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Oct 16, 2003

Something really scary happened today. Well, actually a couple of things happened that were really scary.

When I woke up, for some reason I got it into my silly head that it was Saturday. That wasn't scary, that was actually kind of nice, including the watching-TV-in-my-underwear-right-through-Psychology thing. The scary part was when I glanced at my clock and saw the letters "TH" right next to the numbers "12:34". I was so scared that I jumped out of bed and didn't hit the ground until I was showered, dressed, and spiked.

So I got to English OK and we started discussing Carlyle and Ruskin. The prof said something interesting about how Carlyle felt that leaders from the "true aristocracy" would make enlightened conquerors whose inherent wisdom could be relied upon by the lower classes. She went on to add that this mistaken philosophy could be seen much later in leaders like Hitler.

Not thinking (of course), I mentioned something vague about how the same sentiments could come back to bite us in the ass today.

Of course, immediately this great hush fell over the room and the teacher looked at me and grinned. "I wasn't going to go there," she said, "but go ahead."

So by this point my brain had caught up to my mouth, but pretty much all it had to add was, Oh, shit. I mumbled something about how that was really all I'd had to say.

She didn't take the hint. "No, really, go there!" Thanks a lot.

But what the hell? I took the plunge, and pointed out how almost the entire country had gone along with Bush's Iraq thing because of faith in his better sources of information, but that his intelligence came to nothing. I'd barely gotten the words "weapons of mass destruction" out of my mouth before the class was in uproar.

A couple of conservatives were saying that it wasn't right to compare Bush to Hitler. A couple of liberals were saying that I was absolutely right and that Bush should be publicly executed. Most of the class was trying to quiet everyone else down. The teacher had opened her textbook vertically and was trying to hide behind it. And the entire group had developed the sudden impression that I was some sort of crazy political activist.

I could feel the burn of a pretty bad blush, and had forgotten the question of faith in the President, faced with the more immediate concern of faith in my deodorant. I'm a political inactivist if I'm anything, and while I can maintain Fonzian composure when denouncing popular politics, I completely fell to pieces when I was railroaded into taking a side.

Don't get me wrong, I believe what I said. But what you might not understand is that I honestly don't care much about politics. They're like a brainteaser as far as I'm concerned. I was vastly more upset that a bunch of people now think I'm the type to take to the streets in protest at the drop of an opinion poll.

And then a girl from the Phi Kappa debate society tried to convince me to get involved in their goings-on, because I'm a person with "opinions and ideas." In just the span of a single class, I've gone from wry, sarcastic writer to someone with opinions and ideas. I don't want to be the kind of person you think of when you think of opinions and ideas.

You do it to yourself, you do
And that's what really hurts

And if you're frightened
You can be frightened
You can be, it's OK
Nick ::: 4:45 PM ::: 0 comments

Oct 15, 2003

Yesterday was a day of strange coincidences.

First, someone crashed into a bunch of condos. The report in the Red & Black read exactly like the Dane Cook skit. Seriously! "I was sleeping on the couch, and I heard it, so I came out." They even went so far as to specify that he did, in fact, put his shoes on before he went out. Shoes? Fuck shoes! Listen to this guy with his shoes!

Second, also in the R&B, I ran into someone. Daniel, it should make you happy to know that 'Stacy Strickland' does, in fact exist. The byline on her review of a tea café reads 'Stacy Strickland Ekmark.' Much as I hate to nullify your very interesting introspective post, I'm afraid the truth will out.

Third, I ran into someone else. I was sitting there making myself a cheese crisp when who should walk into my apartment but Jason Goldenberg. Yes, he was arrested for breaking into a jeep and stealing a parking pass. Of course, he is quick to point out that the window was open, so all he did was reach in and peel it off the windshield. Which really makes a difference, right?

Anyway, he was sentenced to community service, where he met one of NN's friends. And NN's friend is known to ditch community service to come over to our apartment and play Madden (may he rot in hell for eternity). So when NN's outlaw friend ditched community service, he brought Jason with him. Strange, I know.

On a side note, I was annoyed to find an article on the Radiohead concert in the R&B today. It was some poorly written opinion thing about how someone thought the author's dreadlocked, black friend had hip-hop connections. Anyway, it happened at the concert, was vastly inferior to my concert article, it had absolutely no point and was pitifully presented, and it still got in!

They must really hate me down there.
Nick ::: 9:32 PM ::: 0 comments

Oct 14, 2003

Tuesday Evening Update Part Some Number Which I've Long Since Lost Track Of

This morning the TV came on at around 5am, very loud. I dragged myself out of bed to chew out whoever it was, but no one was there. I just turned it off, but I suspect one of NN's stupid friends programmed it to do that.

I had trouble getting to sleep, and overslept as a result. I woke up at about 12:30. I have a class at 12:30. Even if I'd run down to catch the bus in my underwear I probably would've only caught the last 15 minutes or so of Foster blathering on about conditioning, so I didn't bother.

I did get down here in time for English. I was sitting on the ledge reading Carlyle so I could BS a discussion question, when this inconsiderate airhead next to me ashed her cigarette all over my textbook. I wanted to jump to my feet and yell, "You stupid bitch! Hot ash plus thin paper equals you're a moron!" but instead I just got up and left.

I had a nice breakfast consisting of a can of Vanilla Coke and some bananary thing I got from a vending machine. If it weren't for the Tate/SLC vending machines I swear I would starve. I haven't even gotten a chance to crack open today's R&B, I've been so rushed. I figure I'll save the bad news for later.

Speaking of the Red & Black, strange little six degrees thingy happened the other day. Apparently a while ago I used the name of my editor in a blog post, and an friend of hers googled her. On a whim, the friend put my screen name on his buddy list, then promptly forgot why it was there. When asked what I was doing on his buddy list, I was at a total loss. Then a couple of days ago he IM'ed me again because he'd figured it out. This event didn't really redefine the fabric of my life, but it was weird, and since this is a blog you can't stop me from following silly tangents.

English Prof has only graded the mid-terms of those students who were in danger of failing, but she says they're very encouraging. Which probably means that those of us with A's on the tests are going to totally bomb it.

So hey, Tennessee played like a bunch of actual volunteers at a senior center rather than a football team. "What is this 'snap' you speak of? You mean as the quarterback I'm not supposed to roll the ball toward the opposing team? Did I say win by two touchdowns? I meant make two touchdowns in the entire game. My name is Casey Clausen, and I'm confused."

Have performed sarcasmendectomy on letter to NN, but still have to print it. Have R's stamp of approval but not B's yet. Will show it to him before I send it off.

I came up with an idea for a dramatic script which is very cool but which I hate. I detest depressing movies, and this one definitely falls into that category. It figures that I'd come up with some really clever presentation for a tragic story I don't want to write.

Lame Poem of the Week

I'm seated
back table in Starbucks
-- suitable for chess --
Frappuccino and pound cake:
a satisfact'ry collegiate breakfast.

Around me the trappings
the corporate future
I've sat at this table
in Atlanta, Madrid, and Seattle
my pound cake was probably frozen and shipped.

Surrounding, the nattering college town
a three-piece plays jazz on the street
courtesy SunTrust®
enjoyed by panhandlers
and colored-hair passerby.

All that's around, it's just life
artificial and natural
a seamless, cold fusion
of needs and of wants.

And yesterday's great disappointments
are today's fading fantasies
and tomorrow, bitter memories.

Now I'm down to pound crumbs
slurping whipped cream and caramel
grumbling gut and chilly teeth
the exit is clearly marked
but somehow, I can't seem to leave.

Accomplishment of the Week
I finally got the internet connected at home, hooray! Now I can really keep up with blogs and e-mail and homestar runner. I'll probably be online a lot more, too, so feel free to make me feel loved over instant messenger.

Activity of the Week
Dreaming about throwing rocks of varying size at people. Seriously, try it! It's very therapeutic.

Professorial Idiocy of the Week
My English Prof: "If I were to drag someone in here and start hacking him to pieces with a blunt saber, what would your reaction be?"




...Later, everyone.
Nick ::: 4:16 PM ::: 0 comments

Oct 13, 2003

I hate my life.

Today, one week after the Radiohead concert and my article on it, the only story in the variety section of the Red & Black is a review of Adventure Island II, a game for the original NES.

We're talking a Duck Hunt-era game here, and it seems that's more noteworthy than my concert review.

Who do I have to sleep with to get something printed around here!?
Nick ::: 1:06 PM ::: 0 comments