks to do it.

That Knut/Sven scenario also sorta sounds like it might come out of a S&M porn flick.

Oh, and I guess I'm back from Europe safe and sound but sans luggage. More updates later.

EDIT: Apparently, IKEA is discontinuing me or something. I'm a little pissed. BUT there's hope. I found another link to look at me (and dad) here. Enjoy.

OK, here goes

So, I was going to create a video blog, a la Ben's Bellflur trip, but decided I couldn't be bothered with it.

So I'll link you to relevant clips here.

This is the hotel I'm at tonight. It's the Hotel belfort. Or Belfort Hotel. I don't know. It smells a bit funny.

I tried to rent a bike. I think the video speaks for itself.

Another hotel. It's referenced in the Hotel Belfort vid!

A water hole. This is actually where the aformentioned reference comes in.

An open letter to the French Homeless peoples.

A funerary procession at Pêre Lachaise. James Morrison and Oscar Wilde (among others, I'm looking at you Eugene Delacroix) are in sitú there.

Amelie fans might recognize a cloudy Sacre Couer.

The Moulin Rouge.

An experimental video.

Some of these links might be lame for a while, but I swear I'll update them. I'm using some bar's WiFi at the moment. Only here in France they pronounce it "WeeFee." Cute! Check back here for all your Krister News!

Also, Mom in particular, that last video is, in fact, a joke. Playing off all the depressed kids who are looking to be disenchanted with things. It's wonderful here.

Holy crap, I just ate a really spicy peppercorn off these peppered olives. Man! Whoo. I hope no one looks over and sees me crying in a bar. I mean, I wasn't crying. It barely tasted like anything. Someone hand me a boot full of vodka to drink.

Ha!

Cool. Jon Lovitz rocks socks.

Carry on.

Otsikko

Ha, OK, this is weird because everything that I'm not physically typing on this page right now is in Finnish.

Because I'm in Finland.

But I am not here to talk to you about that, not today. I'll probably wind up creating a separate blog for all that noise (I'm taking notes in the Moleskine Sra. Hubka got me as a parting gift).

I'm here to talk to you about OctoSquid. I won't give you any more details, but suffice it to say this paragraph appears within:

"When we first saw it, I was really delighted because it was new and alive," said Jan War, operations manager at NELHA. "I've never seen anything like that."

Clool!

London(town)

All right. Here's a quicky write-up of London:

Seems like an all right place.

I'm way jet lagged and I've been sorta dead for most of the visit here. The British Museum is Awesome in both senses of that word. London is a lively city with at least as many tourists as locals. At least in the touristy spots I was at for my five or whatever hours here.

I had real Shephard's Pie and a Pint. I tried to convince a (cute French) girl she should by an ancient sumerian helmet. She said she would. I walked around. Everyone here smokes. Everyone has some sort of an accent.

I'm sitting in a Cyber Café/ Camera Shop right now, sucking down some pretty sweet Hot Chocolate and trying to steel myself for the trip back to Heathrow and then on over to Stockholm. I'm going to sleep like Rip Van Winkle tonight. If you don't hear from me for 20 years, why the fuck didn't you start looking sooner? Also, I'll be at the Ibis Stockholm Arlanda Airport.

Also, London has had no fog, except my own mental one, but it has had the longest single Sunshower I've ever witnessed.

All right, I'd best be off.

To fly!

Whoa

So, since I'll totally be in Europe I think I'll be in a mailing mood. If'n you want a missive (or several, depending on how I feel about you) leave me a message in one of the various ways you can (comments, emails, IMs etc.) with your addy and I'll be sure to mail a postcard or something.

A fish? Who knows?

Yes! Good. Do it. Give me things to write and do while I'm gone. I'll talk about adventures and make stuff up about Europeans. Or it could probably totally also be fact. I won't ever tell. You'll have to decide for yourself.

Also, the Optomoetrist said my eyes would be fine with contacts today but for some reason my eye got all red and puffed out a lot. But now it's fine. I think it was done with the contact and dried out with a terrible quickness.

EDIT: How many of my posts are titled "Whoa"?

2X EDIT: I've got this Tom Waits song stuck in my head. Well, it's not a Tom Waits song, but it's his version. It's good. But you don't get to know what it is because I can't remember the title. Probably something about "Going out to meet my lord" or something.

3X the EDIT: Looks like I've made three posts called "Whoa."

Alright

This is it. The morning of my great adventure. I'm feelin' OK. I was up too late, I think, but that's par for me. I'm always up too late. I'm packed (more or less) and it's a pretty light load. I've got travel plans, I've got tickets. Hell, I've even got some money to kick around whilst abroad.

Today's leg of the journey will take me toward VA. I intend to kick it up "old school" with the VA cronies for a couple days before hopping on a plane and jumping the pond. I'll have a day in London before I board another plane and my grandmother meets me in Stockholm. After a week of hanging out with her I'm Paris bound. I arrive in Paris on the 10th and don't have any specific plans after that except that I have to make it to Seville (Spain, for those who don't know) by the 31st. Preferably by the 29th.

Eurotrip, here comes me.

Beta

So, I guess google's Russian/English translator really still is in BETA. For example.

Not that "really bitch place" shouldn't join the lexicon. Nor that I could do much better.

June 20th

The school year is over. I'm glad I'm not going back, there was too much misery in the job. Which kinda sucks, I still really like working with young'uns. Seeing progress in their Spanish was delightful. I really loved all my kids, too.

I can't say the same for all my students. Some of my loved kids were completely terrible at being students.

Alas. In the future I think better classroom management would significantly lessen the misery. Also, all of the bullshit in the job, the grading, the meetings, the paperwork, all of it. I can see this being a really great job in about ten years when my life is mor settled.

That was another problem. I'm too young to be doing this right now. I want to get out, run around and be a crazy idiot. I want to meet tons of people. I want to travel and live more spontaneously. I don't want to be tied down to a job that I'm not happy with. I'm not ready for that part of the American Dream.

Plus, running into students at parties is totally, totally lame.

So, here's to summer. I'm going down to VA in a week and from there I'll be trekkin' over to Europe to tool about for a month. Then I'm moving in with Nick Poulin (yes, Pedro, Elvira, et al. that's Zack Poulin's older brother), Jeremy Griffin and Matt Bassett. Maybe there's only one "t" in "Bassett." In fact, I think that's exactly the case.

Then I need to get me a job! Hopefully writing or newswork or something.

Anyway, that's the update for now.

Heartening News

I can't remember the exact bill that did it, if I had to guess I'd say it was the Patriot Act, but one of the laws of the land gives the president power to declare anyone, absolutely any citizen standing, an "Enemy Combatant." If you are declared as such all the normal rules of prisoner care are tossed to the wayside. Perhaps most disturbingly the fact that you can be held indefinitely without having any idea why. The arresting officials have no legal obligation to inform a "suspect" why, exactly, s/he is being held.

the courts have shot that motherfucker down.

This is excellent news. We've still got legs to stand on. We're still being heard. Hopefully this act won't turn everyone complacent and we'll still be vigilant, responsible and informed citizens.

All right, sleep time.

Hey! All right!

Looks like I can post on my Blog with Safari again! Oh frabjous day, callooh, callay!

Expect more posts later. I have no thoughts right now except that the end of the school year is bittersweet (mostly because I want out but it's the easiest part lessonplan-wise) and it's too warm in my room, so I'm going to put on shorts.

Yes.

Open Source Living

This is a bit of an unfocused ramble. I just saw a bOINGbOING link (forgive the lack of a direct URL, school forbids the site and I saw it through google.reader's proxy) that mentioned this upcoming weekend in Toronto is going to be "OpenCity." People will wander and exchange ideas etc. It's an "unconference." No doubt this is a direct result of things that the internet has afforded people, contributions from across a diverse field of interests, suggestions from outsiders, anonymity in posting comments etc. I'm not sure exactly how OpenCity works, but I image that the goal is to be as much like an internet forum as possible. A wiki, if you will. People are going to form a community and be together while maintaining some level of distance, I guess.

It seems like an interesting idea. The best solutions are the ones that are created by a group of people with a varied field of reference and different interests. It is because of different perspectives etc. that great solutions arise. New viewpoints unite with trained professionalism to create some wonderful innovations.

So here's my question, will the open freedom of the internet further manifest itself on society? Will events such as OpenCity continue to be a fringe group, outsider activity or will it come in and sweep the norm? I'm kind of hoping it does. I feel like a Webocracy would have some nice benefits. I'll admit I lean a little toward Socialism, so I'm excited that a Webocracy would most certainly provide some fantastic services for The People. On the other hand, the competitive edge of trying to make your service the one people use will ensure better products for all.

So, if this trend catches on, and I'll make this my formal prediction that it will, you can bet I'll be grinning about it.

Forget Web 2.0. Let's gear up for Life 2.0.

EDIT: OpenCity Toronter Lizink

Assisted Suicide

I'm going to start off by saying this: I'm all for it.

That said, there's some issues with it. I certainly don't feel like I could be a... um... euthanizer. And there's some gray area about the wishes of the soon to be deceased in cases of the-somewhat-comatose but by and large, let people control their lives. If you're rational and conscious and dying horribly, why not take that final step yourself? That way your lose ends will for sure be taken care of by you. And it is impossible, or at least improbable, for some terminally-ill-yet-coherent patients to do the deed themselves. Step right up, then, and hire yourself someone to do it for you.

That's the main reason why (for a while, at least) I didn't understand the uproar about Dr. Kevorkian. He seems like a decent enough guy just helping people out one final time.

But I think I get it a little bit now. A lot of the anger and resentment comes from hurt on the families of the "victim." Or of people who have been in similar boats. Death is that final goodbye and it is hard to accept that someone would want it. That all the uncertainty and darkness of death could seem better than all the loveliness of life. If life's lost its luster, though, death's dark door looms decidedly more pleasantly on the horizon.

Suicide is, however, fairly selfish. It takes into account only what's in your best interest without considering the effects it might have on others. The people who rally out against Kevorkian are the same who have been wounded or could see themselves being wounded by someone ending it all.

Or maybe it's by those who are jealous of the courage they must have. Those who embrace the unknown and step out into the darkness necessarily have some guts backing up their decisions. I can't even imagine it. Is it nothing? Is it like falling asleep? Are there dreams you're always forgetting?

Anyway, I'm rambling a bit. Kevorkian has done good work and while I'm sad he won't continue it (part of his parole) I'm glad he'll still be able to speak to it. It's a travesty that he lost eight years of his life for something as noble as granting someone their one last wish.

I know what Hunts You

Lord of the Rings quotes I don't want to hear in the bathroom

10. I was there the day the strength of men failed.

9. That one scream Treebeard yells when he sees all the deforestry Sauruman's been up to.

8. Nobody tosses a dwarf.

7. What is this new devilry?

6. If in doubt, always follow your nose.

5. Cast it into the fire! Destroy it!

4. My precious!

3. Keep it secret, keep it safe.

2. Share the load.

1. It comes in pints?

Letdown!

I recently saw this banner ad:



and was initially excited. 'Hooray!' I thought, "We're finally free of Ann Coulter!"

And then it turned into something much, much worse. It is upsetting there is a market for a rabid, psychotic, bigotted creationist.

She's got balls, though.

Intolerance

"I don't think it's right. I don't think it's natural. If we were supposed to be like that, we'd all be like that. We'd be able to reproduce that way."

I must admit, this is, perhaps, the absolute shittiest argument I've ever heard against Gay Marriage. It is so outside the issue and comes from such a weird point of view. It's almost like he doesn't believe homosexuality exists.

I'm sure this kid looks at homosexuality as some sort of a choice. Like someone woke up some day and said, "Yep, this straight thing is all well and good but I think I'm gonna go for the lifestyle that's most likely to get the shit kicked out of me."

While we're outlawing homosexuality, we might as well outlaw being black, handicapped or Jewish. I mean, if we were supposed to be any one of those things (or some combination) we'd all be that way, right?

Intolerance is my biggest problem with Maine, I think. We're such a white bread state. 97% white, largely poor (except the summer tourists many resent) and fairly ignorant. I know we're not the poorest or most ignorant but I'm fairly certain the states that are beating us there are in the South. And I think we all feel the same way about that. I can't tolerate the South.

Ha, a joke!

Well. this is a sorta weak post, but I realized I must blog more frequently. I started using Safari on my home machine and it's been having some compatibility issues with blogging. But I'll do it, I'll persevere.

Absolutely

Absolutely wonderful video To What Love Serves.

Completely lovely. Enjoy.

You should know that I had to open up Firefox to post this entry, as Blogger and my Safari seem to be having some compatibility issues. I care that much about y'all seeing it.

Also good? I'm going to see my Dad opening for BB King on the 20th in Augusta. Cool! He'll be playing bass for Mark "Guitar" Miller.

EDIT: You can see a pic of Dad on stage with Mark here.

Echoes of Salazar

I'm speaking to the riots in L.A.

Highly reminiscent of the Chicano riot that sparked the death of Ruben Salazar, the May Day protests sudden turn from Vigil to Violence could probably be analyzed for a good many years and never fully understood.

What's known is the police apparently did vocally call for the Rally to be disbursed some 2 and a half hours before the planned conclusion. Whether the announcement came from helicopter or megaphone is unclear and, frankly, immaterial. They called out in English and it has been made rather abundantly clear since then that nearly no one heard the order to move out.

The police rush in and here's where the Salazar mimicry begins in earnest, Journalists took the majority of the flak. Sure old men and children were beaten down, too, but of 10 injuries, says the article (first link), 7 were journalists. What seems clear to me is that while the police might have had proper grounds for asking people to leave, they were not comfortable with their process of eviction being recorded.

Guess that blew up in their faces.

I'm somewhat worried, though, about the police declaring "open season on journalists" - to quote H.S. Thompson from Strange Rumblings in Aztlan. Police states are a scary thing, we don't need our already fading liberties to be further crushed by a militant blue fist.

I'm not really sure how much further I can go with this without doing significant research, so I'll conclude here with this addendum, I think the most of cops are pretty all right guys. But you get any crowd of guys with an obvious need for power and control in a tense situation against a people they've been programmed to loathe and see what happens.

Ah, justice.

Whoa

10 Easy Steps to Fascism in America.

Kinda scary. There certainly are stepping blocks in place for a horrible Über-State. Not that it will necessarily wind up in that place. Terrifying to think about, though. What I'm not looking forward too is when the prominent activists, journalists and whatnot all disappear.

Luckily, the checks and balances are not all destroyed. There are still steps to be taken and actions against the general rotten state of affairs.

Constant Vigilance, after all, is the price of democracy. Not a sacrifice of liberties. Not a random and volatile war for capital gain.

Uh, to arms? Not literally, of course, but it'd be pretty excellent if The People started standing up for Themselves, myself included.

In an unrelated note, sometimes I'm filled with pride for some of my students and disgust for some of the others. I have one girl, for instance, who printed out a bunch of signs with the Homo-Rainbow (phrase stolen from Ween) and the declaration "These are the colors of America. I support bi and gay people." She and her friends are wearing them around school today.

That's awesome. I'm all for standing for people. And student activism!

Of course, I walked into the bathroom earlier and someone had taped it up in the urinal. That is disgusting. Intolerance, as cool as it seems, is not cool at all. It's stupid, narrow-minded bullshit. I'm preaching to the choir here, probably, but it is most definitely a putrid practice. And a couple of kids were joking about how they were going to dispose of the signs. What the best way would be.

"I'm going to rip this up and stomp on it."
"I'm going to take it home and set it on fire."

Equally as gross.

Whoa

I'm terrified.

And aroused?

Violence

It has been a gross couple of days.

Lou Dobbs has said some smart things about the Virginia Tech Massacre. You can find them here. I'll summarize here though if you don't want to read that article.

The VTech killings are an absolute travesty. Even though there have been 250 school shootings in the past 80 years, the biggest killers in colleges are alcohol and suicide. Binge Drinking, say officials, also leads to the majority of the Rape cases reported on campuses. And then there's the violence that is not sensational, the individual murders, beat-downs and robberies.

Then we get incidents where the very next day 157 are killed in explosions in Baghdad. It doesn't get nearly the coverage the VTech killings did. It's half a world a way. But it's a more solvable situation than what happened in Blacksburg. That kid was an anomaly. A tragic anomaly. These blasts in Baghdad are part of a statement of terror and a direct reaction to the political turmoil that has been caused largely by the US-led "intervention." These people by and large just want the United States out.

And on the same day, we are treated to ridiculous shit like this where Secret Service Agents aren't competent enough to use their own firearms. The NRA and gun lobbyists are worried that the Virgina Tech Bloodbath is going to be "bogarted" for the anti-gun cause. They should be more worried about this story. Both stories, of course, argue similar points, but the Gun Accident where trained Secret Service Agents wind up injuring each other unintentionally speaks stronger than the kid who goes batshit and takes out 32 of his peers. There is no stopping the latter from committing some act of violence but there is plenty we can do about the accidents.

Anyway. It's been a gross couple of days.

Battle of the Browsers

I recently switched back to Safari because Firefox was sapping my computer and making her crash more than was needed. Safari's not perfect, but it's better.

Stuff like this, however, makes me want to switch back.

Curses!

Also, I'm sure this was my most engaging post as of yet.

EDIT: That link is clearly the wrong one. I'm going to leave it, though, because it amuses me.

Terrible

Here's something bound to enrage or at least dissapoint y'all.

Fox news has hijacked Kurt Vonnegut Jr.'s death for ridiculing the left. Ugly, ugly stuff.

Man, it's a shame Vonnegut was a humanist who believed in the power of the general people and not the power of a few, cracked and greedy political leaders.

Web 2.0

I wasn't named Time's Person of the Year for nothing.

So here I am, joining Technorati as well as Digg and Twitter in one day. This is what happens, folks, when school is cancelled.

Anyway, the major reason for this post (third today!) is that I need to post this link.

Enjoy

As predicted

I joined Twitter. You can check out my posts (as I know you're all chomping at the bit to) here.

I think because food plays an important part of my life AND I've just posted my first post about drinking coffee, I'm going to try to work in eating on every post.

Also, I was thinking - and I need your opinions on this, dear readers (a simple comment will suffice) - should I try and take up all 140 characters with every post?

Krister, out

Twitterlee-Dee

All right, if you have not heard of it there exists these days an interesting micro-blog site called Twitter. You have 140 characters to post about whatever. Usually it winds up being posts about what that person happens to be doing. If you were consistent about it, at the end of your life you might have an interesting, stacatto autobiography.

But what is perhaps more fascinating is Twittervision. On Twittervision you get a globe and the latest Twitter posts pop up from the geographic locations they were made. It's incredible. The majority of the posts are from the United States, with Europe and it's myriad languages, Mexico and Spanish and the rest of the world following behind. I've only seen one post from Japan and one post from the South Pacific apart from that. I was alerted to the existence of Twittervision by an article that suggested "a savvy journalist might watch Twittervision to look for interviews on current crises."

If I had my way, I'd have a projector running Twittervision against a wall in my house 24/7.

Anyway, I expect this blog will be updated momentarily with news of my joining Twitter and a link to my feed.

I had no idea...

Huh! 86 years of misleading people!
Vomitoria were no place for vomiting, it would seem.
Take THAT 7th grade Latin teacher. Sorta. She barely taught us Latin.

Anyway, interesting to note!

clipped from dictionary.reference.com Main Entry: vomitorium Part of Speech: n Definition: 1754, "passage or opening in an ancient amphitheater, leading to or from the seats," from L. (Macrobius, Sat., VI.iv); see vomit. Erroneous meaning "place where ancient Romans (allegedly) deliberately vomited during feasts" is attested from 1923. Etymology: Latin vomitorius, alluding to the path's discharging of the spectators Usage: plural vomitoria

Haha, what?

This is pretty great. It's a livejournal post!

Oh man, it's great, though.

So is dinner. But you know what isn't? Grading. And unfortunately I'm about to trade the former for the latter.

LAME.

Also Even llamas do it

The Modern Age

I feel like this service is extremely important in the world of Web 2.0.

Free Education on the Internet

The fact that such a service is available tickles me to my very core. Charging people to take a hold of their own education is the goal of the education system as a whole, I think. Or at least it should be. Unfortunately, such a simple mission is one of the hardest to achieve.

The ready access of cheap (free!) information available for everyone to use as needed, to update and to modify and to contribute their own expertise is one of the greatest contributions folks have made for the advancement of humanity. And it is a practice that goes back to the dawn of humans. From people simply asking how to hunt or make bread, to libraries to the internet the availability of information seems to be one of the most important aspects of a free society.

Anyway, I think it's cool.

Also, this Scientist, Richard Lindzen, almost makes an interesting point about Global Warming here. And then he's full of shit. There might not be an ideal temperature for the planet, but there is most certainly an ideal temperature for humans.

Also, people have been complaining about the upcoming regulations that will be made on Carbon Dioxide as a greenhouse gas. Arguing that since it is a naturally occurring substance, one that we ourselves release with every exhalation, it is illogical to regulate it. On that ground, it would be just as illogical to regulate marijuana, food or any just about any other drug. The fact of the matter is that there are any number of "naturally occurring" chemicals, compounds and whatnot that we produce in unnaturally large quantities. Carbon Dioxide is just one of them. Plutonium is another. I don't think it's a bad idea to regulate these chemicals. They're dangerous.

And people running around with free reign on releasing these chemicals amplify that danger to a great degree.

I believe

I believe in peace in Iraq. I believe that means withdrawing the troops. There is no peace in violence.

I believe in peace in Iraq. I believe that means letting Iraqis find their way. There is no peace is forcing a system on people.

I believe I signed up for this blog thing. One Million Blogs for Peace. I believe that means I support peace. Well, that doesn't mean it. But it represents my belief in it.

Stay Classy, America

[2021 EDIT. I AM ASHAMED BY THIS POST. I WAS YOUNG AND DUMB AND TOOK JOY IN HARMFUL LANGUAGE AND ATTITUDES].

A little solidarity, please

So, the amusing fact of google's ability to map the drive from the U.S. to certain European cities is balanced that it apparently can't figure out how to cross the Pacific. As if some little switch in the machine was saying, "Swim across the Pacific? Ridiculous!"

I have swum the Atlantic, incidentally, and made the trip in record time because a big ol' Gulper Eel led the way, eating everything in my path.

The Reaping

Anyone else think the trailers for The Reaping are hilarious?

The movie looks like it's going to be utter trash that pretends to be deep and religiously philosophical while cashing in on cheap scares. But the funniest part for me is toward the end when the screen flashes "What hath God wrought?" And that title card is immediately followed by "Hillary Swank."

God hath wrought Hillary Swank.

Also worth noting (or nothing) is the fact that "What hath God wrought?" is the first message sent via telegraph by Samuel Morse. That happened May, 24th 1844.

Shit IN luck

Pretty god damn lucky if you ask me. Choice between death/mutilation and being covered in 9 inches of crap isn't a choice at all. I'm fairly certain we all have showers of some sort.

clipped from news.sky.com A woman survived a fall from a sixth floor balcony when a pile of poo broke her fall. The lucky - or unlucky - escape happened when the woman was hanging out her laundry. She suffered only slight injuries in the incident in Nanjing, China. "She landed in a 20cm thick heap of excrement," the Kuaibao tabloid newspaper gleefully reported.

Backup

In reference to that allegation about the U.S. supporting a Pakistani terrorist group, I offer this source, an ABC News Blog.

And it is significantly worse than the image I had painted briefly last entry. Not only is it a terrorist group, it's a fucking Al-Qaeda terrorist group. This kind of report needs more coverage.

Win a Trip with Krister Rollins, more like it

I'm signing up to try and win a Trip with NY Times journalist Nick Kristof. He selects two people, one student and one teacher, to accompany him on a trip to Africa to report on... uh... Africans, I guess.

Anyway, the application requires an essay of 700 words or less. Mine checks in at a hearty 678. And here it is:

Under the orange glow of the sodium arc lights, I gave 57 copies of The Gospel of St. John to various friends, acquaintances, strangers and passers-by at a house party in the 19th Ward of Rochester, NY. Religiously, I'm unaffiliated. I was testing myself and looking to start a lot of conversations.

Lately my conversations with strangers have been of a more biological impetus, but the thrill of discovering people remains.

I have been writing since at least the fourth grade, including investigative journalism. Apart from a fiction story about time-traveling cats, that year I wrote an article about the student at the neighboring desk and his propensity for passing gas. I took a few liberties, as I recall, about the teacher passing out and the class guinea pig dying, but the article remains one of my fonder grade school memories. It was one article I had written in a self-produced journal of four pages. The other was about a ground-hog we had espied traversing the grounds from bush to bush.

Maybe it is because I'm an only child from a quiet, rural town in a quiet, rural state or maybe it is because my family has a long-standing history of activism but I have a drive for humanist causes. I firmly believe in the power of people to do the Right Thing. Sometimes a little prodding or poking is needed, gentle nudging from those in the know. I would like to be one of those doing the prodding.

I'm tired of standing aside and talking with friends who largely agree with me. I'm tired of preaching to the choir, of not making waves and of not informing. I got a taste of it writing for my school paper and it whet my appetite. I'm ready for more.

I have traveled. Not extensively but I've been around a bit. I have not had an experience yet that I have regretted. When I was sick in New Zealand and vomiting water and mucus, I was pleased the perfumed air was not the air of home. The insomnia brought on by travel and the undying day of Summer Solstice in the Åland Islands was a delight. Listening to birds tweetling and twittering at midnight in a hazy, purple dusk enchanted my Mother and I and eternally endeared me to that land. The Bahamas are a lovely place but in desperate need of environmental reform. For every sun and rum soaked tourist there has to be half a ton of waste and refuse. Styrofoam and bottles litter every inch of Eleuthera that isn't a lived in tourist abode.

I know something about determination, drive and sacrifice for your art. During High School I broke my thumb in a poorly executed stunt for a movie that wound up abandoned. The director, Nick, was less than sympathetic.

“Nick, I think I really hurt my thumb.”

“Shut up, pussy, get back on the ground.”

I've made mistakes. In an article about the Middle East, I made some editorial slip-ups that were, unfortunately, interpreted as anti-semitic. But after a brief talk with Hillel House and a reconciliation in the next issue, the situation was ameliorated.

I've seen a man die. A heart attack at the bottom of a ski trail. I've been the ring bearer in a wedding. I've been pulled over for drunken bicycling. I've had a hamburger with a fried egg on it. I've broken up fights. I've witnessed an underground boxing tournament. I've sat by my dying grandmother and I cried when she walked again. I've looked ten generations into my past. I've driven 370 miles to sleep on a mattress on a floor and film a band. I've been in a car accident. I've fished in the moonlight. I've jumped off the top of a building. I've moved a ton of ice with a small push.

I've lived a good enough life for 23 years but I have not yet done what I need to. I have not yet done enough good for others.

I'm grading...

...PSYCHE!

I'm reading bizarre webcomics from Joey Mac's away message:


Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

And now, back to the toil, yo.

Drawings from the Media

Every now and then I see a picture in the news (online print, not moving TV or streamy internet news) that moves me to drawing it. Or something like it slash inspired by it. And here they are:



I believe this is based on a well-dressed middle eastern man responding to a car bombing that killed his brother.



This guy was involved in a riot in some place, I don't remember. There were impressive flames and smoke behind him in the picture.



Lisa Nowak is the astronaut lady who drove across several states (Texas to Florida, I believe) in order to kidnap the current girlfriend of her former boyfriend. I can see how she was once rather pretty but is a little... strung out.

This is one of my favorites, although I think the text could be worked in a lot better and her jacket needs to be darker. Alas!

BaDRAWmas

Here's some drawings I made in the Bahamas. Not all of them, but stuff where I felt there was some goodness ahappenin'.



There's clearly something wrong with some of the perspective there, but I dig parts of it. I'm working on finishing up a drawing of some brain coral that has the same wall thing on it, perhaps a bit better executed. But there's so many fine lines on that brain coral, man!



These came out of a magazine my grandmother brought with her from Sweden. Luckily, it was in English. They were in different articles, but I think the whole thing was about the human brain and language roots etc.



Mostly I like this one for my comment on the lizard neck-flap. I drew this stuff sorta drunk.



I rather like the tree stump. (The thing on the right). The image on the left was my first Bahama Drawing and resulted in a bit of a sunburn on me neck.

Hmm

Apparently, Blogger's Spam-prevention robots have flagged my blog as being particularly spamful. You'll all only be reading this after I get a human anti-spam dude to check out my blog and see that I'm a real guy.

With real needs.

And those needs can only be fulfilled by blogging!

What I want to know is: What am I doing that would make robots (cool! Robots!) pay attention to me? What about my writing and linking techniques suggests the random, sentences and singular focus of the links of a Spamblog (Spog for those of you innarested in brevity).

Yep.

Well, how about that

China is accusing the United States of Stampeding over Iraqi's rights.

I think that says something. Because if you're going to be accused of violating human's rights, makes sense that it would come from a country that knows human rights violations.

New story

New short story over at grungynoir. It might be a gross violation of the implications of the name of the blog. (It might be a blog's name's implication's gross violation).

1/9/2007

High school girls can be really dumb, he says on his second beer watching Hellboy. All teachers in our high school have, for instance, a study hall. And in that study hall can be any variety of students. Typically not the greatest students because they're in Study Hall and not on Special Privilege (or what have you). So I've had one girl in here all year and she is just a gigantic attention whore. She's a good girl, I like Marie (Pseudonym!) but it's true. She wanders from cluster of boys to cluster of boys eliciting attention and comments in whatever form she can get them. high school boys being what they are (horny) that's mostly sorta flirty insults.

Usually it's no problem. Marie gets her fix and moves on. Today, though, was somehow different and she was protesting the treatment more. Normally I'd've put a stop to it but she was clearly protesting it more because she wanted more attention. Also the kids were being legitimately funny. An example:

MARIE: Hey, guys.
BILLY: You're such a llama, Marie.
TEDDY: Haha, yeah. A llama.
BILLY: You llama. MOOOOO!
TEDDY: Haha, yeah. MOOOOO!
BILLY AND TEDDY: MOOOOOO!!
TEDDY: Llamas don't even go "moo." Marie, you're an alpaca! MOOOOO!
BILLY AND TEDDY: MOOOOOO! MOOOOO!!
MARIE: Whatever, you guys.
BILLY: You're a parrot, Marie. MOOOOO!
TEDDY: MOOOO!

So, she got up and walked over to the door with a pencil, aiming to sign out and wander. Without even asking my permission first.
"Marie," I said, "Where are you going?"
"I need to get out of here! I need to wander!"
"What?"
"Can I go wander, Mr. Rollins?"
"Well," I said, "You can go hang out in the corner."

Also, this girl delivers these fake hiccoughs every now and again for attention. She basically says "eep!" in a falsetto sorta voice.

But she is good people, don't get me wrong. She's just in high school.

Take it, God Dammit

Enjoy!

New Years Post!

Right! I figure if I post these here and other people see them I can force myself to do them because if I don't I'll feel guilty.

Resolutions:
Healthen myself up! This includes eating more healthful foods and less crap foods and losing my paunch and perhaps gaining some muscle mass. I'm going to wait to join a gym until the post-holiday fatties have gotten past their post-binge work-outs.

Get something published. A poem or a story in a magazine. Or a book or publication. Something beyond the tubeoblognets.

Do either the Peace Corps thing or apply for grad school with a linguistics focus. Figure out which one of those my life really needs. See where in the world those will take me.

Date again. I miss dating!

Less heavy drinking, too. This holiday break has reminded me that it's really not that good for you!

So folks, if you don't see me doing these things, make sure you taunt me about it. Shame me into doing them! This list might get stuff added to it.