Welcome to our fair village. No StAr SyStEm. Village. StAr SyStEm.

Yo! Dorothy! You ain't in Kansas anymore. You in college. You also in the Art Department. And guess what that means, suckah. Yeah.

#1: Your world now consists only of your bedroom, the city bus, the far corner of the university bookstore, and Cadwallader Art Center. If the art people had their way, your world wouldn't also consist of the LS Hall and your writing class, but it does.

#2: Your time is now devoted solely to homework. Yep, that means that the Friday you thought you had off. Uh-uh. You're still gonna be bussin in and punchin' your 9-5. Saturdays too, seeing as you insist on observing Sundays traditionally. We'll have to cure that eventually.

#3: You don't know anyone in the Art Center, and anybody you do know is taking classes all the way across campus, and you'll never see them.

#4: Your professors swear, and paint pictures that make a mockery of the Bible. Also, you'll have to learn the Art professor's language.

#5: All those "Mariner Late Nights", excercise classes, and anything else recreational? Forget it. Oh, and those long "breaks"? They're for catching up in your writing class, if you aren't too far behind in art. Eventually you'll end up living and even sleeping in the Art building, unless you make a friend who has a nearby apartment who will let you use their couch.

So... what does this mean for the blog? I suspect that I won't be able to post a whole lot, but I am not quitting blogging. Even if it is just linking to YouTubes until something better comes along, the Gunfighter shall prevail!!!!!!

Cabaret...

There's a Murphy's Law out there that says "If you have just learned the meaning of an obscure word that you could live a whole life without knowing about, but somehow found out about it and wondered halfheartedly what it was, it is going to pop up at frequent intervals for the rest of the month." Take cabaret, for instance... I first came across this word in the paper, as part of the self-proclaimed description of some little band that was going to open for the Panic! At The Disco show. "Cabaret-rock," they called themselves, and apperently were trying to mix classical into it or something, which heretofore has only worked in metal opera. Anyways, I asked myself what "cabaret" meant, got the reply of "I don't know," and dropped the issue. Well, as I, a couple days later and out of sheer boredom and laziness, was thumbing through the hinter pages of the Your Life section of the newspaper, I came across a review of a play. Can you guess the name of this play? Very good- "Cabaret" is correct. From this review, I learned that cabarets are some specific form of bar/speakeasy sort of thing, with dancing, performances and whatnot. The cabaret mentioned in particular being of the "located in pre-Nazi quickly becoming Nazi Germany" variety. And it came as little suprise to me, a week or so later, that when I looked up "beatboxing" on You Tube, one of the titles caught my eye. Taylor Aldredge, performing at Hunterdon Central Caberet. And I make no apologies for sticking You Tubes into most of my recent posts. I happen to think that You Tube is almost as useful and revolutionary as sliced bread. Except it's meat and drink to the sense of humor, not to the corpus.

One more Right Brothers Video

I had to post this... just had to. So ignore what I said in the last post about scrolling down to see "I Want To Live". Here it is.

Here fishy fishy fishy!`

I went fishing last night, with my brother, my dad, and my dad's friend, on the Applethorn River. Dad's friend lives on the river, and it's been something of an annual tradition of ours since Dren got bit by the fishing bug. Being as it's a river, the fishing and fish are somewhat different than what I'm used to. Your hook and sinker are always bumping against rocks, so I have trouble telling what is a strike and what is just a blinkin' rock. Also, you have trees and snags and a current to work with. All this notwithstanding, we have a great time. Last night was pretty much the greatest fishing I've ever witnessed. Darren pulled 4 smallmouth out just from the dock as we were loading up. Then we just crossed the river, illegally tied up at someone elses dock, said hello to the neighbors and proceeded to pull another 20 smallmouth out from the immediate area. One could conclude that they were hungry. After a while we decided that it was just too easy, and we had to actually do some fishing, so we headed down the river, catching just enough fish to make it interesting. We even got a totally random bluegill and a couple catfish. Catfish are cool. They are grey with pink and black spots, and their tails look like shark tails... Seriously sweet. The crowning glory of the trip, however, was earned by Dad, who bears the distinction of having caught a duck and a nice smallmouth in one cast. The duck was of the dim-witted strain of mallards, and was under the delusion that our bait and lures were actually bread. It had been follwing us for a ways, darting hither and thither after our lines. Dad, in blissfull ignorance of the determination of hungry ducks, cast a lure out very close to it. The duck sprinted over, and dove for the lure, coming up with it in his mouth. After a few moments of close scrutiny, the duck realized that the organic whole grain hoagie bun he thought he had was actually some low grade environmentally hazardous plastic and rusy metal hooks. He spat it out in distain. However, a bass saw no reason to pass up some perfectly good junk food, and promptly went for it. He let go just before Dad got him to the boat, though. There would be a lesson here, but the ducks apparently weren't interested in lessons learned, as they kept following us. The evening closed with me getting a nice cut when my lure snagged and the line I was holding suddenly and forcefully wrapped around my finger, causing a paper-cut like wound around my finger, from the edge of my nail to the edge of my nail.

Now, you may be wondering why I wrote a post about fishing. It is rather unlike me, and rather like my brother. Well, I did it, ladies and gentlemen, to provide the backstory for the following paragraph. The real post:

Last night, as my dad, brother and I were returning home from a fishing trip, we were listening to the Laura Ingram show. It's a really great show, and my Dad prefers it in some ways to Rush, Hannidy and Savage. Only problem is, it plays at 8-9/10 or so at night, and who listens to talk shows at that ridiculous hour? Anyways, we (happily) were listening tonight. One Tammy Bruce was filling in, and at some part of her show, she said she was going to play a song I had never heard of before. "Bush Was Right" by The Right Brothers. This is what we heard.



All I have to say is: FINALLY!!!! People can rock out without compromising their political beliefs!!!!! Right Wing Punk Rock!!! WHOOOHOOO!!!!!!!

Catch more of their songs on their MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/therightbrothers The only good MySpace I've ever seen. Scroll down to find the "I Want To Live" video. You'll cry. LINK TO 'EM AND SPREAD THE WORD!!!!!!

50th Post

Egad! It's the 50th post already. There are many sentimental and reflective things I could say to mark this somewhat auspicious occasion, but I'll need them for the upcoming 1-year anniversary so the 50th post will instead be marked by the new header and link updates. The header was a pretty big victory for me, I couldn't find the piece of code specified in the tutorials. Now that I've got it figured out, I hope to change the header every now and then when I find cool pics. I also have my links organized and updated. My muses are on vacation at present, but if you want to hear about how my summer is going check out Dren's exensive report on our week at the cottage. He spent a week writing it, and would appreciate feedback.