Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Looking Up

Ok, so I have not felt like blogging at all lately. So to make up for it, this is going to be the mother of all blog entries, full of anecdotes and philosophy and a road trip and links and pictures. Seriously, this blog entry is going to start giving birth to other blog entries. I hope you can appreciate this.

Some people who call themselves the Provo Late Knights came upon my confessions blog and invited me to join their ranks. My friend Ryan from efy is in the group, and he vouched for me, so they let me in. What they do is make movies, which you can see here if you have Quicktime 7 (which comes with iTunes). They are mockumentaries about life in Provo after midnight. We filmed one last week that introduced me as their nemesis, but you will have to wait a week or so before they get it all edited. I'm excited for the release, and also to start writing the next one.

Ryan also invited me to the Sundance film festival with him and some cool friends from his ward. We saw Gwyneth Paltrow. I was surprised that she is actually a lot more beautiful than normal people. It was weird. I'd always assumed that movie stars would look less glamorous in person, but not so. We saw seven short films (one of which was Gwyneth's directorial debut), and then they had a Q&A session afterward with all the directors. I asked a question about the lighting to one of the other directors, whose film was better than Gwyneth's, and wasn't funded by Vogue Magazine. We also had some delicious pizza. Man, that was some good stuff. Ryan is a really superior person. He has been going through some tough times lately with the passing on of our mutual friend Carly, but in my own times of turmoil I have really appreciated his involving me in his life. He's a good friend.


My choir went to St. George last weekend. It was such a great experience. We went and saw the new Joseph Smith movie that replaced Testaments. That movie is the best the church has ever produced. I cried through the whole thing. I want to go see it again. Anyone who reads this and is close enough to Salt Lake City or St. George to go watch it, please do. It will change you. Also, I became pretty good buddies with my friend Brett, since we roomed together. The two of us had a great time with our car buddies, Shelley (my efy co-worker) and Jessica (went to Wicked with me). Our entire choir was more bonded afterward.


We had auditions after our concert this last week, and my friend Snake from the ward tried out, and he made it in. He won't be able to come to our Wednesday practices, so it's my job to tape record the practices and then do practice with him one-on-one at his house. I'm excited to work with him; he's a really great guy.

I asked a girl on four dates tonight. Her name is Natasha and she's in my ward. She's in a marriage prep class and has an assignment to go on four dates with the same person. She was telling me this while I was playing bartender at my friend Mike's birthday party, mixing her a drink (non-alcoholic, of course). So as I was leaving the party, I suavely said, "Hey, Natasha, if you need any help with your homework, just call me."

"Did you have a specific class in mind?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"OK! I'll call you."Her enthusiasm was accompanied by a warning that this is quite the commitment and might require a lot of work and planning and time. I guess there are some tough stipulations. Meh. She seems like a cool girl, and what the heck else am I going to do with my weekends?

Well, besides the fact that Kelly stopped me at church and asked if it would be all right if we went on the date she accidentally stood me up on before Christmas. So I'm also going to do that next week. I'll probably let you all know how it goes.

I ordered pizza from Little Caesar's today. 25 pizzas. They're for my ward skating party this Saturday. I'm excited for it.

I clipped my nails for like an hour on a bus ride last week. I got them all short and perfect. Now I have an ingrown pinky nail. I always wondered why you can't get an ingrown fingernail, but now I know that you can. It's starting to turn green and I keep bumping it on stuff. OOOOOWWWW!

There's a job fair I'm going to tomorrow. I need a new job. Desperately.

Tomorrow night after choir practice I'm going to go with my new friends Chris and Garrett to watch them film something. They're going to shout in the square on campus, things like "I'm wearing women's underwear" and "I don't wear deodorant." The thing is, they're two of my favorite people in this ward. Very intelligent and aware of people and of current events. I could see myself living with those two. They are really cool. I try to hang with them whenever we have big ward functions. Garrett is the one who wrote about my fireside in his blog. Chris has set up a website similar to the hundred hour board, only where anyone can answer, and he wants me to be the editor. He's going to set up advertisements, and I will get 50% of any profits he makes off of it. That's pretty exciting. Everyone go there and ask or answer questions, ok?

My friend Alex passed this website along. It's my new favorite website, and you all should check it out.

The Mermaid called me up out of the blue to tell me she wanted to go to Costco. We went. I bought cheese, ham and cereal. It was a much more pleasant experience than the time I only bought vinegar and chili. We had a good talk. She had just broken up with a boyfriend, and talked for a substantial amount of time about how she needs a boyfriend who is more concerned with being good than being cool, and someone who is not materialistic but is more free with his things. I just nodded and said yeah, I could see her with someone like that. The girl is beautiful, but I never know what to think with her. One would have to fend off many other guys to really have anything with her.

I doubt I'll ever get around to talking fully about our roadtrip, so here are several of my favorite pictures from that time:


Over here on the left is when I was pretending to be seasick on the ferry. We had lots of fun on that ride.



This is me, Pinetree, Blueshorts, and Keri on our way into Seattle on the ferry. Seattle is the coolest city! I love the puget sound, and even fell into it!



I couldn't stop laughing about this campfire. It took us about an hour to light it. There was so much wind it kept getting blown out. Lad and I had to hold that tarp while Pinetree went through about 100 matches trying to get it lit. It was great.



This was our breakfast the morning of camping. You can't exactly tell, but we're on a cliff facing the ocean. It was a beautiful morning.




And here is my good buddy Pinetree playing on the beach at sunset. I didn't touch up this picture at all. Isn't it beautiful?






This is me being all contemplative at the same sunset a few minutes earlier. That has to be the most beautiful sunset I've ever seen. This was at Ocean Beach in San Francisco.




Pinetree again. This thing just got prettier and prettier.








That's me on the left and Pinetree on the right. I got kinda wet out there, but it was so worth it for these pictures, I think.





I loved how far out one could run on that beach. The tide was very low.










My dad sent me a coherent e-mail. It was the most lucid he's been in months. He said he printed out a copy of the letter I sent him and keeps it on him always. He says this is his new lease on life. I hope he takes full advantage of it. Thanks to those who have been praying for both of us.

I had a great talk with my bishop on Sunday for an hour and twenty minutes. I went in there to talk to him about my Dad and my hellish nightmares and my general ennui. He told me I might be depressed. I said I'd always been a very happy person. He said, "Well, yesterday I went to a seminar and it had three parts. first, we learned about homosexuality. Second, we learned about pornography. And third, we learned about depression. And the doctor who talked to us told us that there are two types of depression. Chemical depression, and then depression that is brought on by a trauma."

Well, I thought that was an interesting little preface. If you're new to reading my blog and haven't read all the archives, you might want to click here before you keep reading today's post, or you'll be like, WTF?

Anyway, it was interesting because I realized that the bishop was right. I have been suffering from depression. Not any permanent kind, but one I really need to work through. I also talked to him about the unfairness of things, that my dad can make bad decisions and in the end, I understand that he needs to be punished, but how could a loving God allow those of us who live righteously to be deprived of the ones we love because of the bad choices they make? The bishop told me a story that was the flip side of that, about how when he was twenty-nine, he almost left the church, but decided in the end to stick with it. And then recently one of his older children approached him and said that he was so grateful for the decision his dad made to stay in the church, because think of all the progeny that would be affected. And then suddenly I saw how it IS fair. That if we weren't allowed to have a negative impact on other people, we wouldn't be able to have a positive one, either.

I had gone to speak to the bishop with my perennial concerns about failure. I had been afraid to get close to people because I knew the bad choices I might some day make would eventually leave anyone I loved in a lot of pain they didn't deserve. But the bishop helped me to see that on the other hand, my failure to grow close to someone would deprive them of all the joy I could bring, and that in the end it's only a matter of personal choice and application of the atonement of Christ that will determine whether I'll bring more sorrow or joy into others' lives. So my new goal is to do good, to be proactive in helping others and focusing on their needs rather than trying to sort out my own life before I can begin to focus on anyone else. Because it won't happen that way.

Then I got around to that other topic. That whole "same-sex attraction" thing, to borrow the church's euphemism. I really hadn't planned to talk about it, but since he brought it up....

The bishop was incredibly informed. He had done a lot of praying and soul searching in the twenty-four hours since he had been to the seminar. He said that he's recently been dealing with another young man in my situation, and hadn't known what to tell him. He inspired me with his confidence in my ability to make good decisions. He astonished me with his perceptiveness into my character, and his compassion for my plight. And he gave me a paper to read. By a Dr. Jeff Robinson.

Dr. Robinson is a devout Latter-Day Saint psycho-therapist who has counseled innumerable young men and women who struggle with same-sex attraction. The paper the bishop gave me was in actuality a transcript of a discourse he had presented to a similar group of bishops a few years ago. The following is my own summary of that paper. It's not intended to be a condensed version of his work, but rather a showcase of the points I found most relevant to me.

The good doctor has found three characteristics that virtually all of his subjects have in common. First, they are highly emotionally sensitive. Second, they are above average in their intelligence and introspection. And third, they have an acute sense of right and wrong and a compulsion to do right. Check, check check, all of my gay friends who read this just went in their heads.

So, Dr. Robinson has this theory. He asserts that you take a young man with these three qualities, and you stick him in a society that teaches him to avoid sexualizing women, and he will build up protective walls against the future likelihood of that ever happening. Meanwhile, because of his emotional sensitivity, he begins to feel different from other boys. He wants to be rough-and-tumble, to be admired by the other children for his prowess, but begins to realize (and resent) that his strengths lie in other areas. Still, he watches those boys who represent what he wishes he were.

Then puberty strikes. And boys are aroused for the next several years. Pants too tight? Aroused. Pants too loose? Aroused. Bumpy car ride? Aroused. The boy walks around aroused by everything in his environment.

Now, the "normal" boy, because of social messages he's received, and because he is captivated by the differences between them and himself, begins to dwell on the female body, and it becomes directly linked to his sexuality.

For an example of how much the societal influences affect our sexuality, Dr. Robinson points out that in some African cultures, fat women are attractive. In others, women are more sexually attractive to men if they are missing their front teeth, if they have their necks stretched out by rings, or if their earlobes are pulled down to their lips. Obviously, sexuality is influenced a lot more than we like to think by what our society teaches us.

For this exceptional boy, something goes askew at this juncture. Because of the messages he's received from society, he is not letting himself dwell at all on the female body. And because of the differences between himself and other boys, he is fixated on them at this point in his life where things are becoming sexual. His body learns to have sexual responses to males instead of females.

Now, of course, he doesn't want this to happen. But the moment he notices that it's happening and labels it, he's cementing it. "Oh, no. I'm gay. I'm gay. I'm gay."

If this were a wound, contends Dr. Robinson, we would give it time to heal on its own. If it were a disease we could medicate it. If it were a syndrome we would seek treatment. But it's not those things. It's something we've learned. To get rid of it would be like his saying "Rudolph the red-nosed" without your thinking "reindeer." Your brain has learned that and that's what it's going to keep doing.

That doesn't mean it's impossible. If you did want to stop thinking "reindeer," you would have to replace it with something else. So you might try to say "Rudolph the red-nosed buffalo." Repeat five thousand times.

Now here's the problem with these introspective, hyper-sensitive, highly intelligent, perfectionist boys: "buffalo. buffalo. buffalo. buffalo. buffalo. reindeer. Oh, crap! I just said reindeer again! I always say reindeer! I guess I'm just a reindeer person! I'll always be stuck on reindeer!" And now he just said "reindeer" lots of extra times.

What he should say is "buffalo. buffalo. buffalo. reindeer. oh, I used to say that a lot. buffalo. buffalo." The more he kicks against it, the more it has hold over him, like the man struggling to his death in quicksand.

Dr. Robinson says that most of the young men who come to see him approach their homosexual attractions like a knight approaches a dragon. They think they need to charge the dragon, exchange blows, get a bit scorched, but in the end, though they lie bleeding, singed, and muddy, the dragon will be vanquished and they will be alive to tell of it. The reality is that the best way to deal with this dragon is just to fend it off, retreat a step, keep that shield up, step back again, and again, and again, until you're far enough away that you can just turn your back on the dragon and walk away. He'll probably always be a speck on the horizon, but he'll no longer be a nuisance.

The conclusion Dr. Robinson's speech brought tears to my eyes. He says he tells his patients that if he had a pill in his cabinet that would cure them of homosexuality, he wouldn't give it to them. When they invariably ask why not, he tells them that he's sure Heavenly Father has just such a pill, and that he's sure they've asked for it, and that He's always said no. He said that in the end it would be this struggle that would help us to reach exaltation. That these young men are the sort that he feels would fall to pride without this burden to anchor them down, that they would be the very ones to do great things to the point where they wouldn't feel a need to use the atonement, and that Satan targets them precisely because of all the potential they have to do good. And he also asserts that we can still do that good, if we can learn to walk away from the dragon.

The bishop is going to talk to Dr. Robinson to try to arrange for me to meet with him. I am so excited. I feel he really understands these issues, and can really help me in my own quest to do what's right.

I read the paper in the bathroom right before my shower yesterday. Then I had to run out for FHE (Sharkbite was like, "Smurf! Shoes and socks now!" Funny how my FHE dad sounds just like my real parents two decades before) , and I accidentally left the paper on the back of the toilet. I went and watched 24 with Kip and Wiggle and Jessica after that, and half-way through I remembered the paper and could think of nothing else. When I got back, Sharkbite was the only one home. He talked with me about all the normal things (politics, women, why he doesn't fit in), and when I finally found a covert moment to nip into the bathroom to retrieve the discourse, I found that it was gone. Awkward. I have no idea what he would have done with it, what he might have thought of it, or why he would filch it, but oh, well. Maybe it's something he needs more than I do. HA!

Ok, I'm going to finish this beast off with some pictures of my choir trip. Hope you enjoy!


This is Shelley beating me at air hockey. I had to whip off my tie in the middle of the game, and Jessica said it was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen me do, so I did it several times. We got in trouble for taking pictures in here.





Here's me eating chinese food. Did you know I once went several months without using a fork? Chopsticks only for me, thank you. For everything from steak to macaroni and cheese. I love chop sticks. I was posing for the picture, by the way. I don't really eat like that. Embarassing!







<<-----Over here you can see the courtyard of my friend Tara's house. The place was beautiful! This is where all the girls from the choir stayed.


And here----->>
you can see the living room. The view was incredible, but the place didn't really feel like one you could live in.




At the outlet mall, we were really bored, so Shelley and I got some sidewalk chalk and a bouncy ball at KB Toys and started a rockin' game of four square. Shelley kept hitting strangers. This was yet another opportunity to whip my tie off all seductively.





This is me and Shelley pretending we play the piano.









Here's me and Jessica. Shelley took this picture because we looked like an old married couple in it. I'm in the T-shirt because my neck got really terribly painful burns on it from whipping my tie off so many times. TOO sexy! TOO sexy!


Tara's mom had me peel the tomatoes for the guacamole, so I put on a little cooking show for the choir members. They said aloud what they thought I was thinking, as well as the thoughts of the tomatoes. From left to right we have Brett, Lisa, Married Brett, Treanna, and Ryan.



And finally, no, that is not a dead marmot on that woman's head. It is her actual hair, and I hate it. And also I love it. Shelley and Jessica had to take the picture with this woman in the background at the assisted living center just so we would could look at it whenever we want. Thank you, ladies. I hope you all love and hate it as much as I do.

Saturday, January 21, 2006

A Letter to my Dad

I just sent my dad a letter, and I felt like reposting it here. I haven't been able to write lately, but this is a pretty good gauge of how I'm feeling about things. It's in response to a letter he sent me, in which he told me about how he'd been in the hospital with "one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel," in his words.

I love you dad, and I miss you, too. I hope you really are making changes. You really scared us there. I thought you were gonna die. Don't do that again. You're better off getting yourself committed or going to jail than ever getting that drunk again. I didn't sleep for a week after you went to the hospital. Every time I dozed off I would have nightmares. I keep remembering all the good times we had when I was little, and how happy and alive and in control you were. Are you still the same person? That seems really sad to me that that man I knew would one day have to go through what you;re going through now. What happened? Was there some point of no return? Some bridge you crossed that you now regret? I worry about spiraling down like that. Like the old man. I don't think I've cried so much in my life as I have this past while, not knowing what would happen with you. I don't want to lose you, Dad. And I don't just mean death. I mean the good kind caring clever person I know you are. You wrote me a letter when I was on my mission about potential. You have closed a lot of doors in your life, but I know you can find peace. You feel guilt for missing your grandson's birth, but the Lord can take that away if you let him and if you really want to change. You can make up for it by being around for the rest of his life. I will pray for you, but you'd better be praying for yourself. I don't care how much guilt you have; you need to talk to your Father in Heaven. Before it's too late, Dad. The atonement doesn't just help take away our past mistakes, but it gives us the power we need to not make them again. You have to ask for that help. If this is the turning point you say it is, then you'd better not be drinking any more at all. No smoking, no drugs. If you're still doing those things, then maybe you'd better consider how much deeper yo ucan sink before yo uhit bottomn and start coming up again. The answer is that you can't go any deeper. Next time you "hit bottom" you'll die. Please don't do that. I never met your dad. Please hang around long enough for my kids to meet their grandfather. Please be my dad again. I love you. Sorry if I sound like I'm scolding you. You just scared me so bad. You're in my prayers, and the prayers of my friends. BE GOOD. Love, Me

Friday, January 13, 2006

Have a stupid no-brainer survey.

1) Are you currently in a relationship or single? Yes.

2) Are you happy with where you are? I'm sleepy with where I am.

3) When you meet the right person, do you fall fast? I fall in love like I fall in dreams: I always wake up before I actually hit.

4) Have you ever cheated on someone? nope.

5) Do you believe that there are certain circumstances where cheating is acceptable? Maybe if you're playing spades and everyone agrees beforehand that cheating is okay as long as you don't get caught. My friend Tex and I used to play that way. But that's the only time I can think of.

6) Would you ever take someone back, if they cheated on you? I'm sure I will some day.

7) Have you talked about marriage with another person or have you been married? That's a negative. I've alluded to marriage but never just outright talked about it.

8) Do you want children? Are you offering me some? I only want my own, thanks.

9) If yes how many? As many as my wife can pop out before she collapses.

10) Would you consider adoption? I'm too old to be adopted and it's probably too late for me anyhow.

11) If somebody liked you right now, what do you think a cool unique way of showing you would be? Screw showing. What ever hapened to TELLING?

12) Do you enjoy a chase? We believe in being honest, true, chased....

13) Be honest, do you play the "game" when you are dating someone? If the game is Trivial Pursuit, then yes, always. And yes, this answer has multiple meanings.

14) Do you believe love at first sight exists? That's called you're both horny, like in Titanic or Romeo and Juliet or The Muppet Movie.

15) Are you a romantic? I'm a neo-classical.

16) Do you believe that you can change someone? Sure, you can change babies. In fact, you probably should, or they stink.

17) If you could get married anywhere, money not an object where would it be? Wherever I feel like that day.

18) [Question deleted by the smurfs for strong language and adult situations.]

19) Do you easily give in when you are fighting? I imagine I would if ever I were wrong.

20) Do you have feelings for someone right now, whether they know or not? I don't think so. I am trying to not be aware of that sort of thing right now, thank you.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Things I Should be Posting about

1. My dad's suicide attempt and subsequent hospitalization due to alcohol poisoning.
2. The floods that evacuated my hometown.
3. New Years at the Space Needle in Washington.
4. Christmas with a kind but bizarre family from West Valley.
5. The news that my heart chakra swirls the wrong way.
6. Having to play with guns.
7. The vivid nightmares I've had every night since I've been home from California.
8. My search for a new job.
9. What I did with Jenny's car.
10. Camping on the beach.
11. The resulting poison oak: "I'm a monster!"
12. Road trips with Blue Shorts.
13. Getting stuck in SLUT (that stands for Salt Lake, Utah) last night and Wiggle to the rescue.
14. The hole left in my heart because Vero awesome is on Colorado now.
15. My choir trip this week to St. George.

But guess what? I am stressed, and I don't feel like talking about that crap. Which is why I haven't posted for a while. So I'll do what I've done in the past, i.e. post some of my personal favorites of my own responses from the Hundred hour Board. Hope you enjoy the best of Smurfette and Grouchy:


Dear Females of the 100 Hour Board,

I figured this question would be best for girls since guys don't usually care about baby names. Anyway, I'm getting married in three months and I'm hoping to have a little girl first. Any good name suggestions? I've always liked the names Lesley and Isabelle...yeah, I know they're way different from each other, but they both appeal to me. So anyway, I'm just looking for some inspiration. What are your sisters' names? What names do you just like? Thanks a ton! Keep up the awesome work you guys do, cause I love reading this Board.

-Shadow


ADear I had a dog named that!

Here are some ideas:

Polaris Esther. That way you have the star motif going, sice Polaris is the north star and esther is the Hebrew word for star. Plus Polaris is a really awesome X-man. And you could call her Polly for short. Polly Esther. How cool is that?

Mia is a good one. Like that bee. If you name her Mia, her middle name needs to be Pow. Then she'll see flags with her name sometimes.

Aurora Borealis is a good one. It's Latin for "northern dawn." And it's like the name of Sleeping Beauty.

Many girls are named after flowers. You could name her after the pot the flower is in. So how about Tara Cotta? Or if you think "Cotta" is a stupid middle name, then you could use "moto." That way her name is the Spanish word for "earthquake." She'll be a force of nature!

For you Star Wars fans, try Xaveri Cantina. The Xaveri is just so you can have a name that starts with X (plus it's an anagram for Xavier, in case you're into the X-Men).

I'm fond of the name Ember Vertigo. Amber is overdone. Vertigo is a really freaky Hitchcock. I guess if you had triplets you could go with Amber, Ember, and Umber. They would love you forever.

And if you are trying to come up with a name before you know the baby's gender, you can always go with Anne Drogeny. Yes, that one's great.

--Smurfette

Dear 100 Hour Board...specifcally those smurfy types....

are you aware that the smurfs were communists?

- a concerned citizen


ADear paranoid citizen,
You are a fool. The McCarthy era is over, buddy. It's not cool to use the word "communist" to describe everything you don't understand. And if you think we smurfs are actually communist, then you are ignorant as well. Communism is a type of egalitarian society in which nobody owns anything. Smurfs own plenty of things. Smurfette has a whole closet full of the same stupid white dress and shoes. When Farmer found a genie's lamp, he was allowed to keep it for himself, not required to share it with everyone for the greater good (although Papa did end up having to borrow the lamp in a few episodes, but that fits in with a point I'll make in a second). Vanity often refers to his mirror as "my mirror." Greedy is allowed to have more than his fair share of the food. Even Lazy is forced to get up and work if he wants the benefits of living in the Smurf Village. The thing about the smurfs is that we share what we have. When Handy invented automobiles, he made one for everyone in town. That would only be communist if Papa Smurf had forced him to do it. If you buy a pizza and then share it evenly with your roommates, are you communist? No. But if your landlord comes in and takes your pizza and splits it up evenly between you, then the landlord is communist. Sharing is not the same thing as communism. Enough with the paranoia. Next you'll be telling me that Vanity is a metrosexual. Ok, maybe he is. But I didn't say that.
--Grouchy

Dear 100 Hour Board,

So my younger sister is studying Romeo and Juliet in her high school English class. As they read the balcony scene, one of the other students asks "So this is where she lets down her hair, right?" Another student responds with "No, stupid, thats Rapunzel and its a bible story, not Shakespeare." Mind you, this is a junior level english class. So here's the question: What has happened to today's teenagers to make them so ignorant?

- mj

ADear MJ,

MTV?

--Grock

A
Television, plain and simple.

-Benvolio


ADear everyone,

Oh, sure, let's blame television and the other mass media. Sorry, folks, but watching television doesn't magically make people any more ignorant than they were before they turned it on. It doesn't often make them much more knowledgeable, either, I'll admit. But it's not like the student who made the Rapunzel comment at one point knew that that story wasn't in the Bible, but then she went home and read her TeenBeat magazine and pumped some VH1 into her brain and accidentally deleted it. No, the problem isn't what we put into the brains of today's youth; it's what we DON'T put in.

How would these pupils know what the Bible contains? That's forbidden from classroom discussion. Sure, teach them we evolved from rats. Teach them how to put on condoms and to accept alternative lifestyles and that no knowledge is certain. Let them glean their own "morals" from a rather corrupt Shakespeare, and from Hemingway and Judy Blume.

While you're at it, make sure you don't let any of the kids exceed their peers. Hold the brilliant kids back to the pace of the class, and hold the class back to the pace of the slow kids.

Then we can invent new math classes that don't focus on math--please, who needs to know math anymore now that we have calculators and computers?--but rather focus on group unity and feelings about mathematical concepts.

Then we can take the classics and strip them down and put our own agendas into them. "Shakespeare? Well, the language is beyond you, but trust me, it's about sex." Or feminism. Or capitalism.

Then we can prescribe what the students learn even further by making required reading lists and curricula that make sure each little automoton learns the exact same things. Independent thought will come naturally in college, as we've all been taught it should.

The students seem to be communicating okay, so we can also throw out the ideas of grammar and phonetics, since most teachers don't understand those things anyway. the kids'll prolly be fine since we're moving towards internet language which has no rulez anyways lol:)

In fact, the whole concept of right and wrong is outdated (probably came from the Bible or something!). As long as the student shows her work/has good intentions/has put forth an effort, she'll receive full marks. Who are we to judge? Imagine if the Catholic church had given Galileo a grade. Except don't because you have no need to know who that even is.

In short, our students aren't learning anything. They aren't passing their standardized tests. They aren't even interested or trying. Let's do the logical thing: make it even easier. Students can get A's in two ways: we can make them work harder or we can make it easier. Well, that seems an obvious choice!

Oh, and let's cut funding way back. We don't want to be forking over the big bucks for teachers who know too much more than their students, lest they seem inaccessible. After all, a teacher's primary concern is preparing the students for the "real world" by getting them to get along and by being a listening ear when the students need to talk. "Street smarts" in the end prove much more valuable than "book smarts," right?

Oh, and happy New Year, Mubba.

--Grouchy, who actually never watches television as a rule, lest it happen to make him dumber.

QDear 100 Hour Board,

Why does everyone hate (starwars) Episode 1 and 2 so much? I happened to like them very much and it spoils my joy the same way it does when I finish watching a movie and some jerk in the crowd says loudly, 'that was the worst movie I've ever seen.'

- Hurt, broken, bleeding, scarred, tortured, and losing a pulse.

ADear Hurt,

I guess this is my opportunity to defend the movies. But I'll pass on that, because they were awful. Episode one contained inappropriate jokes, for goodness' sake! Jake and Hayden both in turn put in dismal performances as the character who is central to the entire series. The dialogue seemed to be written directly to the audience. "Now that's pod-racing!" Do you remember that? He might as well have turned to the camera and said, "Don't think it weird that a young boy is instantly such a good pilot. Remember, folks, at the beginning of the movie when I was pod-racing?" Padme and Amidala were more obviously the same person than Superman and Clark Kent. This whole business with the metychloridians or whatever was asinine, like trying to find a scientific explanation for faith. Not to mention the immaculate conception of Darth Vader, or his emasculation vis-a-vis the nickname "Ani." Then there's the muddled plot, the killing off of the coolest character before he's said four lines, Jar-Jar, the fleeting glimpses of cities you'd like to spend at least a few seconds admiring, the creepy relationship between Anakin and Padme, etc. I mean, it's not like the original trilogy had the best acting, either. But it had heart. Even Yoda's wisdom is diminished. In episode II, he never says a single thing we don't already know. More like Jedi Master of the Obvious, I say. Seriously, watch it with that in mind, and you'll notice.

The problem is that Lucas obviously has no sense of what's sacred. Remember the extended version of the Max Rebo Band? Disgusting! It's like a cartoon. And now the newest version has a new over-expository conversation between Vader and Palpatine, a new ghost Anakin at the end of Jedi, a third version of Greedo's death, and a new score in place of the Ewok's yub-yub song. George should really just hand his movies over to someone who doesn't live by the motto "more is more."

Let someone else try to defend those movies.

--Grouchy

QDear 100 Hour Board,

If you won a bunch of money gambling and you wanted to pay tithing on it, would the Church accept your tithe?

- Senor Cardgage


ADear creepy comb-over guy,
The church has a special scanner that they run all checks and currency through to see if they were earned by gambling. If they were, the money will be returned not to you, but to the Lotto or casino or racetrack where you won it. They also contact your Bishop, spouse, parents, and college professors and tell them to encourage you to return the other 90%. This story is made up. They have no way of knowing. Just don't gamble, people. And come up with your own questions, not just the ones on the fliers we handed out today. Sheesh.
--Grouchy


Saturday, January 07, 2006

Dodge Ball

So I played Dodge Ball for an FHE activity on Monday at church. At one point, the other team had all the balls on its side, and my team was forced back against the back wall.

"Why are you all hiding back there against the wall?" asked an impetuous young woman who obviously had no idea how the game worked.

"Because we don't have any BALLS!" I snarled back, very loudly, and then immediately regretted it.

I should just stop saying words, I think.

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Why I Don't Read the News


The reason I don't read the news is that it sometimes gives me the impulse to blow up a federal judicial building or something.

Saturday, December 17, 2005

I Didnt Like How Naomi Watts Was Having Eye Sex With the Ape the Whole Time.

That's what a guy on the Internet Movie Database said. I agree completely. I bet you can't guess what movie I saw tonight. Or rather, what movie I slept through most of. BOOOOORING.

Thursday, December 15, 2005

Poetry by Other People

Here: Have some poetry I like. I'd like to hear people's opinions on the different poems I've selected. Hopefully these will get you into the Christmas spirit. Yeah right. Well, maybe they'll get you thinking about death, racism, manhood, sex, old age, and war, right?

Dog's Death

By John Updike,

She must have been kicked unseen or brushed by a car.
Too young to know much, she was beginning to learn
To use the newspapers spread on the kitchen floor
And to win, wetting there, the words, "Good dog! Good dog!"

We thought her shy malaise was a shot reaction.
The autopsy disclosed a rupture in her liver.
As we teased her with play, blood was filling her skin
And her heart was learning to lie down forever.

Monday morning, as the children were noisily fed
And sent to school, she crawled beneath the youngest's bed.
We found her twisted and limp but still alive.
In the car to the vet's, on my lap, she tried

To bite my hand and died. I stroked her warm fur
And my wife called in a voice imperious with tears.
Though surrounded by love that would have upheld her,
Nevertheless she sank and, stiffening, disappeared.

Back home, we found that in the night her frame,
Drawing near to dissolution, had endured the shame
Of diarrhoea and had dragged across the floor
To a newspaper carelessly left there. Good dog.

The Telephone Conversation

By Wole Soyinka

The price seemed reasonable, location
Indifferent. The landlady swore she lived
Off premises. Nothing remained
But self- confession “Madam, I warned,
“I hate a wasted journey- I am African.”
Silence. Silenced transmission of
Pressurised good – breeding. Voice, when it came
Lipstick-coated, long gold-rolled
Cigarette- holder pipped. Caught I was foully
“HOW DARK?...... I had not misheard……
“ARE YOU LIGHT OR VERY DARK?” Button B, Button A, stench
Of rancid breath of public hide-and –speak
Red booth. Red pillar box. Red double-tiered
Omnibus squelching tar. It was real. Shamed
By ill-mannered silence, surrender
Pushed dumbfounded to beg simplification.
Considerate she was, varying the emphasis-
ARE YOU DARK? OR VERY LIGHT?" Revelation came
“You mean –like plain or milk chocolate?”
Her assent was clinical, crushing in its light
Impersonality, Rapidly, wave length adjusted,
I chose “West African sepia”- and as afterthought,
“Down in my passport.” Silence for spectroscopic
Flight of fancy, till truthfulness clanged her accent
Hard on the mouthpiece. “WHAT IS THAT?” conceding
“DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT IS” “Like brunette.”
THAT’S DARK, ISN’T IT?” Not altogether,
Facially, I am a brunette, but Madam you should see
The rest of me. Palm of my hand, soles of my feet
Are a peroxide blonde. Friction caused
Foolishly, Madam – by sitting down, has turned
My bottom raven black- One moment – sensing
Her receiver rearing on the thunderclap
About my ears- “Madam” I pleaded “wouldn’t you rather
See for yourself?”

IF--

By Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!


she being Brand

by E.E. Cummings


she being Brand

-new;and you
know consequently a
little stiff i was
careful of her and(having

thoroughly oiled the universal
joint tested my gas felt of
her radiator made sure her springs were O.

K.)i went right to it flooded-the-carburetor cranked her

up,slipped the
clutch(and then somehow got into reverse she
kicked what
the hell)next
minute i was back in neutral tried and

again slo-wly;bare,ly nudg. ing(my

lev-er Right-
oh and her gears being in
A 1 shape passed
from low through
second-in-to-high like
greasedlightning)just as we turned the corner of Divinity

avenue i touched the accelerator and give

her the juice,good

(it

was the first ride and believe i we was
happy to see how nice she acted right up to
the last minute coming back down by the Public
Gardens i slammed on

the
internalexpanding
&
externalcontracting
brakes Bothatonce and

brought allofher tremB
-ling
to a:dead.

stand-
;Still)

Common Ground

by Judith Ortiz Tofer

Blood tells the story of your life
in heartbeats as you live it;
bones speak in the language
of death, and flesh thins
with age when up
through your pores rises
the stuff of your origin.

These days,
when I look into the mirror I see
my grandmother's stern lips
speaking in parnetheses at the corners
of my mouth of pain and deprivation
I have never known. I recognize
my father's brows arching in disdain
over the objects of my vanity, my mother's
nervous hands smoothing lines
just appearing on my skin,
like arrows pointing downward
to our common ground.

Invocation

by Robin Morgan
for Isel Rivero

Gunmen attacked a school in northwestern Rwanda last Monday, killing seventeen girls.... The Attack took place after the Hutu gunmen ordered the girls to separate into groups of ethnic Hutu or Tutsi, and the students refused to comply.

--From The New York Times, April 30, 1997

Insane, sadistic gods to whom I offer
only my denial and disgust,
how do we bear witness to each other
when such defiance gleams beyond our trust?

They stupify us, these small, nameless girls
in whose name Love linked arms with her best friend.
Courage skulks shamed before these little skulls
rotting on the grassy school playground.

Let me be worthy of such children, slain
where they stand, who in the face of dying, cling.
Let me be equal to my small, sufficient pain
and in the broken teeth of horror, sing.

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Mmm, I Get High with a Little Help from my Friends

(you have to read this whole post in a super fast, no breaths Micromachine Guy voice if you want to know how it sounded in my head.)

I accidentally left my leather jacket at Mike's house during the nacho party. And I let Vero Awesome keep wearing the trench coat after our date. So I ended up unable to a) find my coats or b) remember that I'd left them places last night when we were getting ready to go play Speed Scrabble at my friend Squeaker's house last night. So I decided to just go without it, since Wiggle was waiting downstairs for me and the roommate I don't really have a name for on my blog yet, so let's call him Sharkbite arbitrarily.

I figured we'd be in the house or the car the whole evening anyway, so no big whoop, right? Besides it's not like I forgot to bring Scrabble, like SOME people (ahemwigglecough).

So after six games of Catchphrase (My partnership won five of six games, though we kept switching teams), we headed back home. We dropped off Sharkbite and I decided to go with Wiggle to her house to watch the next two DVDs of Lost that she checked out at Hollywood. Well, Wiggle decided to go to bed early like a kindergarten baby, but I won't be able to watch with her any other night before they're due because of Evergreen (gonna try it again tonight), my home teachers coming, the date with Kelly, and the efy Christmas party this week. So Bekachu and I stayed up and finished them by ourselves, while itty-bitty baby Wiggie went sleepy-bye. Ok, so it was mostly my suggestion that she do so, I'll admit it.

Anyway, when it was over, I realized that it was now about 4:30 a.m. and I had to get myself the four blocks home without a jacket. I concocted a plan with Bekachu. I decided to run all the way home and then call her when I got there. If I hadn't called by the time fifteen minutes had passed, she was to wake up Wiggle and come in search of me in the car. I didn't know if you could die from just being out in the cold, but I was pretty sure you could because of that old guy on Groundhog's Day that Phil can't save, no matter what he does. I could just see myself face down and frozen solid, wedged into one of those stupid exposed gutters that people are always driving into around here.

Anyway, I made it home alive. Barely.

I have had asthma attacks intermittently my whole life. Usually every five years or so. In fact, just the other week I was wondering if I weren't due for another. Well, turns out I must have been.

When I came into the apartment, I was wheezing so badly I just collapsed onto the floor and lay still for as long as I could. My breathing and heart rates were exorbitantly high. Luckily I had collapsed near a computer, so in my panicked but dazed state I signed on to MSN messenger. Topsie was on, and it sounds like she's going to have a ridiculous day of finals and her sister's wedding, after no sleep at all last night. Poor girl. You're in my prayers. Anyway, I wasn't typing much because I could hardly breathe, and moving my fingers a lot was out of the question. Plus I kept vomiting into the trash, which sure wasn't helping anything.

I guess I got the message across, though, because she came back and said she'd prayed for me. Right after that, Pinetree signed on. I splained to him what was happening, an he said he had some Albuterol, and would bring it right over. That was great, since that was my prescription way back in the day.

About five minutes later he was administering it, and I felt my lungs and bronchi clear up immedately. The only problem was that that stuff comes with several possible side effects, according to Medline Plus Drug info. I have all of these (there are others listed):

  • tremor
  • nervousness
  • shakiness
  • dizziness
  • excitement
  • headache
  • difficulty falling asleep or staying asleep
  • rapid, pounding, or irregular heartbeat
So basically I'm high out of my mind and agitated and can't sleep. I got the munchies as soon as I'd taken the meds, and ended up eating all the rest of my sandwich fixings. And I didn't know what to do after that. So I thought I'd blog. But I also want to say muchisimas gracias to Topsie and Pinetree, for saving me a trip to the hospital. Love you both tons. Now I think I'm gonna go jump on my bed, and then Asmond's, and see which one has the better mattress. Yeah, that sounds like fun. All my thoughts in my head are coming super fast like Hogarth in the Iron Giant when he drinks his first cup of coffee. I gotta get out of here. Okay bye. Byebyebyebyebyebyebyebyebyebye I just wanted to do that.

Monday, December 12, 2005

Christmas Wish List

Here are some things I'd like for Christmas.

A CTR ring. I like the nice green ones. I'm a size 11. Like this, only green:















A heavy winter coat.

Long Johns.

A flesh-colored body suit.

























Really cheap scriptures (I plan to lose them).

A computer.

A fossa.

A car.

A cell phone.

Fudge.

A dictionary.

Board games.

Things I do NOT want:

Tofu.

Rainbow suspenders.

A graphing calculator.

A T-shirt with the word "fart" on it.

A Boyz II Men CD.

A box of wine.

This book:


























A hammer.

A tarantula.