Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Current Audio

The Dead Kennedys
Kill the Poor

It's kind of a sad that I'm 100% vintage. It would be a lot cooler if at least some of my interests were more up to date. Well there's a classicist for you; all my "cool" capital from the vintage gets cancelled out by the excess of it.

Monday, November 28, 2005

Theology, Cartmanland

Kyle:
Do you know what happened to me this morning, Stan? This morning... I woke up and felt a sharp pain in my ass. I felt down there and, and found this... big sore lump. On my ass, Stan. I couldn't even sit down, so... I, I had to tell my mother, which, which was humiliating. She took me to the doctor, which was more humiliating, a- a- nd he told me. I-I have a hemorrhoid. It's like an infected blood vessel on your ass. I'm nine years old, and I have a hemorrhoid, Stan. I have a hemorrhoid, and, Cartman has his own theme park.

[Hell's Pass Hospital]

Stan:
Dude, are you okay?

Kyle:
Oh, I'm swell, Stan. I popped my hemorrhoid trying to climb the fence into Cartmanland, and it got infected. I really need to go to the bathroom, but if I do, it will pop again and the pain will make me pass out. How are you?

Stan:
Well um, ah-I found out that Cartman is letting a few people each day into his theme park. I wa thinking we could put on disguises and get in.

Sheila:
Ah-ah-ah-I'm afraid Kyle can't ride any amusement park rides for over a year because of his horrible hemorrhoid.

Stan:
Jesus.

Kyle:
But it's okay, Stan, because I finally figured it out. You see, if someone like Cartman can get a million dollars and his own theme park, then there is no God. There's no God, dude.

Sheila:
Kyle, don't say such things!

Kyle:
Why? Why, Mom? Because if I do something bad will happen to me? Because if I do your God might not shower me with his blessings of infected hemorrhoids?

Current Audio

The Three Johns
Death of a European

The Threats
Politicians and Ministers

Sunday, November 27, 2005

BRING BACK LUKE!

What did I accomplish this Thanksgiving? A marathon viewing of The OC season 1, which tonight included the (in)famous "Oliver" episodes. I've heard so much about how awful Oliver was that it never occurred to me that the episodes could be good. They were. Most of all, Luke was GOLD. Definitely the best thing that that show did. If I think back to all his incarnations - the jealous boyfriend, the homophobic bully, the cheating boyfriend, the guy with a gay dad, the motherfucker - there wasn't a single one I didn't like; but never did he play the buffoon so exquisitely as he did in the "Oliver" episodes, particularly the one with Rooney. I've been told that the Rooney episode stunk, because all they did the whole time was talk about what a great band Rooney was (an apt critique, no doubt), but those critics forgot to mention that this episode also happened to be Luke's golden moment.

It was a philosophical query of mine whether it was possible for a good-looking person to be truly and convincingly funny. I remember when I first started watching The OC, I used to complain that it didn't have any good-looking people on it (this was when Ryan and Marissa were my samples), and my friends would then say, half-apologetically, "Well, there's Luke." I never imagined that Luke would be the answer to my philosophical query, the pudding-proof that a good-looking person could also be hilarious.

The interesting thing, however, is that once Luke won my heart as the bag o' laughs, he kind of stopped being good-looking. Isn't that interesting?

Friday, November 25, 2005

So Much Fun

Surfing today, which never gets old. I did not exactly "show the ocean who's boss" as I loudly declared I would, but suck or not, I always have a good time. My whole family came with me to the beach, which was nice.

Wimbledon

The fact that this is a romantic comedy starring Kirsten Dunst should have been my first hint. I did not, however, know that it was a British romantic comedy, about which I have 4 words:

British humor: NOT FUNNY.

So take out the comedy in "romantic comedy" and what do you get? Basically a run-of-the-mill romance...set to ESPN (which pretty much tells you what I think of it). It wasn't bad, just boring. I'd put it on par with Mona Lisa Smile in the Dunst ouvre.

"This is Seth from Videorama. The following DVDs are now overdue: Drunken Hussies 3, Backdoor Patrol 5, and Mona Lisa Smile." Haha!

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Addendum: Crazy Moment

Margot was complaining about how all the men in her life, including this new guy Mike, all happen to 24, and too young. 24, that's not young, I thought, as she was telling me about Mike: first-year grad student, graduated from college in 04... Still, I didn't get it and somewhere in the back of my head I was trying to account for his lost years, because clearly 24 was so much older than me...

!!! I had a miniature heart-attack when it hit me.

When It Rains It Pours

It's funny how you can be standing right there the whole time, but you don't get all the facts until days later, through the gossip mill. I found out today that last Friday, I was the only one in the group who didn't have any game. When it droughts, it really droughts. Oh well, at least it was raining for everyone else.

1. Herb and Justina hang out with us a lot, though not necessarily with each other. Herb's specialty is ditching us and shoeing in on another group of people - often random people he just met. The classic Herb story is when he saw an ex at a bar - while she was CLEARLY ON A DATE - and decided to pull up a chair and third-wheel on their date. We were all laughing at him and predicting his crash and burn, when...the other guy LEFT and the girl apparently picked Herb! WTF?? Joke's on us.

Oh, I almost forgot the punchline. At some point on Friday night, Herb asked Justina out on a date. She said yes, much to her current distress.

2. I mention this because meanwhile, on Friday night, Margot was busy flirting with a guy, let's just call him Emerson. He was very cute, a la Jared Leto in Requiem for a Dream (a movie that totally tossed salad, btw; but that's neither here nor there). At some point, Emerson's friend Ben tried to shoe in and flirt with Margot too. Then he kinda gave up (and I think went for Justina; hard to tell), and this other guy Mike started third-wheeling on those two, again. Naturally, I assumed that Mike was another friend of Emerson's. Gee, I thought, that Emerson really needs to get better friends; bros before hos, dudes. Actually, as I found out today, Emerson wasn't a friend but just a random guy who saw Margot and thought she's cute who cares that she's already into this other dude. So here's the punchline: as the night wore on, Emerson gave up first, and Mike, the dark horse candidate, won that round of Elimidate. !! I mean, he was cute too. But who does that? And more importantly, who actually succeeds doing that?

Whatevers man. Weird universe. One in which I apparently am the day-old bread.

Monday, November 21, 2005

Mission Viejo

Congratulations MJ on being the fourth safest city in the US. The top four safest cities are, in this order:
1. Newton, MA
2. Clarkstown, NY
3. Amherst, NY
4. Mission Viejo, CA

The top four most dangerous cities are, in this order:
1. Camden, NJ
2. Detroit, MI
3. St. Louis, MO
4. Flint, MI

Current Audio

Jets to Brazil
"Your X Rays Have Just Come Back"
Four Cornered Night

Sunday, November 20, 2005

My Cousin Vinny

Great movie! Somehow an amalgamation of stereotypes - the Southern stereotypes, the Jersey girl stereotype, the Joe Pesci stereotype - came together as something quite original. Watching it side by side with Legally Blonde, which was playing at the same time, I realized that My Cousin Vinny is much better crafted, and its character development even is more interesting. One could argue that this courtroom drama was already done by Twelve Angry Men, but let me remind that person that Twelve Angry Men is hella boring, IMO. Fine performance from Marissa Tomei - I can see what George Costanza likes about her ("ma" + "newer" = "manure").

Saturday, November 19, 2005

So Bored

I just went to a marathon viewing of football and hockey, plus some boozing. If there are two things I hate, they're sports and beer. To give you an idea of how bored I was, at one point I changed the channel to watch Cheaters - a new low, surely.

Thursday, November 17, 2005

5% of the world's male population

can be traced as being decendants of Ghengis Khan. Which presumably means that roughly 5% of the women in the world are also decended from said (but tests results can't confirm, because it's something you can look for only in the Y chromosome).

That Ghengis. What every guy fantasizes about - every male animal's biological raison d'etre - he did.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

New Reason to Get Up in the Morning

Saved By the Bell; 2 episodes from 8am to 9am.

Belding: "Screech, don't you think you're trimming off too much?"
Screech: "Thin is in! This is bonsai, not sumo wrestling."

Monday, November 14, 2005

Punk: Attitude (manifesto-size)

This is a documentary on the history of punk that I just saw on tv. It was actually pretty informative, confirming a lot of the loose information I've been gathering on the movement lately from radio, as well as my impression that Henry Rollins is totally full of himself. Oh, and Jello Biafra: totally gay, right?

The end of the documentary turned into this weird sort of diatribe about how punk these days sucks, and kids these days are letting all the old rebels down with their complacency. I think the quote went something like: "In the seventies we were all anti-establishment; nowadays everyone wants to be a part of the establishment." Aptly put! I agree enthusiastically, though with some caveats and a backstory.

Recently, my brother had me read this article about Generation Y, which said that Y is predominantly characterized by our ambition, BUT ALSO that we're used to questioning authority. If you look at the history of the world, these two things should be antithetical (insolence tends to twart ambitions). They're not, because our role models growing up have been the Martin Luther Kings and the Albert Einsteins, and not so much, say, the FDRs or the Richelieus. So paradoxically, we have come to understand anti-establishment as a means to changing the world, ie GREATNESS. If we can't make a difference, we wonder if our rebellion isn't just our personal whims after all. And we know that the two overlap from experience, from our rebelling so goddamn regularly ("Do your homework"/"No I want to watch TV" = personal whim; "Learn piano"/"No I'm want to be a drummer in a rock band" = ?).

So there's that, an agenda-motivated attitude toward authority. Then there's the fact that for every John Lennon whom made it big being anti-establishment, there was that kid who sat behind you in school who never did his homework, and for no good reason either because these were the days before we had ideologies, and homework was simply the thing that everyone did. Today, that kid is a pizza delivery guy, and you see him at punk shows as the guy with the mohawk and the safety pins. And you think, Dudes, if this is anti-establishment, it's pretty lame...

To elaborate further on the particulars of the music industry and rebellion: long ago some rising rock star said to himself, "I could play the music I want in my garage, and my dog will listen to me. Or, I could suck it up, cooperate with a few corporate suits, reach a bigger audience and MAKE A DIFFERENCE IN THE WORLD." We all know how the music industry evolved, and I use this rock star guy as a metaphor. The archetype who chose the first path represents people, basically, like me, who refuse to sell out until one day they realize that their work is meaningful to precisely one person, themselves; and fuck that's lame! The archetype who chose the second path represents the dreamers who wanted to make a big, real impact by working the system from within, until the system turned them into the bloodsuckers they were trying to change in the first place; and essentially, they become a Part of the Problem, which is what I take Jim Jarmusch to mean when he said that we were all trying to be a part of the establishment instead of going against it.

So what is different about the world now that blunts the force of rebellion, when in the seventies it was so successful (supposedly)? My take on it is that the world is smaller and the stakes are higher. My brother and I were have a conversation the other day about how you could be considered among the wealthiest tenth of Americans, but this doesn't mean you'd be able to buy a house, even. It's hard to keep your dignity (and belief that you're right) when you're living in a cardboard box. And increasingly, rebellion means either living in a box (missing your chance at the big time), or living in a cave (no one gives two craps about you; like me, the humanities academic). Maybe in the seventies it was a young person's greatest fear that she'd end up with the house with the white picket fence, with the kids and a golden retriever; today, even that's looking more and more like an impossible, wistful, dream. Now, my fear is that I'll become a raving homeless person by the time I'm sixty-five, with no retirement savings (to say nothing of Social Security) and no family to care enough even to put me in an institution.

And there it is: the Precipice.

So even if some new movement in rock 'n' roll were to tell me to say "Fuck you" to the establishment - which, incidently, Generation Y knows how to do better than anyone else; see above - I would still have to think twice about it on account of the precipice. Even when I AM saying "Fuck you" to the establishment by living in my countercultural (ie, totally not important) cave known as academia, I'm still thinking about the Precipice. Who knows, maybe there are a jillion Johnny Rottens out there every day telling me about Polly's abortion, but with the surplus of information coming in thanks to today's technology, maybe I don't notice it anymore. Rebellion has dimmed to a dull roar; meanwhile the precipice comes up with some new scary thing each day.

To end with a bit more of a favorable response to Punk: Attitude: as ludicrous it is to conclude, as the documentary did, that today's punk is just Blink 182 = sucks, I do have to agree that 70s punk was glorious. Back in those days, they were able to say, "The world is fucked up and I'm pissed off." They didn't have any answers, but at least they correctly identified the problem. People of my generation, I think, are more like, "The world is fucked up, and how can I make it better?" That is the grand delusion! We can't make it better, at least not without kissing asses and joining the Problem. So, we might as well do our own thing, like the seventies punks. Not "own thing" in the sense like what I'm doing, which is looking for an alternate shelter of success, which still entails kissing (a different set of) asses and thus in no way threatens the establishment. No; if the world sucks, why don't we just deface it?

Oh yes, the Precipice, that's why. And the pizza-delivery guy. Our technology is broader and our drugs aren't as strong, so it's hard not to think about the big picture.

Revision on the Numbers

I consulted with a graduate student who's on the job market this year and I found out the figures I gave before are on the low side. The average pay for a new Ph.D is $45K; the lowest ones are around $40K, and the highest one is $52K. Cost of living affects the pay, so that if you live in a big expensive city, you get the double advantage of getting more dough and living in a big city.

The question is: so why do so many people choose to take these ass jobs in Hicksville, USA? I guess it's a matter a preference. Some people don't have a problem with places I would definitely have a problem with, like my brother's friend is totally enamored with Alaska, and I know a guy who chose to go to a school in Michigan over an equally good school in California. Me, I don't think there's enough prestige in the world that will make me move to Iowa. But I guess that's what I'm saying now.

Sunday, November 13, 2005

Reality Check

So I've been severely depressed lately, mostly because of this chosen career path. Some of the people on the job market this year said something like a starting-level position was giving $37.5K. I don't know what I was expecting ($45K?), but I was shocked by this amount. High school teachers make more than that, and so do a lot of other entry-level jobs that hire straight-out of college. I know for a fact, just to give two examples, that both an engineering post-doc and a regular industry number cruncher (analyzing psychological profiles of juries; straight out of college, non-degree-specific) make $60K - and the responsibilities and expertise required are far less than for, say, an assistant professor. So I started asking around, and one feedback I got (admittedly not the most experienced one) was that I'd be making $ in the 50s when I'm in my 50s.

WTF? This is poverty level. I could make as much, and sooner, by working up the ranks at my local Starbucks, and becoming a manager there. I feel like getting this advanced degree would be worth it only if I was making at least 60 when I'm in my 30s.

I'll have to get a second opinion on that. But meanwhile it got me thinking about how career-driven everyone is in this profession, and how a lot of women would find it absolutely ridiculous to put a bump in their momentum by having kids and stuff. Would I be willing to sacrifice a real life for $37.5? Hell no! But then I would consider that one needs a man before one can start a family and kids, and I've never been able to keep a man, so maybe I should stop blaming the profession for my simply being pathetic...

On the other hand, I can't shake the feeling that this academic environment IS holding me back, because who the fuck am I going to meet while I'm here? Weird autistic people, that's who.

But to end on a happier note: I had a positive little reality check last night when, brooding over these melancholy thoughts, I browsed through some of the stuff on monster.com. Truly, there isn't a job out there that doesn't suck. So maybe I made the right choice after all.

Saturday, November 12, 2005

Welcome to the Dollhouse

I've been meaning to watch this movie for the past 10 years, and I finally caught it last night. It was so sad that it almost wasn't funny. Had I seen it 10 years ago, when I was closer to the protagonist's age, I'm not sure I would have found it funny at all.

I going to try to quit TV, except on Wednesday South Parks and Thursday OCs, because it's turning into a crawlspace by which I hide from the fact that my life sucks, and I'm not taking any measures to make it better. One of the things I need to do is finish all my work at least a day before; then hopefully I'll have time to think it over and be more excited about going to class (hypothetically). All my classes have been too easy I realized, except for Prof. Dick's, but that class is so impossible that I've resigned myself to the futility of even starting. But that's the second thing I need to turn around: I have to stop blowing off that class. Maybe if I start getting more excited about the material, I won't mind so much that I hate sitting through class and listening to the lectures (which is the same goddamn thing everyday: look at the ways in which Roman poets assimilate and reinvent Hellenistic poetry; and, here's a reductionist way of looking that this poem, but one should not read it like a reductionist. Response: do the words "duh" mean anything to you?).

Friday, November 11, 2005

The Flower-Delivery Guy, the Real Estate Rising Star, and "Rory Jackon"

I was talking with a friend just now about The OC. He has this theory that Charlotte's (Jeri Ryan) boyfriend - or as I would say, the suspiciously good-looking flower-delivery guy - might be the same guy as the character Matt Ramsey, the younger associate of the company that's looking to buy the Newport Group. I thought this guy was potentially shady. If my friend's theory is true, I would be right that he is shady, and he and Charlotte would be working on a double-sided scam against the Cohens. Bam Bam (my conspiracy theory friend) pointed out, rightly I think, that Charlotte's boyfriend is as of yet a floating character.

Neither of us remember the faces well enough to say for sure, and IMDB wasn't too helpful either. It didn't even mention the Matt Ramsey character in its guest star listings, and it placed Glen (the flower-delivery guy) in the wrong episodes.

However! In the course of my looking through the guest stars, I discovered that TOM WELLING is making a cameo in next week's episode!!! The best of both worlds collide.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

It's a Bikini World (1967)

Yet another fine film in the beach party genre. This time, there is no Annette Funicello, but a certain Deborah Walley. She actually wears a bikini, so I'm of the opinion that she is a bit more suited to this kind of thing. Oh, and she plays a feminist. The layers, the depth.

Here's another strange thing: imdb lists The Big Lebowski as a beach-party movie. I must have blinked during that part of the movie, because the only beach I remember is the one where they scatter Donny's ashes. Am I wrong? No, I'm not wrong, I'm just an asshole.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

50 First Dates

That was actually a pretty good movie. I thought it was going to be more gag-based, because I misunderstood the premise as being a case of only the short-term memory being gone, so that after Adam Sandler weathered through the first 50 days, he'd be in the clear and stored in Drew Barrymore's long-term memory, and all would live happily ever after. The actual premise of the movie is a lot more realistic than that, and a bit of a tragicomedy. However, all the schticks that are present in every Adam Sandler movie - like, the manly chick archetype, the Rob Schneider archetype, etc. - prevents one from taking this movie too seriously, which is kind of a shame.

* * *

On a totally tangential note, I have to say that I'm kind of getting tired of w. guys, ie the Hegemony. They can be such pompous idiots. I was at the post office today, and in my haste I just went up to the front dest and said I needed a next-day delivery, without filling out the Express Mail label. The lame postal worker just raised his arm and pointed, all solemn-like. What the fuck does that even mean?? I didn't say this, but I made the gesture (hands thrown up in exasperation) and rolled my eyes, and only then did he do the normal human thing of actually telling me that I needed to fill out the label. Like I was supposed to just guess from his pointing at me.

So Screwy; On Boundaries

This has got to stop. I'm living this totally amorphous life without any boundaries, which sounds really cool and bohemian in theory, but it practice it just plain sucks. Mostly I have no boundaries between night and day, because I sleep all the time then get bouts of insomnia; like tonight. I wasn't able to get to sleep on Sunday night after midnight, so I went through all of Monday, I mean really really painfully, in a haze. Then I crashed as soon as I got home, which was around 6pm, then woke up again in the middle of the night and couldn't get back to sleep.

Other boundaries: meal times, because I eat all day long; work and play, because my weekends look just like my weekdays in that I barely leave my apartment. This is especially bad because I've turned my castle, my home, into my own personal hellhole and crawlspace. At first I started doing all my work at home because I thought, I love my home and it's so comfortable and convenient and has food and beverages and is way cheaper than going to a coffeehouse to work. But the problem with that is now I associate my home - my comfort space! - with work and punishment and shutting myself up until tasks x, y, and z are done - like some kind of Pit of Despair. And then there's no concept of reward, either, because after x, y, and z are done I don't go out, but wallow some more instead (at least, that was this weekend) in the same space. This has definitely got to stop. I think I should even put an end to reading in bed, because even my bed has stopped being comforting, and it's better to have that contrast of being uncomfortable while I'm doing homework, and then being comfortable when I'm sleeping.

Monday, November 07, 2005

Dick Move

Honestly, I'm trying to like one of my professors who is a really good friend of a really good friend, and foxy to boot. But he never stops reminding me that he's a total dick, and I can never forget that I actually can't stand his class.

"No, Rex, that's wrong. Does anyone here agree with what Rex is saying? (Pause. Pause.) No? Okay, then."

Saturday, November 05, 2005

Scorpio

Asshole #1 turns 30 today. Ha! I guess that's my sweet revenge, because now he's a washed-up has-been. And still, it's amazing: how can someone so ancient be so shallow? I thought the old were supposed to be wiser than that.

Fashion Industry Take Note

I went to the mall the other day and asked the sales wench if they had any legwarmers; she practically laughed at me and said, "I haven't seen those for...years!" "They were in last year," I replied knowledgeably. Stupid bumpkin-ass ho, can't tell fashion from your backwards provincial world.

This season, the only place that has legwarmers is ebay. Most of them come from the UK (Europeans more fashionable than Americans), meaning more dough, otherwise I would have bid on some. Almost all the decent looking ones have bids, and many of them have 2 or 3 or more bids. What does that tell you?

There is a demand for legwarmers!!

Thursday, November 03, 2005

OC Quote of theDay

Sandy:
"I for one love the tofu. To-fina (sp?). To-furkey. To-bagle. With cream to-cheese."

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Korn Finally Does Something Right

I just saw this video from Korn in which they recast themselves with black celebrities - the best one being Snoop Dogg as Munky. If I think about it, I don't think I've seen Snoop in a single acting role that wasn't rabidly fantastic! Everything he does is just so perfect...perfectly hilarious.

Quote of the day:
"Our band is like barbeque. We're different kinds of meat, but we're all smothered in the same sauce."

I Don't See How He Can Have a Girlfriend

The other day I was sitting in a class, taught by our fabulous librarian, with a special guest professor who is not only famously accomplished, but also famously gay. He was wearing a vibrant blue cable-knit sweater (I'm thinking Ralph Lauren, judging by the color) set off by a baby blue collared shirt. Before leaving, our fabulous librarian leans in gingerly and picks something off the other professor's baby blue collar. "You had some fluff there," he says. "Thanks," says the Ralph Lauren.

Does this not look like a very obvious exchange that would happen between two gay men? But here's the baffler: our librarian has a known girlfriend, with whom he has been caught before in PDA.

Did I mention that half the faculty here is gay? And did I also mention that our fabulous librarian has a lisp? A LISP! Who talks with a lisp except the ones who are purposely trying to tell you something? So what I can't understand is how our fabulous librarian could possibly be straight, and why he would have a problem with coming out. Because he's fabulous not only because of his lisp and his hand gestures, but also because he's an authentically cool guy who seems confident enough about himself and non-judgmental enough about others. So WTF? Times like this I think I have no gaydar whatsoever.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Karaoke

The best thing ever! I went last night for Halloween festivities. Let me tell you, my "Welcome to the Jungle" brought down the house! So much, so much fun.