Let's Play Word-Image Association!

Words: Tom Brady. Goat. Illegitimate children.

Image:

Go ahead and run with it.

Happy Thanksgiving!

No, seriously, Happy Thanksgiving!

and the middle finger goes to...

Take that, Vince Young.

Take that, Tony Kornheiser, Ron Jaworski, and Mike Tirico

Take that, Tennessee.

But more importantly...

SUCK IT NL MVP VOTERS.

SUCK IT NEBRASKA!!! GO BUFFS!

I hate Brett Favre, and I hate myself.

Seriously.

God...damn...it.

Baseball, eye gouging, and other fun diversions

Okay, so, we're not there yet. This isn't YET the NHL Western Conference in 2002 (or 2000...or 1999...), but...it's that same feeling:

"...and he scores. Five minutes gone, and the Red Wings are up 2-0.

...and he scores again. 4-0, and the Avs are in trouble now.

...7-0, and the Avs are...really...in trouble now."

Even that wasn't ROB SMASH!!! level. I didn't break any tables or anything.

I haven't stabbed myself in the eyes and/or ears with, like, shards of glass or anything. Then again, I DID have some plastic shards on hand from around the 8th inning last night when the remote control magically flew out of my hand and shattered against the wall.

Fortunately, Sarah and I managed to successfully reconstruct said remote, and we took this extremely lucky bit as a sign that it was probably time to turn the game off.

Of course, when I move several months from now, I'll find shards of plastic here and there, and that will be a fun reminder.

Random observations and questions

Contrary to popular opinion, directions are not (generally) intended to be ignored.

According to iTunes, I have 3.6 days worth of music on my computer.

For what it’s worth, only 3min 32sec of it is techno.

Query: What ever happened to looking like you were working?

G.I. Joe cartoons are available from Netflix.

I found "The Chronicles of Riddick" starring Vin Diesel to be surprisingly entertaining.

“I like that song. Keep playing that song.”

In all likelihood, my apartment will continue to lack an Xbox 360 for the foreseeable future.

Not that it has much say in the matter. It had an argument with my credit card, and they’re not speaking.

Fantasy football is for losers. I can’t wait for my team to try and not lose on Sunday.

The Rockies making the World Series is less of a sign of the apocalypse (the end time, not the comic book character) than the Seahawks making the Super Bowl.

X-Men Legends II: Rise of Apocalypse features Apocalypse (the comic book character, not the end time) as the primary villain.

No, I did not buy X-Men Legends II: Rise of Apocalypse at Best Buy for $10.

That last statement was a bold faced lie.

I own one Sublime album. The same one everyone else has.

“Duran Duran is neither a Duran nor a Duran. Discuss amongst yourselves.”

The new Doctor Who theme (well...remix) is an exhilarating listen, for those who count the soundtrack amongst their 3.6 days worth of music.

Jesus, I have a lot of Led Zeppelin albums.

The Lord of the Rings is not about World War II.

I recently (as in, an hour ago) purchased the Neverwinter Nights 2 expansion pack, “Mask of the Betrayer” at Best Buy. I will not play it until I have finished my work.

Don’t believe me? Well, it’s guarded by a small teddy bear wearing a sweater with a heart on it. You try to get past that.

Okay, why hasn’t the recent wave of 80’s cartoons retro-revival trend not featured the Care Bears? Is a live action, Michael Bay adaptation soon to be announced?

I’m writing random observations and questions instead of working.

I should probably do something about that.

It occurs to me, once I get to the point where I would rather write random observations and questions than work, it’s kind of hard to go back.

Does anyone still have that stupid email I wrote in college about John Calvin, Edith Wharton, Karl Marx, and Max Weber having a gun fight which may or may not have resulted in me getting an imaginary A in my Soc class?

Subsequent efforts to write dumb emails instead of working never really quite captured the magic.

Ultimately they ended up just being stupid lists of random observations and questions.

Wait…oh, god damn it.

Holy Crap!

The World Series?!?! Seriously?!?!?! Hot DAMN!

Me and Politics, Oil and Water...

First off, GO ROCKIES!

Second, this:

Okay, so, I don't like to bring politics into this blog for a number of reasons. The big ones are, of course, that 1) I REALLY don't like politics, and 2) for the most part, I like talking about politics even less. But I feel like this is worth mentioning.

Now, granted, I have my own views, many of which conflict with the person in question, but with allllll the violence and suffering in the world (and there is a fucking LOT of it), how is it that Al Gore and the UN committee on Global Warming or Climate Change or what have you win the Nobel PEACE prize? How do you win a NOBEL PEACE PRIZE for TALKING about ways to MAYBE get some people to THINK about TALKING about POSSIBLY making some changes to the environment while people are fighting and killing each other?

Okay, contrary to what is apparently popular opinion, I DO care about the environment. Very much. I DO think we need to take care of it because it's the only one we've got...but this? I don't know. Really, this doesn't feel like a good message.

That is, I guess, until Global Warming strikes suddenly and violently:





At which point I will gladly chime in with the cries of "We...w-we didn't listen!"

Sweeeeeeet ROCKtober!

Thirteen innings? THIRTEEN?

HA! HAHAHAHAHA!!!

HA!

Geez. I'm suffering from "ha" fatigue this week. Well, whatever. Rocktober only comes once every 12 years, and usually lasts less than a week.

Suck it, Padres. Go Rox!

Fight CU

ha. ha ha. ha ha ha. ha ha ha ha ha ha.

Ha! Ha Ha! Ha Ha Ha!

HA!!! HAHAHAHA!!!!!


HA!!!!

HA!!!!!!!


HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

Sketches and Stickers

UPDATE: Today I added the all new, all exciting Obscure Sports Weekly Poll!


Okay, so maybe you've noticed the new feature: a living statement of purpose!

YES!

What is is, you ask? What is it for? What DOES IT DO?!?!?!?

Well, it's really just a statement of...you know...purpose. Actually, I kind of envisioned it as a reflect of the week, as in, a reflection of how the week is going.

Or something. Whatever.

Anyway, I'm making it a request thing, so you can add your input on how your week is going. I'm looking to update each Thursday afternoon/evening, so send me your statement of purpose for the week around then, if it feels like it needs to be up there.

Keep rockin.

College Nostalgia Listmania

Okay, and now for a trip down memory lane, as all the good stuff got pulled out and dragged around a bit over the weekend (thanks to some well placed and much appreciated liquid encouragement).

So, in no particular order, I will reminisce on SOME of the finer points (some of which I had forgotten about).

An (*) denotes photographic evidence.

-"You're not a Bob! We're going to call you Rob! Hee hee!"
-"I got gypped by that retard."
-A stuffed tiger playing a soccer video game
-Secret Santa gifts of coal and maps of Canada*
-Election Night, 2000 (ugh)*
-Inauguration Day, 2001 (ugh before noon..."use your artillery!")
-Bryan falling asleep...everywhere*
-Jeff laughing so hard it hurt*
-Tager ordering 3 entrees per meal
-Cher...on repeat...really loud...
-Today's lunch is yesterday's dinner...deep-fried
-Huck Finn's
-steering column minus ignition cylinder equals heartache
-Tequila sunrise*
-parallelogram of doom
-end of quarter page count*
-freezing to (near) death at a Fire game*
-Andy shaving his legs*
-the Vincent Cup (and banana vodka)*
-standing in line for Sox tix
-driving to 'Hawks games with a full car and Bryan in the back...sleeping...
-Johnny Socko
-the all Kate Burton-Judson Council leadership...
-...and I ran the books. yikes.
-Iron-man IM Football
-mixed drink night
-watching the Practice on sunday nights
-Jacob when he was a foot tall*
-Matt playing Civ III...i mean, writing his dissertation
-HALL HOCKEY!!!
-Ned brewing his own beer
-the flow chart
-Jeff: El Presidente
-Mike's Shoeless Joe Jackson/Ray Liotta fantasy baseball team
-March Madness brackets...and being in first place after the first round EVERY YEAR
-Playoff hockey in the lounge (with Giordano's pizza)
-...

What did I forget?

I have like 25 Charisma points (short version)

Well, I am back from Jeff and Katina's wedding (much love, congrats, etc), and for most of the trip this morning, I was imagining the profoundly epic blog post I would write when I got home.

As this would have inevitable involved substantial time and clarity of mind to compose, I soon realized that I would be unable to do the job I wanted. I mean, damn. I am in no shape to write a genuine outpouring of my emotional bliss at spending 48 hours with everyone (though I will pause to apologize for talking the ears off several people...I know how I get, sorry).

So instead, I give you this:
Yes. I took this picture of Bryan trying to take a picture of me trying to take a picture of him.

I even remember taking it.

More later.

More than meets the eye

Yeah. I saw Transformers. I was ready. I expected it.

I thought it would be shit. Why? Michael Bay. Duh.

But...

It was so freakishly entertaining it's not even funny. I laughed and squirmed and almost cried and clapped my hands like I was 5 years old and watching the original animated version.

Wow.

Is this a monumental film which will go down in history as one of the greatest all time cinema classics?

Uh...no. But damn if I don't still have a stupid happy grin on my face from seeing it.

The Apex of Nerdishness: Episode IV: "The Wailing Deth"

I never cease to amaze myself.

My iPod has been all wonky of late, what with the flagrent not playing about 2/3 of the songs I loaded on there. So, the solution: brainwash the fucker and re-up-load everything.

Sweet.

So, while cleaning and packing for Alaska, I decided to burn all of my CD's onto my 200 GB hard drive. In the process, I ran across an old friend, and decided that it deserved a place of honor.

I am, of course, referring to the Icewind Dale video game soundtrack, which is now on my iTunes. Oh yes. Hey, it won some awards, apparently.

Then this happened:

Cowled Wizard 1: "This nerd's power is immense! We must overcome him quickly!"

Cowled Wizard 2 (to Rob): "You will c-c-cease your spell casting and come with us!"

Rob: "You bore me, mageling!"

Rob: *Casts Disintigrate*

Cowled Wizard 2: Will save: (4+3=7; vs 69) Failed!

Cowled Wizard 2: "Aaaaaargh!"

Cowled Wizard 2: Death

Cowled Wizard 1: Casts Magic Missle

Rob: Will save: (20+69=89; vs 15) Success

Rob: Casts Enemies Explode

Cowled Wizard 1: "Grgrrlge..."

Cowled Wizard 1: Death

Rob: "Ha!"

Narrator: Thou hast done well in deafeating the weak-ass douchebag Wizards! You get 2XP, 3 gold, and a cookie.

That was a good cookie.

Voltron. It's craaaaaaaaptastic.

Recently I read an article about parody and satirical treatment of fairy tales, children's stories, etc, and how the current generation of children is actually seeing the parody/satire without ever being exposed to the source material. The article stopped short of examining the impact of the situation (it was, after all, doubling as a movie review of Shrek III in Time...and given that its focus pertained more to the film's admittedly loosely defined genre, it didn't, you know, really review much...of course, it WAS Time), but it did shed light on a fairly relevant issue in the arts and subsequently in academics. Since I came across the article while (whilst?) looking for secondary materials for my lit class, it struck me as a delightfully thought provoking bit which raised plenty of questions regarding the study of satire/parody/etc (a topic to delve into at another time. Maybe I'll throw something up on the Pedagogical Disaster).


Anyway, it got me thinking about older material (films, tv, texts) and their continuing quality/value today. Now, when it comes to the interests of my childhood, namely TV shows and cartoons, I'm a bit of a romantic. I own the Transformers (original animated) Movie, the G.I. Joe movie and a number of TV episodes of the same, and Mike and Liz where kind enough to get me the entire first season of He-Man on DVD (65 episodes!), all of which I have viewed numerous times because they kick ass. A lot of these shows and similar such things are kept alive by two distinct forces and a subsequent third, complementary one (though in some cases it stands by itself rather nicely): 1) DVD re-releases of the shows, 2) references, parodies, and kitschy merchandise (seen those Thundercats t-shirts? seriously.), and 2.5/3) our romantic (and thus heavily biased) memories of enjoying such things years ago.


There's nothing wrong with this. I still clap my hands and laugh like a child whenever Prince Adam turns into He-Man (come on! with the music and the sword and the bad animated lightning?!?! what's not to love!!). I also find bits of dialogue from the G.I. Joe Movie to be positively epic:


Roadblock: "I don't need to see clear, to fracture your rear!"


(later)


Cobra Commander: "I'll be your eyessss!" *pause as Roadblock picks him up. CC points where they need to go* "Ruuuun!"


As for the (Original) Transformers Movie: Robert Stack, Eric Idle, Orson Wells, Leonard Nimoy...need I say more? Plus, having taken place in 2005, it's now something of a historical period piece.

The bottom line is that this stuff is silly. All kinds of hella silly. But that's okay since it's still very entertaining and resonates nicely with my memories of childhood. Hooray.

But not everyone gets off so easy, I guess. I always enjoyed Thundercats, and it was fun to watch a few episodes, but I lost interest after a couple discs and broke off our brief but passionate Netflix relationship. Still, it was nice, and we had some good times, but TC didn't offer the kind of long term enjoyment and stability that I like out of my DVD...uh...serials.

So I decided to try something else. Unfortunately, that something else was Voltron.

Don't get me wrong, Voltron has, I think, always played a distant also-ran to most of the other early-to-mid Eighties fare, and now it's fairly clear why that is the case. I'm no expert, but I've watched some anime, both good and bad, and the cultural differences are actually very interesting to follow (in regards to character motivation, narrative structure and pacing, etc). I'll add that I am certain (and in some cases this is actually documented) that a lot of things change in translation. Fine. I am also familiar with concept of editing for content, and children's television in the early eighties was, if anything, known for the constant tension involving censorship and Standards and Practices, etc.

But come on.

There is no translation issue, here. There is no issue with narrative conventions. Oh no. Apparently, in the world of Standards and Practices, there is editing for content, then censorship, then Nazi book burning, and then, somewhere down the road, there is Voltron. I mean, grappling with an enemy over a sword, then abrupt cut to the next scene with a quick voice over about winning the fight? That's intense. That's, like, Batman and Robin intense. The show's introductory timeline doesn't make any sense. Nothing, in fact, makes any sense.

Except the theme song, which promptly embedded itself in my brain. It's delightful...and probably the reason the show was ever popular in the first place. Thinking back to circa 1984, I can definitely see why the complete incoherence of the plot didn't bother me. I was 3.

Giant robot+exciting theme song=solid gold.

Which brings me back (kind of) to the whole issue of parody vs. source material. In some cases, the parody is better, Voltron being one of those cases (Robot Chicken comes to mind, and Family Guy at some point, I think). And that is...crazy.

Anybody have more examples?

Happy 4th!

Happy 4th of July, people!

Unending VI: Ending

And....I cried. God...damn...it.

Unending V

Oh, the irony! Growing old and dying while the rest of the universe stands still!

Woe is me!

I should have never played God!

Unending IV

A TIME DILATION FIELD?!?!? SAMANTHA CARTER, YOU CRAZY BITCH!

Unending III

Okay, finally, in Splinter Cell: Chaos Theory (which i friggin got for $8)...you get a fucking COMBAT KNIFE! Yeah, it's wicked. AND you can hack into computers with your super futuristic binoculars! Damn! Of course, if you've had a few drinks, it's kinda hard to play the hacking mini-game...so it goes a little more like:

"Wait...no...that's it..."

"The entry code?"

"No! It's the melody to Funky Town!" *giggles*

Oh! Oh shit! IT'S STARTING!! WOOOOOOOT!!!

GOIN OUT WITH A BANG!! THERE'S A TAGLINE!

Unending II

Things overhead in an episode of Thundercats (damn you, Netflix!):

"Hear the magic, hear the roar! Thundercats are loose!"

"Oh my goodness Wilycat, look!"

"Rules are only meaningful if people follow them. Otherwise...they're just...words."

"Their evil ploy backfired on them!" "Ha ha! Yeah!"

"Go, gentle Brute-men, return to your simple lives and peaceful ways!"

Unending

Things I ponder as I get hammered in preparation for the Stargate series (grand) finale:

I am totally unnerved by the sexual tension between the animated characters in the esurance tv ads. I mean, seriously. Will they hook up? Won't they? Is she using him as an advertisement? Is he using her for shady car insurance quotes? What's the dynamic when he's the coach of the one player hockey/basketball/baseball/baseketball team and she's the star player? How do they celebrate defeating the evil robotic forces of the opposing team/insurance companies? What the fuck is going on here? Seriously.

At least they're not sex-tease selling home equity loans.

Imitation

Okay. Had to get that last one off the top. Not much more content here.

(What? I'm at work! I shouldn't even be typing THIS!)

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It takes all kinds, I guess. How very postmodernly meta something.

Nerd Power

Just got the ball rolling on a teacher blog/discussion board/forum/chat room/speak-easy...and I feel...intense nerdly satisfaction...

If you want in and I didn't email you, let me know!

Gentlemen, start your -ism's

Two things have been on my mind of late (as in, you know, this morning).

First, my God...NASCAR is huge. I mean, really friggin huge. I knew before I moved here how big of a deal it is, but I didn't fully appreciate the overwhelming cultural influence it exerts on everyone around here. For example, I have students who, rather than soccer, baseball, football, etc, have always been into racing. That alone would be (and has been) a very interesting cultural shift for me, but I also happen to live just a couple miles from Lowe's Motor Speedway. Now, i drive by the speedway everyday to and from work. It's a little ways off of I-85, which I usually take, but it's right on NC-29, which I use to avoid rush hour traffic. It's an impressive structure to say the least. What I didn't appreciate fully was HOW impressive the track, the surrounding lots, and the fans actually are. The Coca-Cola 600 is this weekend, and it might as well be the World Cup or the Olympics (having attended both, I can verify the similarity). People started setting up RV's 2 WEEKS AGO. Now, there are several miniature cities set up all over the countryside around the speedway, and traffic is a nightmare (so much so that there is a sign on I-85 that warns about "Race Traffic"...which sounds amusingly awkward). For the first time, I actually paid a little attention to the parking lot signs. Of course, by parking lots I mean giant grassy fields which accommodate dozens (probably hundreds) of campers and RV's. The lots are labeled alphabetically. I drove by Z and AA yesterday evening. Yes. The entire alphabet is used...and then starts over. Meaning, as far as I can tell, there are 26+ gypsy cities set up in the surrounding countryside. Amazing.

I'm thinking of establishing both a new word and new ideology. I think I'll call it "disdain-ism": a mode of thought wherein the individual ascribes to a constant, passive feeling of disdain for his surroundings (primarily, the institution of employment). Nothing new, really, but it sounds fancy-ish.

Why do I need a new ideology? Oh, it's mostly because I have TO WORK ON MEMORIAL DAY. Yes, in academia, national holidays and other federal mandates/laws/etc. only count if they have a direct benefit for the institution. For cryin' out loud! I work for the friggin State of North Carolina and I don't get a national holiday off? Come on!

Disdain-ism is born.

Treason!

Way to go, Yahoo.com. Just tell the terrorists how to win.

Three random thoughts for the day [Feat. a bonus 4th thought!]

1) When I speak seemingly random, meaningless phrases like "Follow directions," what I REALLY mean is "Don't bother following directions. It won't fucking piss me off or anything."

2) So, if you've got some down time, pick up some of the Dresden Files novels by Jim Butcher. It's good shit. Wizards and noir and detective work and vampires and other crazy ass shit, all in Chicago. Good times. Plus, Butcher's Chi-town geography is pretty good, so as a former resident of the South Side, I was amused by the scene which featured raining frogs...in Jackson Park. I was NOT amused, however, when the titular character visited a bookshop (which resembles a cross between Powell's and 57th Street books) down the street from the campus of the University of Chicago... in LINCOLN PARK. Sigh. No one's perfect, I guess.

3) I ate a turkey reuben for dinner. It was fucking amazing, especially with the mango smoothie (w/ whipped cream, people!). The smoothie was a must, since it's getting all "summer in the south" here.

BONUS: I'm employed for the summer! I have an office job, and after 4 days of work I haven't been fired! Huzzah!

Spiderman 3: The Dashing of Hopes

Okay. Well. I saw Spiderman 3 yesterday. I waited until today to comment, and I'm glad I did. There is perhaps no greater (recent) example of the "really want it to be good because it SHOULD have been so good" syndrome which I have suffered mightily from in the past (see Star Wars: Episode I...or see it six times in the theatre, like I did).

But this movie is not so good. It really should have been. At first there were just a couple of scenes I didn't like:

1) The goofy musical interlude/montage THING leading into the über-ridiculous Moulin Rouge/The Mask style dance number. I mean, come on. Seriously. WHAT...THE...FUCK? That's about 10 minutes of my life I'll never get back.

2) The cheesy news anchor guy announcing the occurrence of the situation that leads to the final battle. In addition to this, the wretched, overblown, melodramatic dialogue that went with it: "This could be the end...of Spiderman." I shit you not.

Honestly, at first I thought those were the two blemishes on an otherwise okay movie. The rest was exciting, it was cool to see Venom and Sandman onscreen...action was good...but really, it's just too busy. It's not as cool as it SHOULD have been since it didn't get the sort of solid treatment that the stuff in the first two did. I like having multiple villains, but this fell sort of flat. Worth watching just to finish off the trilogy, I guess, but man, weakest movie of the three.

But, frankly, I'll probably buy it. I do have Episodes I, II, and III, which combine for just under 2 hours of worthwhile movie, on DVD. Ugh.

Sports mania!

Well, with the Avs missing the playoffs, the Nuggets getting bounced by the Spurs in five, and the routine mediocrity of the Rockies...

THANK GOD FOR THE NFL DRAFT!!!

Am I right, people?

So for Draft Saturday, a day when, surely, I had better things to be doing, I sat there in the bar at Dave and Buster's with John and his friend Drew, drank Coors Light, and pondered with wonderment the fascinating obsession with basically a nationally (poorly) televised, "pro" version of "picking teams" on an elementary school playground.

We stayed for the whole first round. Yes. The longest ever first round of the longest ever draft. We stumbled out of there almost 6 1/2 hours after sitting down. That, my friends, is dedication.

Or idiocy. Or a nice mix of both.

I have a number of lame excuses for staying the whole time... 1) we said we'd stay for the first round...I mean, you can't back out of something like that 2) our teams (Broncos and Panthers) both had trades that changed the draft order, and 3)...yeah, I don't have a three.

Regardless, we had fun. And Coors Light. Also, D&B's actually does have a cocktail drink called:

"The Schizzle"

I shit you not. Try it out. And forget what a nerd I am.

Solemnity and Levity

Well, it's awfully hard to find the words. I don't know where to start or what to talk about, and I certainly don't want to harp on things to gain credibility or to sell sensationalism. So, I'll keep it simple and move on. I have to smile and laugh, since that's how I cope, but I'll get the serious out, too, because I do, in fact, have that side as well. Frustration, fear, sadness, and every other emotion are running pretty high down here, since Blacksburg is close enough to have pretty extensive connections to students, faculty, staff, etc. I talked with each of my classes for a few minutes about how something like this feels, recalling my own feelings right after Columbine. I'm both extremely moved and severely put off by some of the things that have been said around campus over the last couple days since many comments have interspersed genuine feelings of empathy and emotion with asinine, even offensive jabs at this country and the American way of life (to put it broadly), and that doesn't even include the gun control issue. It's an ivory tower, and even now my love/hate relationship with it continues.

But, there's no need to rant as it never tends to help resolve anything. But Tuesday and today I couldn't help noticing the shadow this casts. It comes in various forms, like looking around campus at large groups of people. More frightening, though, is looking at the open door of my classroom (i always leave it open) and wondering, to myself suddenly and completely without warning or explanation, "Could I get there in time? Could I close and lock the door fast enough? There's no windows, where can my students go?" It's...odd.

So. Levity.

Looking at my blog it's really a study in white, bland, text on a page minimalism (the format, of course) juxtaposed with my compulsive obsession for inserting color photos in my entries. What does that even mean?

...okay, I'll admit, I haven't got the levity part right now. I'm sorry this is a downer, and next time I promise we'll be back to the lighter side. I hope everyone is well and my thoughts are with all of you.

Dire straights

Mega props to Geoff for pointing out my old fogey-ness. Very timely, actually. Though, to be fair, I kept saying "friggin" because I am, in a move that is somewhat out of character, trying to keep the rating on this blog a shade above an R. That's not easy to do, especially considering the number of F bombs I tend to drop on a daily (well, hourly) basis. I have a horribly foul mouth.

Anyway.

Two points come of this.

First, now that my week is over, I can look back and comment on last weekend. I went up to Chapel Hill and got to meet Sarah's brothers, both of whom were awesome. This was a good time. Seriously. It was great to finally get to meet them and hang out. We have a lot of the same interests and we got along very well. I had a great time all weekend.

Second, I learned a sad truth about myself.

For much of my life, I have used the term "rockin", or, more formally, "rocking" to describe a state of mind or being. It's also a handy verb, e.g. "So and so ROCKS!" I frequently part company with those I care for with an earnest encouragement to "Keep on Rocking in the Free World." Also, I like rock music. A lot. And, in a way, I have always, at least in some sense, believed that I, in fact, "rock" to a certain degree.

Well, bad news. I don't rock. ...as much, or at all.

This falls in line with the old fogey nature of my last post. I had never looked at the world from a "damn kids and their rock music" perspective before. Well, all that ended when I first played Guitar Hero I and II this past weekend.

I was terrible. Really, I'm, seriously you guys, terrible. God awful. It was lame to the extreme.

For someone who played a fucking (there, I said it) stringed instrument (for seven fucking years, I might add), and also considers himself a legitimate gamer, it was perhaps the most wretchedly pathetic performance imaginable. Fortunately, it was just Matt, Mark, and myself (though it was a little embarrassing to flop like that in front of two people I barely know), or I might have shamed myself beyond all reason.

I still shiver at the memory.

So, ultimately, I am not a Guitar Hero.

I hope and pray that this does not, however, hurt my chances of becoming a Jukebox Hero...and anyone who's been to The Pub with me will know that I can drop quarters into a jukebox with the best of them (and play the same three songs every time...Panama, Rock n' Roll, and When the Levee Breaks).

Still, my feeling about my own "rockin" nature has, yes, turned Cold as Ice. Though I'm not really willing to sacrifice anything.

Hot Blooded? Not so much, it would seem.

And furthermore, I promise NOT to threaten to take Jeff Prisoner of Love, especially not at his wedding.

Insanity springs (rolls) eternal

Okay, seriously. What the hell is wrong with people?

Call me old fashioned. When I was a kid, there was such a thing as discipline, or, as I liked to say, the ever-present threat of a severe smackdown from my parents should I cause problems. Of course, the running joke on much of television these days is the whole "time-out" thing, as in, if you talk back to your folks, are out of control in public, lie, or, apparently, instigate mass ethnic cleansing one too many times, you're slapped with a time out. You sit in the corner.

Now, as a punishment for today's ADHD younger generation, sure, maybe that works.

But it's something else that bothers me...

Back in my friggin day, it was a BAD thing to run around out of control in the supermarket...remember?!?!?!? How do we solve this problem? Well, you got a smackdown. Hell, you got a time out. You get SOMETHING that attempts to reinforce the idea that running around a public place like a store is potentially dangerous for any number of reasons.

Not anymore. Instead, it seems we not only tolerate this behavior, but encourage it and ENABLE it by outfitting children with the tools to move faster with less control!


Yes! Let's put friggin' roller skates in their friggin shoes!


Wow, can't imagine why no one thought of this before now. The benefits far outweigh the potential hazards.


The reason I bring up the supermarket, though, is that seems to be the only place where kids wear these things. That's the only place I've ever seen them. I kid you not. The whole lights in the shoes thing? That was dumb. Dumb, but potentially harmless. This?

"Oops. Clean up on aisle three. Some kid on skates ran into an old woman and FRIGGIN SHATTERED HER HIP!"


Actually, I'm the kind of person that presents a delightful target for such things. Mostly because I don't expect kids up to 12-13 years old to be zipping up and down the aisles of Harris Teeter with no regard and no mercy for others.

As a society, we are doomed. And don't even get me started on my job.

Oddyssey III: Final Destination II: The Last Final Stop at the End of the Final Journey, Gold Edition

Okay. So, now my little journey has been over for more weeks than it lasted, and I haven't finished the narrative. Which is fine, I guess. It's not that interesting, really. Still, I have other stuff I want to get to so let's get it out of the way.

When I landed in Grand Junction some weeks ago now, I found that, as I had feared, my bag was unavailable at the baggage claim.

Sadness.

But, I didn't mind that much. Afterall, my bag deserved its own fun little adventure. Figuring it had landed the night before, I walked over to the United Express counter to inquire after its fate.

25 minutes later, someone showed up at the counter to deal with customers (for an airport, albeit a small one, serving a general populace of approximately 100,000 people, you'd never suspect Walker Field Regional Airport to be as ass backwards as it is).

Turns out, surprise surprise, my bag didn't make it to GJ after all. Of course, I figured it was probably still in Denver. Oh no, that would make sense.

My bag decided it would rather hit the slopes than join me on my trip, so it hopped the plane to Eagle, CO. Now, for those of you who are not familiar with the geography of Colorado, Eagle is a town in the mountains about midway between Grand Junction and Denver. Geographically, my bag had travelled about half way to where it needed to go. Unfortunately, in air travel terms, it pretty much went 180 degrees the wrong way. Eagle, like GJ, has a regional airport, which means that, yes, it's essentially a dead end. There are no flights from either place to other regional airports. Way to go, United. The excuse was that the label had been misread (some other bag ended up there too). Naturally, this would make perfect sense if the airport codes were similar, and since GJT and EGE do share a common letter, I have to assume that was the cause. Good one, guys.

But hey, I was on vacation. I ended up getting my bag at THE END OF THE NEXT DAY, nearly 48 hours after I was originally supposed to land. Still, I was at home, so it was no big deal.

What WAS a big deal, apparently, was the massive storm in the mountains that diverted all plans bound for Aspen to Grand Junction. This was amusing to no end. Baggage claim was full of angry Aspenites (peroxide bleached hair, fur jackets, absurdly expensive hand bags, etc) all whining into their cell phones in that annoying valley girl tone:

"Uhhh, we're, like, in this awful little town called, I don't know, Grand Junction? Oh my god, it's SUCH a hick town. I hope they didn't, like, lose my bag. My feet hurt SO much. I just hope they didn't lose the bag with my hiking boots, because these heels are KILLING me. I guess they, like, charted a bus or something? It's so stupid..."

And so on. This was, to say the least, intensely gratifying, in a way. It must suck to be those people.

And that was it. GJ was great, played with dogs, shot some birds, and relaxed. Chicago was also great, crashed at Mike and Liz's and played waaaaay too much Wii...made a Wii Mii. That was sweet. Then, Sarah surprised me at the airport in Charlotte and stayed with me for a few days, which was wonderful. So, in a sense, I had two weeks of break.

And then things went to crap. But that's another story.

Odd-yssey, Part II: The Return

*Cheesy announcer voice*:

In our last episode…

Anyway. Did I mention it was pouring rain in Charlotte? I got back to my car in the long term parking lot, having walked through the deluge, and drove around in circles until I found my way out of said long term lot…three hours after I parked in it.

This is all happening around rush hour, by the way.

But, whatever. I’m on vacation!

My drive home was just like a Navy Recruiting video. The only differences being: 1) Instead of a group of Navy Seals in wetsuits it was me in my rain soaked jacket, 2) instead of a tactical combat raft crashing through the surf (heh…I typed “serf” the first time) it was my explorer crashing through the rain and wet pavement on I-85, and 3) Instead of a Godsmack tune (“Awake”) dubbed over as a non-diagetic soundtrack element, I was singing along to the CD. So…really it was nothing like a Navy Recruiting video.

But, if you have the necessary Fortitude (DC: 35), you can imagine me singing along at the top of my lungs:

“I’m aliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive, for yooooooou, I’m awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaake…”

Had to swing by the CVS for some contact lens stuff (my kit was in my bag…still is, incidentally) and a frozen pizza, and then headed on home.

Didn’t do much, really…had some DiGiorno and played a bit of Jade Empire…because I’m only on my fourth play-through.

And then…

Got to the airport and MY GOD the line for security was long…finally, I was up to the front and…YES! Specialized screening! They put me in this…thing...which looked like a cross between an upright Jacuzzi and some kind of Star Trek transporter thing…and it…uh…blew jets of air on me. I think this was to analyze the air for explosives or such materials. (Apparently it's called a Trace Portal Machine, or a Puffer...)

That was odd. And then through the metal detector, and then stopped in the big glass box until they were ready to…*gulp*…oh, never mind, just going to take samples from your shoes and bag. Okay, you’re good.

I wonder about that, though. I mean, you take the little wipe thing and rub on the inside of someone’s shoe and find nothing "bomb" related, but does it check for other things too?

“Okay, Mr. Smith…no explosives in the conventional sense, but you might want to pick up a tube of tough acting Tinactin! BOOM! Ha ha!! …now get out of here before we kill you.”

And everything was smooth after that. Until I got to GJ…

Odd-yssey, Part 1

So, I’m in Colorado now, a day later (yesterday) than anticipated (Thursday night), but there it is.
Why a day later, you ask? Well, even if you didn’t ask, I’ll tell.

*Music plays*

…without singing, even.

*Music Stops*

The truth is, Chicago O’Hare International Airport and I go way back. Waaaaaaay back.
My first experience with O’Hare was not actually with the airport, but rather its namesake.




The O’Hare I knew was Edward "Butch" O’Hare, a WWII fighter pilot (and Medal of Honor winner).===>



It turns out that I was a bit of a nerd as a kid (not that much has changed, really) and some of my heroes (second only to John Elway) were American WWII fighter pilots like O’Hare, "Jimmy" Thach (of Thach Weave fame), and Pappy Boyington, first of the American Volunteer Squadron in China (Flying Tigers) and later of the Black Sheep squadron in the Pacific.

<==Boyington was probably my favorite, for a number of reasons. First, I was very interested in the Flying Tigers, since they were flying crappy old P-40 Warhawks before the US entered the war, and somewhat keeping up with the vastly superior Japanese fighters. Boyington was also cool because he coped with high-g turns by tensing the muscles in his neck (fighting physics with force of will).

Next, the Black Sheep!! (Who probably shouldn’t be judged by the TERRIBLE 70’s TV show, "Baa Baa Black Sheep", which, in my limited viewing experience, focused more on tight fitting uniforms and sappy 70’s comedy than, you know, dog fighting and such. Note that Robert Conrad doesn't really look like Pappy...as much, or at all.)

They flew my FAVORITE fighter, the Chance-Vought F4-U Corsair.

Yes, and many delightful hours of Aces of the Pacific on my old IBM 386. Gooooood times.

But I digress.

My ACTUAL history with O’Hare is more, you know, airport related. The only travel issues I’ve had have always been in someway related, like the time we sat on the plane for FOUR hours in Denver because thunderstorms were FORECAST around Chicago (skies were clear, as I recall). Also, the only time a flight has been cancelled (like, completely, totally, entirely wiped from the face of reality) was when Delta decided to cancel my flight from Salt Lake to Chicago for unknown reasons (though that might just be because they suck).

But this one was good. I was flying from Charlotte to Denver, no stop in Chicago, nothing. Except…oh yes…the plane was COMING from Chicago. And I’m told that there was a delay…because the roof was leaking. Oh yes. So, at first it wasn’t an issue, since I had a 2 hour layover in Denver. Of course, according to the surly woman behind the counter, it didn’t matter, and she didn’t know if it would work, so she tossed my bag check tag aside and walked away to help someone else, leaving me standing there looking like an ass for about 5 minutes.

That was cool.

Then the guy came over and helped me out, and said I was still okay. Cool, bag checked, things are good. Grabbed a sandwich, and hung around. THEN, the flight gets delayed again, screwing me totally. So, I was faced with the choice of getting to Denver and sleeping at DIA, or going home to my apartment, sleeping in my own bed, and flying out in the morning then getting to GJ at about the same time.

Tough one.

Anyway, I didn’t mind that much. I’m on vacation. The only time it got dodgy was when the line for the counter curved around a bit, meaning it was forming at a right angle behind me. Suddenly, this dip shit turns around and says… "You know, the end of the line is over there." I’ve been standing behind this guy for 10 minutes, which I tell him. Fortunately, one of the people behind me said that I had been there, and it was okay. But the guy gives me a look and doesn’t say anything. Now, usually, no matter what kind of mood I’m in, I won’t lash out at someone or raise my voice and use profanity (with people I don’t know, that is). I like to be civil. Seriously. But I was this close to letting fly at this guy. He had his wrangler jeans and boots and leather briefcase…so he’s one of THOSE assholes, some self-important prick from Greeley. It would have been…bad. Still, things were fine, the lady was nice, and set me up with a flight in the morning.

Of course, my checked bag…that was something else…better finish this later.

Back from the coast...

And wow, what a time.

Here's some photos. The view from the Inn:



The famous Cape Hatteras Lighthouse:




Sunset on Pamlico Sound:



And that's all for now.

relativity

okay fine, 2:42pm...ish!

It GLOOOOOWS!!!

Wow, lots of stuff. Week's end, sort of, emailing people, catching up, grading...good stuff. Fortunately, I can post random, meaningless thoughts whenever I want...mostly for my own edification, thanks to the flickering, enthralling power of the internet! Wheeee!

I need more coffee (he said at 2:42pm EST).

Public Service Announcement

Okay, this week I am catching up on grading and emailing, so all of you who haven't heard from me in a while should hear from me in the next couple days!

See, I've said it, now I HAVE to do it!

fine tuning

It has been brought to my attention that my comments page thing is only available to registered users. This has been corrected. Anyone may now post comments. The only rule is that, while you are encouraged and now enabled to talk shit, anyone talking shit totally has to claim it.

Not that I'll ever be able to put together a convincing rebuttal or anything.

But seriously, I do like to know who's commenting!

Rock on.

Minutiae

A number of things occurred to me today.

1) Led Zeppelin, by far my favorite band, induces a powerful emotional response that I often find myself incapable of enduring for extended periods of time. While some may use this as ammunition to attack my masculinity (I don’t, but that may be because I am not really in the habit of attacking my own masculinity), I feel that “induces a powerful emotional response that I often find myself incapable of enduring for extended periods of time” sounds much more manly than, say, “causes me to cry like a little girl.” This is not the onset of sadness, so much, as overwhelming metaphysical assault launched upon my spirit, inducing an overpowering sense of bliss.

Actually, it brings to mind a Venture Bros. quote, as most things do, recited in my very best Patrick Warburton voice:

“Come on! It’s about love and loss…yeah…and Hobbits…IT’S A METAPHOR!”

2) I find myself amused by the question “Why can’t you use your evil powers for good?” There are a number of reasons for this. First, if someone has an “evil” power, I imagine it would be difficult to use it for good, if we are to take the classification of “evil” as absolute. Second, this question occasionally pops into my head when my colleagues refer to me as the “Grammar Nazi,” and then I quickly use said “evil” power to 1) make my previous point, and 2) think to myself that I am actually more concerned with mechanics than grammar, which would, of course, lead others to then brand me the “Semantics Nazi.”

Actually, I think if I DID have “evil” powers, I think I would want to be an invincible, if hideous, time monster whose sole purpose to punish those that dare to disrupt the timeline======>


I just kind of like the idea of kicking ass and taking names in the whole “ground trembles and walls, earth, and unsuspecting bystanders are forever pulled into a gaping emptiness, never to return” thing. Though the weakness against water thing would probably be pretty annoying, as would being defeated by something called the “Water Sword.”

3) Speaking of relative “evil” and the definition thereof…Jeff, I’m thinking of teaching the “Miner Method” or the “Miner Evasion,” or whatever you choose to label it, in my argument class. Basically, this will consist of taking the most difficult to define or relative term in the conversation and posing the following question:

“But what IS ________ really???”

You will, of course, receive mad royalties should they ever materialize.

4) Causal analysis?
-Odd impulse: desire to watch more anime.
-Action: order anime on Netflix.
-Result: bizarre addiction and overload of hackneyed plot elements.
-Prime hackneyed plot element: 15 year old Japanese school girl transported to mythical feudal Japan/China/Korea-like world, meets and falls in hopeless, tragic love with stoic, dashingly handsome warrior/celestial guardian/half-demon with purple hair.

(no photo found at risk of embarrassment)

So, aside from all that time filling stuff, I plan on cleaning the place up (my apartment) and maybe taking some pictures. Now that I know how to post pictures, I’m ruined. Seriously. As if you hadn't noticed. Until then, I’m off to Chapel Hill for the weekend.


More Germany pics (only a few, they’re, like, 20 megs each. That’s how kick ass my camera is):

Heidlelberg, in town looking up at the castle:

Okay, in town, same Berg, and then up at the castle. It was starting to rain, so the rest of the gardens and retaining wall didn't turn out too well, though the one on the right is okay:

status report 1

okay. alive, and still kicking. just getting over a cold, still feeling stuffed up, which means I sound all nasal and ridiculous while feeling pretty healthy. sheesh.

As far as the rest of my life, I've actually made some effort to move in to my apartment which i have lived in for nearly six months. i bought a couple bookshelves, unpacked some books, hung a picture, and bought a floor lamp. Finally, I get to upgrade from 85% moved in to about, oh, 88%. This is a big day. I've also started cooking more. Hooray for me!

On the down side, the dryers in my building have gone from $1 per load to $1.25. This means an additional quarter per, of course, thus necessitating a trip to the friggin bank to actually withdraw money in quarters. Nice. While doing so, and kind of feeling like an idiot, I was chatting with the friendly teller lady, and mentioned the reason for the $20 in quarters, which led to this sort of odd discussion of how she had a washer and dryer "right down the road"...but they weren't worth the trouble to use...or something, followed by a knowing sigh and nod from her older co-worker teller lady. So, my laundry has gotten me into yet another awkward conversation about someone's domestic issues, which is one of the reasons I stopped talking to people in the laundry room years ago (at my old place in Hyde Park I was often asked to open detergent bottles for old ladies, got to hear about dead husbands...etc.).

Good times.

Hey! Pictures from Germany!

Castle Colmburg, Dec. 26th















Nuremburg Christmas Market, Dec. 22nd














Rothenburg, Dec. 26th



More later!

It has...RETURNED!