V for Vendetta

What a good movie! I wish I had seen all of it, then I wouldn't have been so confused. I had thought it wouldn't be my sort of thing, assuming it to be a futuristic sci-fi action flick, but I was delightfully wrong. It was Plato's Republic with a doomed love story, plus some casual Sex Pistols allusions, and a bulletproof hero. I never met a bulletproof hero I didn't like.

"A revolution without dancing is a revolution not worth having!"

How lovely.

A+ for Ideas!

Let's celebrate the positive first. At this point in my career I've ceased to believe in A+'s - and in a field as old as mine I certainly didn't think there were any A+ ideas left to have. Nevertheless, my professor, the most notorious ass-kicker in the department, said I wrote a great paper that could be developed into a publication.

Unfortunately, he also said that the paper was a B+ in execution (so, rounding out the paper overall to an A-), because there were too many careless errors.

It's amazing that he called me out on it, finally. Carelessness was a problem I was pretty much born with, but no one (except my mom) has called me out since the second grade. Seriously. I had become rather good at hiding it, or disguising it as flakiness, which is different. That is, this time I had actually put a lot of effort into it. I guess it's time to bust out those old second-grade training wheels that my dad used to make me do, that used to drive me crazy, like writing down everything I have to do and have done, finishing tasks early, double-checking and triple-checking stuff, assigning special spaces for things I'm likely to lose, having a regular bedtime, etc.

Just to give you an example of how embarrassing my carelessness has become: I accidently started talking about "metis" as if it were "menis" in my paper. This is more or less unforgiveable because "menis" is the programmatic first word of the Iliad. You can imagine my horror when I realized what I had done. I'd say I was LESS embarrassed when my mom started broadcasting old home videos this weekend of me at age 4, bumbling around and singing and cartwheeling and picking fights and generally making an ass of myself.

There's a Retarded Monkey in this Coffee Shop

The girl in line in front of me ordered a mocha and a muffin. She paid for it with a check. Then she started to sign the receipt until the barrista told her that it was the customer's copy. Then she interrupted me while I was ordering in order to ask the barrista to transfer her drink from a paper cup to a ceramic mug. Then she asked for the paper cup back, because it was slightly bigger than the mug and she wanted to drink what was left at the bottom.

And that's only the retarded monkey I know about.

Hail Satan!

My favorite tribute to the holidays.

Wow, I Wish I Were Dead

I think it's a true testament to how dedicated I am to my work that I actually got on that plane and came back here, after such a great weekend. Three hours of sleep on the plane, several cups of coffee, and getting ready to teach at 10am. To teach the Republic. It's what brings me back here, when everything I love in life is there: family, dog, sleeping in, eating, karaoke, mindless marathons of TV shows on DVD (Ali G; some Renegade), beach, champagne, good-looking people just because they choose not to live in their sweats, street lamps, and of course, angst. I'm from the suburbs, so me and angst are like old best friends.

My cousin got married a few hours ago and I surprised myself by feeling a little bit jealous. Usually my response to weddings is, "HA! suckers..." + a real congratulations - so it must be a sign of that old biological clock when I find myself asking, "How did those two schmucks find someone to pledge away the rest of their lives to them, while I have yet to coerce even a semi-long-term commitment successfully?" Whatever (I do what I want! hehe). I like my freedom as long as I'm pretty - but that's a hellava conditional.

Some highlights from the wedding: I'd say it's a toss up between my brother shouting that my cousin's husband is hella whipped, and me shouting that a particular nationality is all "imperialist pigs," only to realize a split second later that I just called my cousin's new bride an imperialist pig.

Getting Ready for Thanksgiving. Or Not.

I'm so freakin hungry. This past week I've been not eating or eating very badly (pizzas, hamburgers, ramen, pastries) because I'm going away for Thanksgiving and I don't want to go grocery shopping. If I were just eating oatmeal all day that would be one thing - thenI'd be in top slim shape for that turkey. But no, instead I've been eating out, and fat people's food at that.

The good thing about all this is that I'm inevitably cleaning out my refrigerator. Seriously, some of that stuff has been there for months. I can get away with it because I have a super-refrigerator that's extra cold, but still it makes you wonder if I'm not just munching on mold all the time.

I'm Just a Dancing Partner

Am I just another dancing partner?
Do you smile at every boy this way?
Do you hold them all until they're breathless?
Do you always find nice things to say?

When this dance is over
Will you dance with me once more?
My heart tells me
You're the love I'm longing for
If I'm just another dancing partner
Then I wish this dance would never end

I've Officially Arrived

Last night I got hit on by a person who is not of my sexual persuasion. I like to think this means I'm so good-looking that no one can resist my charms. However, this person was not very young and not very good looking, so I hope this does not speak about what league I'd be in if I were of the other persuasion.

I also learned last night that there's never a very good time to say, I don't play for your team. Better to accept the compliments and take the number, and then mutter something about being so drunk that you probably won't remember this the next day.

Draino Doesn't Work

The more effective thing to do is to plunge the drain. Thanks to the amigo who offered me the suggestion. I think I got that problem under control now.

But I still have no cable and no internet at home. And last night I was a hair's breadth away from losing my phone too, which would have been a disaster. Funny story, it was around midnight when I decided I needed to call up my friend to tell him some meaningless gossip, and that's when I discovered I didn't have my phone. Luckily I was able to go back and get it. God bless the meaningless gossip.

On Thursday night I went out with a ugrad friend and some grad friends, and they made me cry by recollecting what an loser asshole I used to be - in the process of complimenting how far I had come, ha. Beware of two worlds colliding. You think you're man enough to own up to your past, but then... But then it's even more embarrassing to show that you're not man enough, and everyone feels bad, and that only makes you cry harder.

Comcast Sucks

It turns out that I wasn't cheating the system and getting free internet, as I had thought; Comcast had simply sent me the wrong bill, and on the right account they had me down as a deadbeat until they cut off all my cable services yesterday.

Fuck em all.

Another Fine Ice-T Performance

Well, maybe not so much the Ice-T, but a fine performance overall. Someone explain to me the last joke...

Bacchylides 17 - translation for my paper

[Theseus to Minos:]

Whatever all-powerful fate assigns to us from the gods and however the scales of Justice lean, we will fulfill the doom that has been given to us, whenever it comes. But you, check your unbearable intention. Although the dear daughter of Phoenix, maiden among mortals and lovely of name, bore you, mingling in the bed of Zeus under Ida's ridge, even so the daughter of wealthy Pittheos bore me after being approached by the sea-lord Poseidon, and the violet-haired Nereids gave her a golden veil. Therefore I urge you, warlord of the Knossians, to restrain your hubris, the cause for much groaning; for I would not wish to see the lovely immortal light of Dawn, if you should overpower any of these youths against her will. I will sooner show violence from my hands; and a god will decide the outcome of future events.

Politeness Theory

I'm reading a book on a sociolinguistics field known as politeness, which believe it or not counts as a real academic category - craziness! This stuff is completely absurd. I get the sense that it's merely the clueless obsessing of academics who don't the foggiest idea of what politeness is. In other words, the ivory tower par excellence; if these loser professors weren't so awkward themselves, they wouldn't feel the need to codify some of these patterns, like for example:

"I say, Fred, old boy.
[not an utterance explicitly realising linguistic politeness; an example of positive politness strategy 2: Exaggerate sympathy, approval]
Would you mind me borrowing your lawnmower this afternoon?
[an example of the negative politeness strategy: Be conventionally indirect]
Mine's in for repair at the moment.
[not an expression of linguistic politeness, but is it interpretable as such in this context?: an example o fthe positive politeness strategy: Give reasons or ask for reasons]"
(Watts, Politeness, 2003)

Isn't that unreal? I'd be so annoyed if someone tried to extract favors from me by addressing me as "old boy," or even a less dorky equivalent thereof.

New Morning Show?

I lamented a while ago that my plan to wake up to Saved by the Bell every morning has been foiled by TBS moving it's time slot back an hour. Since then I've tried on some unsatisfactory substitutes, like Charmed, but now I think I might have a better solution: Ice-T's Rap School on VH1. Unfortunately it does not air regularly in the mornings, and it comes on a bit later than I would like. But I caught a bit of it this morning and...that show is GOLD! It has all the buffoonery that you would want out of a reality show, but it's also very sincere and cute, since the rap students are little kids; they're at the age where it's actually appropriate to have those kind of aspirations (ie to be a rapper) and their learning curve is much faster. You also get to see Ice-T throw down on some prep school brat when he starts to slack off and back-talk to the OG.

I've long since decided that Special Victims is the only Law and Order that I like - and incidentally it stars Ice-T as the team's narcotics expert. So in conclusion, Ice-T is a very prolific man.

Isn't It Funny

how the smaller your social circle gets, the more intolerant you are of the people in it? I recall that once upon a time I had many friends who got on my nerves a lot, but I still liked them in spite of their flaws; and even if I talked shit about them, it didn't mean that I wasn't going to get over it or that I didn't want to be friends anymore.

Now I find that the very people I was defending a year ago with my oft-cited "sliding scale" ("hey, they're not as bad as they could be...") are the people I wouldn't mind cutting out of my life - better die with honor than put up with people I don't like, right? One of these people is Shaggy, the douchebag who made me buy his beers on Friday. Another is now known as the Sociopath; nuff said. A third is a girl I barely know, a classic codependent who was like, "What the fuck is a friend?" until one day she finds herself single, and now in panic wants to grab the nearest buddy to gossip about Boys, and if she's lucky, hook her up with her next boyfriend (she all but admitted this to me in our 10-minute conversation, in which she asked me how I (= the perpetual single) tend to meet people - which is innocent enough if she sincerely just wanted to make friends - but then she went on to talk about all her contacts in terms of their ability to provide potential next-boyfriends). Ha, like I need another one of THOSE in my life!...

Then it occurred to me that perhaps I have so little patience for those types because...I already have enough of them among my friends! So what is it about this chick that makes that same quality so unforgivable? Why is it that I was able to put up with this irritant in my old friends, whereas now it's like a one-way ticket to my shit list? The fault must be in me, that I'm becoming more intolerant and misanthropic. If I keep this up, I won't have any friends left, so you'd think I'd resolve to mend my ways -

But then I think about Shaggy and ask: but really, am I wrong to refuse to compromise?

"Why try to save ten bucks and look like a complete douchebag?"

Another colleague is on my shit list, one who I thought, for a moment, was cool. After I had failed my Latin exam, this person gave one of the few appropriate responses, which was, "If you'd like, I'll read with you every week until you take your next exam." I was very grateful for the offer, so last Monday when we went to the watering hole to read, I bought his beers.

Today we gave it another try, but I wasn't feeling 100% and didn't have my act together. First I forgot to bring a text, then I went back to the department library to grab a copy of Metamorphoses VIII, only to find after I had returned to the bar that I instead got Metamorphoses XIII. At that point, I decided that it wasn't meant to be, and I really didn't want to do it anyways, so we decided just to hang out for a little bit.

As we were closing out I said, "Hey, I don't have yours this time, if that's okay."

"Well...it's not like it's my fault we didn't end up reading."

Stare.

"Do you mean to tell me that if it weren't for me, you wouldn't have been drinking all this time anyways?"

"I probably would have gone someplace closer to my house..."

And then he proceeded to stay for an extra 2 hours. MY friend from out of town (though part of our program here) is visiting, and we joined her party afterwards. I went home for a little bit, but the douchebag stayed, though clearly unwelcome; when I came back my friend met me outside with a "WHY IS HE STILL HERE???"

Yeah, I'm sure his Friday afternoon was in such demand that I was holding him back from something better, and in fact I deserved to pay a CANCELLATION penalty for his time!

I told this story to everyone, and one of them offered to replace this douchebag as my Latin tutor (the author of the title quote, in fact). I mean, if I'm going to be buying someone's services, I might as well be picky about it.

Wild Strawberries

There is something very odd and fascinating about this movie, and I think it has a lot to do with the way the characters interact with each other, or, how some of them don't interact with each other at all in any way that makes sense. I posit one of three theories:

1. I personally don't understand the conventions of 1950-Sweden's social interactions.
2. Swedish people are crazy.
3. The oddity of it all was aimed to make a very deep statement.

Right now I'm inclining towards 3, although it needs some further reflection before I'm sure. At any rate, Wild Strawberries wasn't awfully depressing the way the other Berman movies I saw (Seventh Seal, Fanny and Alexander) were. It is in fact lyrical and elegant (in spite of the rude/hurtful/egomanical way the characters treat each other), so I'd like to believe that the discomfort I felt with the movie had to do with the density of its pathos.

Cocoyannis' Lysistrata

P-U! That stunk! The worst caberet I've ever seen - and the only other caberet I've ever seen are those little junior high dance recitals that they used to do in jazz class. And who knew that Aristophanes could be so humorless! Or Lysistrata so schizophrenic? The acting choices were rather bizarre.