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Nick Ciarochi

Sole member of Athens, Georgia indie "band" Jonny Cacophony. Songwriter, cynic, designer, bohemian hedonist. Surprisingly good with children.
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Oct 4, 2002


Never let it be said that I persisted in blind opposition to someone with better evidence than I. I suppose that "despot" really is pronounced "dess-pott," although I can't for the life of me imagine why. Who would want such an ugly-sounding word in their language? Anyway, I concede the point. I probably won't say it correctly for some time, just out of vocal habit, though.

Nick ::: 6:11 PM ::: 0 comments


God, I feel so sorry for my dad. He's trying to take an interest, and he's just making a complete fool of himself.

Dad: "You got an 85 in Drama, didn't you?"

Me: "Yeah, Dad."

Dad: "How on Earth can you get a B in a class like drama?"

Me: "Poulos assigns grades pretty arbitrarily for reports; he doesn't actually grade us daily. Your acting, the importance of your role, his mood that day, the weather, the color shirt he's wearing; all can have an effect on the grade. It's no big deal."

Dad: "You need to talk to Mr. Poulos and find out what you need to do to get an A."

Me: "Be Daniel Roach. Seriously, Dad, he just gives out whatever grades he feels like, and nagging him isn't going to help, I guarantee it."

Dad: "If you don't find out, I'll have to find out for you."

Me: "Ahaha. Dad, you obviously have no clue what you are talking about, and you're meddling with a dynamic you don't understand in the least. You nagging him is a guaranteed C, at best."

Dad: "Then find out yourself why he gave you a B."

Me: "I already told you, it's pretty arbitrary."

Dad: "You're wrong. There's a law against that."

Me: "OK, so now I'm going to try to get the director fired? Brilliant. I bet that will make future auditions a breeze."

Dad: "Don't try to get him fired. Just back him into a corner and force him to justify himself."

Me: "I think I have something stuck in my ear. Are we talking about the same person? And are we talking about improving my grade or getting me trampled to death?"

Dad: "You heard me."

Me: "It's not my hearing that's the issue. The issue is your unadulterated ignorance about all things Poulos and your unwillingness to accept that I know just a little bit more about the guy than you do."

Dad: "If you can't improve your grade to an A, you need to get out of that class."

Me: "Oh, that's a great alternative. This isn't a class, Dad, it's a play. It's like quitting your job because your boss gave you an average performance review rather than an above-average one. The kind of schools that will care about drama won't care about grades, and the kind of schools that care about grades won't care about drama."

Dad: "Like I said, I'll talk to him if you won't."

Me: "And like I said, your lack of confidence in me is insulting and your lack of understanding of my situation borders on comical. If you'd think a little instead of retreating back to your stupid ultimatum you'd understand that just maybe this situation is more complicated than you think it is."

I think now I have to go talk to Poulos and warn him that my crazy clueless father is trying to get involved and that no amount of logic or common sense can stop him. Otherwise he'll think that I went and whined to my dad and get really pissed at me. Of course, I tried telling Dad that, but he again retreated to his brainless little ultimatum.

My dad's a really smart guy, but sometimes he finds it tough to accept that I know more about a situation directly related to me than he does.

Nick ::: 5:32 PM ::: 0 comments

Oct 3, 2002


The problem with the youth of today is that so many people want to assign problems to the youth of today.

Seriously. The 60s had hedonism and drugs, the 70s had disco music and awful hair, the 80s had materialism and Madonna. But us? What's wrong with us?

Nothing, really. Birkenstocks? The 60s. Rap? The 80s. Afros? The 70s. The internet? What the hell's wrong with the internet?

Yeah, there was the Columbine thing, but that's hardly representative of the generation. We can hardly blame an entire age group for the actions of two lunatics.

Where are our hate crimes? Where are our violent protests? Where are our militant subversives? Old people from other generations keep trying to pinpoint some sort of problem with today's teens, but ask yourself, what does Oprah know? She knows what she's read in a bunch of alarmist books written by other ignorant old people.

We're a happy generation. We're a thoughtful generation. We're an open generation. We're a conscientious generation. Frankly, I think people who wring their hands over the Youth of America must have Cranial-Rectal Impactive Disorder. After all, it's dark in there; they can't see us.

I personally can't imagine a fate better mine. I'll be living on a moon colony designed by Kristen Voss and administrated by U.S. President Glenn. Each morning I'll pick up a newspaper and check out the latest scathing political commentary by Bethany Watzman and hilarious comic strips from Drew Dir. Before work, I'll finish off a couple of chapters in the latest Laura Murphy novel whilst listening to some mellow Adam Zaleznak music. How awesome will that be?

Nick ::: 9:28 PM ::: 0 comments

Oct 2, 2002


Hmm.

I should relate the tale of the Infinite Quantum Failure Waveform.

I should lament the tragic loss of my door-spide to an unknown fate.

I should gloat over the abduction of Bethany's APES book.

I should fume about Vocation-Initiative Disorder.

But I have Statistics homework to do.

Nick ::: 10:48 PM ::: 0 comments

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