Summer Reading: Dr. Gaiman or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Post 9/11 America

Three things.

That are kind of four things.

Kind of first thing: I saw Public Enemies, starring Misters Depp and Bale. The director has done something really incredible. He took the two sexiest, coolest guys in Hollywood, put them in the coolest setting for a film, (Gangsters) and made the dullest thing I have ever seen in my life. Don't go see it. If you have to, watch it online. Just don't support this atrocity by giving it money.

Real first thing: I just watched Let The Right One In. It's this Swedish vampire movie and to say that it is beautiful isn't doing it justice. It is for real the most gorgeous thing. Restored my faith in movies, art, and vampires. Stephenie Meyer can go die.

Second thing: The Dead Weather CD, Horehound. I might just be in love with Jack White and everything he touches, but this album rocks my socks off. The end.

Third thing: I finished American Gods by Neil Gaiman. Totally awesome. It's a great narrative, and you can read into it a million different ways. (English major yay) Personally I'm diggin' the globalization allegory, but it's an incredible barrage of ideas and a wonderful straight story too. Good stuff, this is what art should be.

In conclusion, I thought that what I said about Ms. Meyer was kind of harsh, but then I remembered Twilight and no it's not.

Summer Reading: The best of all possible worlds?

This summer I decided to try and read one book a week. Not going so well. I mean, I've read five, but my book a week diet was silly, cause I've got work and other commitments and video games and sleep and sitting around wondering to myself "What should I do? I'm bored." and apparently no discipline.

Tsk tsk.

But I did knock down like, five in a month and a half. That's pretty good. Bright side, yeah? And I'm halfway done with American Gods by our friend Neil Gaiman. I'm three behind right now, but I'm catching up.

Whoo.

Lolita blew my mind. It is one of the saddest, most beautiful things I have ever read. Gave me chills. Made me think a lot about the nature of love and things like that.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time was cute. Enjoyable and light, but as our friend Milan Kundera tells us, lightness isn't always for the best. Regardless though, I liked it. Very charming. The kid in it likes Sherlock Holmes and made me remember the good times I had with our friend Sir Arthur back in the day. Those stories gave me a taste for surprise endings.

Phantom Tollbooth gave me some memories back that I had lost a while ago. It was punny and about the importance of education and made me feel like a little kid.

Candide now, Candide was heavy, and Mr. Kundera warns about this too. Just a little adventure about this little guy and his adventures. With heavy philosophy and satire in the middle, like a literary jelly doughnut. Our friend Voltaire blasts the overly optimistic or cynical, and asks us all why we don't just cultivate our gardens.

And finally, The Unbearable Lightness of Being. I read it while babysitting the greenroom in Sundin Music Hall and had to try so hard not to cry in front of the piano tuner. This Franco-Czech fellow starts out by letting us know he thinks Nietzsche got it wrong, and things only happen once. And I gotta apologize to my man Friedrich 'cause Kundera makes a whole lotta sense.

So anywho, I'm processing all these ideas and I couldn't help but wonder, once we've accepted that things only happen once, can we really just go and start gardening? Or must we busy ourselves with sowing all the wild oats we've missed along the way?

I've also been watching too much Sex and the City. I should stop doing that.

YouTube gives me nightmares

So I'm stumbling because I can't sleep because certain somebodies are being extra loud and obnoxious and I found this.

Now I can't sleep because I'm scared of Microsoft. I mean, there are only a few steps between this and Terminators.

Maybe Summer Glau will save us...

I used to know this woman

Who had the most beautiful tattoos on the back sides of both of her hands.

So I'm just waitin' for a phone call, and I wish I had some of those skooshy (sp?) stress balls. Stuff is a-piling up again. What else is new. Story of my life. As usual King Friday.

I've been back at South a lot for the Reduced Shakespeare remount. I forgot how much I love theater. And running around in stupid wigs and sweaty dresses that rip and tear as I flail about the stage. Good times. And I learned something: I should do more theater. Watch out Hamline 09-10 season, I'm a come rock you.

Skoosh skoosh.

I've been working on my project for my English class, about Tricksters in Native American Oral Traditions. I picked up that Joseph Campbell Hero With a Thousand Faces thing, because I realized I've read a lot about Campbell's stuff, and never actually his stuff. I gotta tell you, reading about his theories is a lot more fun than actually reading him. Not only do we get his ideas, but we get in depth examples from myths which is cool until the third chapter and I'm like come on dude I get it. He's in a whale. Let's move on.

Skoosh skoosh.

My logic professor convinced me to take Intro to Computer Science next semester. I thought that'd be tight. Hey, I love logic, I love computers, maybe if I like it I could minor. Required for the minor though, Discrete Mathematics. Prerequisite for Discrete Mathematics, CALCULUS: sworn enemy of the galactic alliance. So yeah nvm, FTS.

Maybe I'll get some supernatural assistance and get swallowed by the Calculus whale.

Skoosh skoosh.

I have to get a real job this summer.

I have to write more. I'm getting lazy.

I have to work out more. I'm getting pudgy.

Skoosh skoosh.

Anywho, I used to know this woman that said "anywho" instead of "anyways" and it's stuck with me since seventh grade. Just in writing though. I have yet to actually say "Anywho" out loud.

Weird.

KITTIES!

"It's the little things in life you treasure."

I heard that in a movie somewhere. I wanna say Galaxy Quest...

So lately we've been on this childhood loves kick at Hamline. We just watched Space Jam, which I haven't seen since I was like 8 and watched it every day. And yes, I still know it pretty much line for line. We watched Anastasia a little bit ago too. Sometimes you just gotta let loose and view some quality cartoons knowhatimsayin?

Stress, it's a killer.

I recently turned 19, and that fear of adulthood and responsibility is back. I guess it's like an annual event or something. Anywho, I went to a casino, went on a road trip with some buddies without adult supervision which was super tight until I realized that we were all eighteen or nineteen and technically adults but whatever it still rocked my socks, and I got a happy meal.

My oh my the joys of happy meals. Four or five dollars for a "value meal"? What ever. You wanna talk value? 3.20$ or something will get you a small drink, (which is more than enough, shut up you thirsty rapscalion) a small fry, (Which is more than enough, shut up you salt hungry snake) a burger, (Which is more than enough, we're not pubescent boys anymore and one double cheeseburger will do, shut up fatty) and as if that weren't enough, my happy meal was packing a sweet Spectacular Spider-Man toy (My Doc Ock can stick to windows with his suction cup tentacles. Be jealous).

So I've got all this and a neato kite, which should be taking it's maiden voyage sometime tomorrow, and I go to see my bestest friend in the whole wide world and I have to sit down for a minute because I realize next year I'm going to be 20 years old.

Oh.

Shit.

Two zero. Two decades. I will no longer be a teenager. I have to like, get a real job and stuff. I have to wear TIES and pay TAXES and go to DINNER PARTIES. It's fun when you're younger (dinner parties) because it's like playing pretend. I always liked to pretend to fight dragons, and it's the same thing. Fun in theory but not in actuality. Kinda like communism.

So here's my line of thinking: this next year, I'm going to do every stupid, foolish, reckless thing I can think of that I've always been wanting to do but didn't because it was stupid, foolish or reckless and get it done before I have to start wearing my tie.

Jk, this can only end in tears.

So Brand New lied to me and I will not stay 18 forever, but I made myself promise that I will never again miss a party because I WILL keep them going constantly. Never gonna wake up from this dream about bears dancing in December.

In conclusion, I learned something today. I've got fears and they're multiplyin like I was John Travolta, but 19 or even 20 doesn't mean I still can't get a sweet toy when I go to McDonalds. Childhood loves never die. These things, these small sodas and tiny sack of fries, these cartoons, (Side note, I started watching Avatar: The Last Airbender and it's fantastic. Check that out) they're like the little quirks your lover has that maybe they're a little embarassed about and it kind of annoys you but when you think about it what's really happening is that you're charmed beyond reasoning by it and it's the cutest thing you ever did see and if they ever stopped doing it you'd hate to admit it but you'd love them less like the way they say a certain word sometimes and it just tickles you beyond all reason and you're filled with love and joy.

That's the feeling I got watching Space Jam.

Still got that Basketball Jones.

And that crush on Lola Bunny, but that's a different issue entirely.

Everything I know about Volleyball I learned from Dead or Alive

I feel like video games lied to me.

Anywho, I played Volleyball tonight. A friend of mine wasn't feeling up to the task so I filled her spot on the team. It definitely brought back some memories.

Back in grade school gym class I was the kid that stepped up to the kickball plate and made that one asshole on the other team go, "Okay everybody, move in!" The outfielders would walk forward and be ready to catch my heartfelt kick that no matter how hard I tried, always failed to sail past second base.

Now here comes intramural college Volleyball and it's that same feeling of sickening inadequacy. I'm bouncing around like an enthusiastic idiot ready for a friendly game of V-Ball, when in walks the opposing team, chiseled from marble in their matching muscle shirts boasting their screen printed team name: "Soft Serve" I recognized a few of them from the dining hall. They're the ones with three plates of food and two cups of Powerade.

I flail at the ball, trying in desperation to keep my fun loving spirit aloft, but their muscles ripple with each crushing serve and smack over the net and my arms are red and sore. I'm scared to call "I got it!" because I can already hear them. "Okay everybody, move in!"

All I wanted to do is bust out my Magic cards. If only they would have let me play my Phantom Nishoba in that game, I would have dominated.

So I eventually switched out with this dude and watched the team start to win. Blow to my self esteem #243. But back on the sidelines, cheering on with my buddies and seeing Kyle grin mischievously from behind my blue headband, I am once again glad that I am more than a package of muscle with a powerade in each hand. I've got buddies and Magic cards and Bros to smash. Some people are fit to be fit and serve soft victory from accross a net, I'd rather cheer from the side and dance like an idiot. Yeah, I'm that cool.

To each his own?

I'm not gonna lie, part of me wishes I could be that guy who could kickball so hard it hits the other end of the gym, but we all gotta be honest with ourselves and for me it's much more satisfying to sing Lady Gaga like a fool and do the "Beat that ass!" cheer.

Besides, I don't even look that good in a bikini.

My organs could WHAT?

So my bestest friend in the whole wide world came to visit me on campus the other day. We had some good times, but she told me something that disturbed me to no end.

Apparently if you sleep on your stomach a lot there's a chance your organs could peel away from your spine and you could have severe back problems or your heart could explode.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!

I sleep on my belly every night! It's so hard for me to get to deep dreamy slumber on my back or even my side! I love tummy sleep! It's so comforting and warm! And I get all wrapped up with my blanket on my back and it's so cozy! Now when I sleep all I can think about is if my organs are falling away from my spine and what if my back breaks or I lose organ functions or my heart explodes!

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!

I don't even know if it's true or not. In all honesty it doesn't matter, because even if I learned that it wasn't truth beyond a doubt there would still be the underlying fear that it still could happen! It's really getting to me... And what about the way I sit? I am an avid sloucher, I know for sure that's bad for my back muscles. I crack my back sometimes out of bad habit, that can't be good for joints. What if there's something else about the way I sit or walk or stand or something that could cause stuff to peel away from other stuff or an essential organ to explode! I look at the ground a lot when I walk, what if my eyeballs fall out!?!?!?!?

Anywho, the point of the story is that I'm having trouble getting to sleep because I'm sleeping on my back now... Then again... If my organs could peel away, could they get smooshed into my spine too and impair something? What if my stomach gets smooshed into a pointy bone inside my body and pops and then I'll get filled with bile and ramen and my heart will explode!

And I thought I was stressed about my Logic quiz next week... Good thing I'm worrying about real stuff now...

Dammit Jack!

I love 24. My favorite part is whenever Kiefer Sutherland goes "DAMMIT!" and hits somebody/thing/terrorist.

It's easy to look at the show and point out how crazy unnecessary half of it is. I like to flex my eventually English majored creative muscles and analyze the characters and themes.

Have you seen The Dark Knight? Sorry, stupid question, of course you have. You know how Batman is portrayed in that movie? That's Kiefer in 24, just instead of Gotham City it's America. Whatta BAMF. He's just trying so hard and everyone close to him gets killed by terrorists, but he just loves America so much- he can't stop, even while it destroys his life.

That's something you gotta respect at least on some level. When you believe in some thing or idea so much that you're willing to put your life on the line or on hold or just sacrifice your entire world in order to keep the dream alive. Nonviolence is a principle I've had drilled into me since I was old enough to know what violence was, and because of that I could never bring myself to join the army or such things, but I still have a deep respect for people who belive in something so strongly as to do something like that. Sometimes I wish I did have a strong faith or belief in an idea so far that I could make a sacrifice like that. It's almost like my life is lacking.

I do feel like I could make that Jack Bauer sacrifice for a person. There are certain people I love that I'd be willing to sacrifice everything for, but here's my question: After feeling this strongly about somebody, how are you supposed to just let that person go and live their life? Like Rhi-Rhi...

So the boat is sinking, Kate Winslet needs to take a cue from Frou Frou, (WAT?) and sometimes life is complicated like Facebook.

Anywho, I just wanted to say that I think it's impossible to do that completely. Maybe I won't hold your hand, but when I say friends forever, you can still call me whenever.

Sitting

I am sleepy!

Just got back from Balls Cabaret at the Southern. It was a good night. I read this piece I wrote that was kind of weird, just different from what I usually do. I feel like I rocked it, I got positive feedback.

Anywho, I went to dinner early tonight and sat by myself for a while. I grabbed a pen and a napkin and just started writing. I didn't think I was thinking too hard but what I wrote was pretty deep. Kinda silly but it reminds me of my angsty teenagery philosophysing on what life means. Yep.

Do we see God in everything?
Do we see life in everything?
Do we see ourselves in everything?
Do we see ourselves in God?
Wax poetic on napkins
Wax, spilled poetically in my hand
Burns briefly,
Burns solid once cooled,
stuck to the back of my hand.
Wax, philosophic on my hand
Do I think of myself as permanent?
Will I wash off peel off shed off
Like cool dry wax?
I am my hands,
The Earth does not shed me like old skin
Pretty words in wax
Like seeing rainbows in gasoline
We are not God's wax museum
God on the grassy knoll with the candlestick-
Like Emma, we are clueless.

I dunno. I think it's kinda neat. I enjoy the line about gasoline rainbows, I used to think I came up with it and thought that it was really cool and I was really awesome but then I realized I heard it on an episode of The Simpsons and have been embarassed to put it in my writing. So I might rewrite this piece someday into something a touch more quality than a sitting in the dining hall by myself time filler.

Who knows,

Who knows.

All I can remember is "Je t'aime"

That's a lie. I remember much more of my French. But it's a good line.

I was thinking about my trip to France last year, how it was like the best thing ever, and all the good times we had, and how I felt sick for a bit of it, and how my ears hurt, and how I couldn't hear very well because I think I might have had an ear infection but it went away when I looked at the Venus de Milo's butt, and going to the discotheque with Yoann, and the kickin' French soap operas, and climbing the stairs of Notre Dame, and the view from the top of the Eiffel tower, and every delicious meal except for the one at Yoann's grandma's house which made me want to die a little bit but I had to be polite because it was my host brother's grandma, and the plane rides, and Chicago, and smuggling wine, and running around cobbled streets with my buddies, and feeling at peace, and exploring the most beautiful city in the world, and wanting to listen to cello music.

I feel like that now. Missing the cellos. It's like a violin, but more sensual or something. I dunno, I like to pretend I know things about music.

Anywho, my new favorite thing to do is make Ramen in my collegiate mini-fridge microwave. Boil water on a stove-top? Ha! I'll pop a noodle patty into my special microwavable pokemon bowl I got by sending in the Easy Mac tabs we collected, (I say 'we' because my parents assisted in my acquisition, I don't want to take complete 'I' credit because that'd be rude) make a stop at the drinking fountain around the corner outside my door, pop it into my ever so nifty microwave/mini-fridge unit and three minutes later I've got steaming msg goodness while I watch Conan.

Welcome to college.

It's hard for me to watch Conan without Ramen. Perfect midnight snack? Ramen. Perfect midnight hilarious? Conan O'Brian.

I can't remember a time when Ramen wasn't a huge part of my life. Some of my earliest memories involve my brilliant four-year-old-Paris culinary masterpiece I lovingly called "Egg Hairs" which was... eggs in Ramen. Cause the noodles are like hair. For the eggs. Clever, I know, sometimes I think I was wittier fourteen years ago.

I also remember when the flavor of Ramen I grew up with, "Spicy", could no longer be found in any store. The first time I tried what has since become my new staple, the Maruchan Chili Flavor, was seventh grade. With The Fellowship of The Ring in one hand and a fork in the other, I boldly tried this strange new flavor. I remember thinking it wasn't as good, but now I love it and can hardly even remember the old Smack Ramen Spicy.

Kinda breaks my heart a bit actually. I can't remember this thing that was such a huge part of my life and introduced me to the wonders of an inexpensive sodium heavy diet. I want to taste that flavor someday and have one of those moments, you know? When you get that rush of old memories you haven't strolled through since God knows when and you sigh reflectively because you're just so content but at the same time exhilarated!

Now I'm just thinking about the wet French air that was so cold to my sick ears and that feeling of standing on top of the Eiffel tower and looking out over the whole city and thinking to myself good God is there anything more beautiful, and how I'd trade that memory in a second for just one more bowl of that Smack Ramen Spicy my mom used to make me.

Unreasonable?

Well then, you must not have had that flavor.

Because I Promised You I Would

You see, I'm feeling the New Years thing today.

Cause it's New Years.

I want to be all extra reflective and insightful right? Really meaningful and oh right on Paris, I remember all the good times we had in 2008 let's look on to the year ahead. But truth be told- I can't.

Have you heard that new All American Rejects tune?

Truth be told I miss you,
Truth be told
I'M LYIN.

I don't like that song. I like WOMANIZER by Britney.

Boy, don't try to front. I know just- just... what you are. You are a womanizer. Womanizer. Oh.

But for real. I'm trying to be all remember-the-time but I can't. Dunno why. Maybe it's this sinus headache, maybe it's the nose that's running away from me, maybe it's my throat pain that's currently being smothered by these cherry lozenges, or maybe I'm not lying and truth be told I do miss you. I keep thinking of Sweeney Todd and that song Mr. Depp and that weirdo kid sing about Johanna. Why is that all I can think of is Sweeney Todd? Like... Really?

All the things that happened this past year. This passed year. All I can think about right now is shaving Alan Rickman. Actually that's a lie. I've got a Dashboard Confessional song stuck in my head too. Something about finding hair everywhere and screaming things at me, I don't understand what that guy is saying half the time.

Anywho, these things are in my head and dominating my thoughts on 2008. I'm looking ahead into the '09 (that's what the kids call it) and I am happy I think. I've got the nanowrimo induced foundations of a novel, plans for a comic book collaboration with my buddy, my second semester of college, and MAINE. But yeah, I think it's gonna be a pretty good year. Like when I was seventeen.

So that's my New Years post. I wonder what it's all about?