The Curious Independent Rants of Jeff Denison

Oscar Watch

2011-02-25T01:04:00.000-08:00

So what does $13.00 and 24 hours get you? Lots of things I imagine. Even more, if you live in the "developing world." However, for me, it was the opportunity to watch the unseen films nominated for Oscars this year. This would have been easier but, the Academy decided that they would bestow this honor on 10 films once again. Don't they understand, a young man can only deceive his friends and family into seeing so many of these films. To be honest, its because the movies have a restricted rating (Its hard being moral-less amongst the moral-ful).
The only film on the best picture list I haven't seen is 127 hours. I had the chance to see this film but chose to watch Blue Valentine instead. This experience was capped off by the fact that I was the only viewer in a theater for 200. It is however, the perfect way to view that film. Walking out from Blue Valentine I felt so bad for you married and committed people. Single life is the way to go because I sure as hell don't want to end up wearing those hideous glasses committed people like Ryan Gossling had to in that movie.
I don't really know how people decide what the best film of a year is. I would think it difficult because each film is intended to affect its viewer in a different way. So I have decided to make a list of least to greatest affect a film nominated this year had on me. Here is my list:

The Kids are Alright
The Fighter
True Grit
The King's Speech
Black Swan
Toy Story 3
Inception
The Social Network
Winter's Bone

127 hours-N/A

Now I am able to admit that this list is arbitrary. The movie I think should win best picture is the Kids are Alright. I found all the acting performances to be moving. Annette Benning as always truly shined. I realize that the King's Speech will most likely win and it was a great movie too. I probably ranked it a little lower because I felt like it didn't treat the final speech with the full weight it deserved. For heaven sakes Colin Firth is declaring war and everyone is declaring the King a success rather than treating the moment with the somberness it probably deserves. Social Network was good but it felt sanitized of emotion. The rest were all pretty good just didn't have the kind of catharsis the Kids are Alright had for me.
In the other categories I think best director should go to either Daren Aronofsky or The Coen Brothers. Both films had great vision. Best Actress I think its obvious I would want Annette Benning to win however all actresses in this category are great (I haven't seen Rabbit Hole so sorry Nichole). Natalie Portman will most likely win so it is a moot point. Best Actor is tough because I felt like Colin Firth should have won last year and Jeff Bridges should have won this year. What Jeff Bridges did was take an already iconic character and showed what it was like done well (sorry to those that like John Wayne). Colin Firth was good in The King's Speech but so much more understated, and moving in A Single Man. So Colin will win but in my mind it will be for A Single Man and vice-versa for Jeff Bridges. In supporting actress I have no preference. I liked Amy Adams a lot but also found Helena Bonham Carter to be quite good. Have yet to see the Animal Kingdom so I can't speak for Jacki Weaver but my heart belongs to Hallie Steinfeld. For a jewish girl to play precocious, tomboy, southerner so well I have to hope she wins it even if her big scene is with obviously CGI-ed snakes. Lastly, I really hope that John Hawkes, Christian Bale, or Geoffrey Rush win best supporting actor. It's a toss up. Yet, I have to wonder why Geoffrey Rush is in this category. His part seemed to be a co-leading role but I can understand the politics of it, not wanting to compete against Colin Firth. I like most people want not to reward Christian Bale seeing as how he is a complete Douche. However, what he did in the Fighter was fantastic, suddenly, and haltingly moving. And I found John Hawkes to be so compelling in Winter Bone. I would watch him endlessly. Welp, these are my thoughts, take them for what they are, the musings of an amateur film enthusiast. Here's hoping the Oscars don't suck.

Movies FYE won't buy II

2011-01-16T12:02:00.000-08:00

2 Days in Paris
About a Boy
Away From Her
Cabaret
Factotum
Fur
Heckler
l'enfant
Little Miss Sunshine
Michel Gondry Music Video Collection
Milk
Munich
Music and Lyrics
My Kid Could Paint That
Notes on a Scandal
Quinceanera
Rocket Science
Secret Agent Club
Smart People
Snakes on a Plane
Syriana
The 11th Hour
The Edukators
The Evil Dead
The Little Shop of horrors
The Lives of Others
The Station Agent
There Will Be Blood
Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story
Water
What Just Happened
Year of the Dog

Movies FYE won't buy

2011-01-13T10:09:00.000-08:00

A Mighty Wind
A Prairie Home Companion
A River Runs Through It
Art School Confidential Battle in Seattle
Born into Brothels
Bottle Rocket
Breakfast on Pluto
Bubble Chisolm ‘72
Easy Virtue
For Your Consideration
Good Night, and Good Luck
Hollywood Land
Home for the Holidays
Joshua
Lions for Lambs
Lovely and Amazing
Me and You and Everyone We Know
Murderball
Pieces of April
Pretty Persuasion
Punch-Drunk Love
RedBelt
Saturday Night Live the Best of 06/07
Savages
Spellbound
Strangers with Candy
Talk to Me
The Boys of Baraka
The Devil Wears Prada
The Dying Gaul
The Jolly Boys Last Stand
The Painted Veil
The TV Set
Tracey Ullman Live and Exposed
TransAmerica
Vera Drake
W.
Welcome to Collinwood
What the Bleep do We Know

MEme

2009-10-25T17:28:00.000-07:00

Hey everyone out there who still finds it to this digital neck of the woods. It is dark, scary, but often worth the fear inducing trips. I haven't blogged regularly for sometime. This is due to a cyclical brain pattern that basically revolved around the theme of hatred for self-centered rhetoric. I began to think that so many people are interested in only producing there are little people left to consume. I guess this super-saturation of digital voyeurism is an economic principle. And as more people put out printed ego-massage less people will have time to view them so make yours good so others will want to read. That is all.

Baby pedals

2009-09-26T16:05:00.002-07:00

This is a story I wrote for my storytelling class and I thought it might be fun to share with those who care.

Baby Pedals
by
Jeff Denison

This story begins like many stories, with a dare. This dare came from a certain Kenneth C. Denison, AKA destroyer of my universe, AKA hater of everything good, AKA my brother. Typical of brothers, we had a Whitney/Bobby thing going on. That is to say he was my enabler. In the summer of (Radio Edit) I had just turned six and for my birthday I received a brand new, dark blue, without training wheels bike. I loved that bike, it was like a transformative rite, moving me from babyhood to boyhood. I spent weeks with my mom and dad at my side trying to ride carefully, and not fall. Also trying to avoid the dreaded slime pond of Swazey Circle. This pond was lined with a mold previously unknown to man, I was sure. Because no matter what the temperature was, there was always a pond with that mold on Swazey Cirlce. Mold so powerful it was capable of making even grown men fall to their now drenched knees and then openly weep.
The dare previously alluded to was one that took me from my six-year old, six-block world to the great big world. It was to "ride your bike to Truman Elementary." Truman Elementary, TRUMAN ELEMENTARY, this was huge. Truman Elementary was my grade school and it was a mile away. To my six-year old brain, this was like going to Las Vegas, or California, it was practically in a foreign country. "Should I pack?" I thought,"No, I'm not going." But then that awful feeling came. I knew that if I didn't go, it meant that my brother was going to call me a baby until I was twenty-five. Unless I could just ride to my friend Chris' house and hang out there , then come back in ten or so hours. NO, he would want details. He would ask,"did you get past the pit bull O.K.?" I would freeze and then answer,"yes." Then laugh to diffuse the tension of the situation, like Michelangelo always did in TNMT. But he'd counter,"there is no scary dog, you never went, YOU'RE A BABY." My life would be over.
Resigned to my "Trail of Tears," I strapped on my new, white with confetti design bike helmet. I made my way to the big road. Cautiously, Slowly, shakily I rode my bike. I was doing it, I was going to make it to the grade school. I was a boy, no I was a big, brave boy, maybe even a man. Suddenly I looked with horror on a BIGGER street but, wasn't on the big street. How can there be a street bigger than the big street. I looked, I looked again. In my childhood wisdom, I decided, not only could I do this but that it would be safer to cross in the middle of this bigger street than the crosswalk. I could do this. I was basically a man minus the body hair.
So I followed Ronald's counsel as best I could. I planted my feet and looked both ways. Though wasn't really sure if I should look both ways for each of the seven lanes or just once. I decided I was riding my bike, Ronald gave no rules for that, so I'll make my own. I was going fast enough, so once should be sufficient. I looked, and looked, and I was off. Peddling, shakily I made it past one lane, two lanes and thre...I kept moving but now it was not just forward, but sideways and forward. Then my bike separated from my body, and I was flying and I thought, I'm not a man, minus the body hair, I'm superman and I'm flying and I'm pretty sure I can feel follicles growing in my armpits. I was alive, I was flying, I was falling. I was on the ground, my chin was on fire, my new, white with confetti design bike helmet was cracked.
"Are you O.K.?" asks a twenty-something, dark haired man asks as he exits the car that just hit me. Stunned, I'm not sure what I answered.
Sirens, that is what I remember next. A police officer queried, "Do you know your mother's name or your telephone number. Suddenly a familiar tune entered my mind. It was the safety kids. "I know my number, my telephone number 9-6-7-3-2-9-7" Funny, the safety kids don't really have a song warning you against riding across a busy road to prove your manhood. Even then I knew that was ironic.
"Hello," said my mother over the telephone.
"Yes, Mrs. Denison. I'm sorry to inform you but you're daughter has been hit by a car," replied the emergency dispatcher assigned to tell my mom about the incident.
"Really?"
This was perplexing to my mother because my three-old sister was taking a nap upstairs. After checking on my sister, my mother clarified,"Are you sure it's not my son?"
"Oh yeah, that's probably it. It's your son."
This was terrible. Not only was I not superman or a man minus the body hair. Now I was a girl.
I had been big and brave, sitting with the police and ambulance on the side of the road, refusing to cry. I wasn't hurt. I wasn't scared. That was until my mom showed up and then I can only equate my action to that of the tragic Teton Dam failure of the late seventies. My eyes rained enough to sustain a small Irish peat farm for at least two years.
I was taken by my mom to the hospital (I was too scared to ride in the ambulance) for stitches and then brought home. I was terrified, I hadn't made it to Truman Elementary, my brother was going to make fun of me. My Dad was going to kill me. But something strange happened. My Dad didn't yell at me and I wasn't a baby. I was cool because I had stitches and probably a scar. But you know, if it meant that I had to be hit by a car to prove I was a man. I was O.K. with being a boy.

Swine Flu? I just hope it's kosher.

2009-04-30T08:56:00.000-07:00

Just musing to myself about how the swine flu is raising the pandemic level roof and I am sitting here not even worried about it because I have finals to prepare for. It's funny how goals have a way of shutting the rest of the world out. I just hope the swine flu doesn't interrupt my study schedule. Oh and PS this is not the first time the world has seen a swine pandemic. I refer you to cheesy PSAs on the matter as evidence.

http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=20601124&sid=a0NYYjUy._xo&refer=home

My fantasy on a grander scale

2009-04-29T13:45:00.000-07:00

While in high school I would frequent a dining establishment. While eating there some friends and I become really excited about the prospect of choreographing a spontaneous song and dance number. We were going to do this by acquiring a blue print and setting up a replica to practice it in. Alas, this is about as far as we got into the planning process. I now offer a video which shows someone with the initiative to get their dreams accomplished. I find it so magical and would love to have been an unsuspecting audience member. Ok I love everything about it until it hits the techno and then I was like, "NOOOOO!You Blew it up! Damn you! Damn you all to hell!"

P.S. Did you hear about John (John and Kate +8) with the unidentified woman? How Scandalous. Maybe he wanted to be with a woman that didn't treat him like he was one of the eight? Gotta love it. http://hollywoodinsider.ew.com/2009/04/jon-gosselin-on.html

P.P.S. CHeck out the trailer for "Where the wild things are. It looks so good!

Perpetuating American Stereotypes to our English Cousins or Sockdology Redux

2009-02-22T20:04:00.001-08:00

This week the theater department at Utah State invited a company of actors to perform and give workshops about Shakespeare. The play they performed was, Much Ado about Nothing. This is the second production I have seen of it. The first being in London by the RSC back in 2002. The RSC production transplanted the setting to 1940s Tuscany. It was a beautiful production that was well acted and envisioned. I am always hesitant to see a play twice, especially when I have seen a good production of it. But, I figured there are so many ways one can interpret the bard so I would give it a chance.

The Actors of the London Stage, is exactly what it sounds like, a company of actors from "London" (One of the actors admitted he was from Birmingham). Yet, the begins of the company strangely originate in Indiana, Notre Dame to be precise.Intriguingly there were only five actors to perform the entire play. Now it sounds less natural then the actual presentation was but the five actors were able to, for the most part, effortlessly transition into playing multiple characters on a bare stage with relatively little props.

The five actors were decent with the exception of one woman. The actor who played Beatrice, Don John, Balthazar, and Dogberry's assistant was so enthralling I found myself developing a bit of an obsession with her. Now, that sounds unhealthy but, I think every now and again its OK to be intrigued by a highly talented individual. At least that's my justification and I'm sticking with it. I think the quality of her voice is what caused me to be most enamored with her acting. I can only describe it was honey for the ears. Her range was a deep alto. I am convinced that she could have made a script reading of the classic, bearable if not enjoyable. I guess she played Tash on Holby City for three years. Is that a big deal?
As is the case with heroes, idols, crushes, I needed to meet her but was to embarrassed to admit my infatuation to her. I didn't want her to think I was a stalker. So, after the show, I went down to the hallway where the dressing rooms that the actors would be exiting from were located. And then pretended to be looking for something. Then trying to act nonchalant I struck up conversations with other members of the theater department I saw in the hallway. I think there was a tone of desperation in my desire to talk because I could see it reflected in my co-conversationist's face.
"Oh let me introduce myself. I'm Jeff I'm in the department."
Then the various actors introduced themselves. The problem was I hadn't really thought out what to do next and it got quiet, real quiet. "Where are you from in England?" I ask. "We're from London," answers Jo one of the actors who plays Hero and Leonato.
"You Idiot!! They're the actors from the LONDON Stage. Then in an attempt to save everything I blurt out,"I went to England last summer, Northampton." This feeling sinks in, I've become that guy. The guy that makes everything about them and thinks they no everything about a place because they spent a month there last summer. I am surprised I didn't ask if they knew Amry and Dave. You know the type of people that find out you're from America and ask if you know someone in Ohio. The conversation slowly fizzled out and I left dejected. I didn't even get to talk to my crush. She just sat silent and aloof.
The next day I went to do taxes at the library. After finishing I started to walk to my car. It was a lovely evening and the sky was a burnt orange and to my right walking with a cigarette rested between two lips was the siren herself. As we approached the crossroads. I felt as if fate had created this moment. She didn't notice me or ignored me so I cupped my hand around my mouth and said "break a leg." She looked surprised at first and then smiled in a genuine and appreciative way. She said, "Thank you very much." Then we walked on to our separate destinies. And that was it. I felt good about our interaction and hoped she knew how much her performance had moved me.

I'm going to do it...I'm......going..........to.........BLOG!!!

2009-02-09T14:27:00.000-08:00

Have you ever left a CD after overlistening to the songs? Now, havce you ever came back to a CD you put to the side and been reminded just how much you loved it and wondered how you could have ever gotten sick of it in the first place? Well, confession, I just had that experience.
Back in the fall I had just returned from my religious sabatical in COnnecticut. With much time on my hands and little music to fill it I went to a most unusual place to search for music...Target. I know right, who buys music from the same place you can buy toilet paper. Or is that saying that is commonly associated with jewelry anyway. I was browsing through the CDs when I saw one with this cover.

"Hmmm, I thought, who is this man Rilo Kiley and why is he making a visual allusion to Hilary Rodham Clinton's comic masterpiece, It Takes A Village." When I saw it was on sale for $9.99(the highest price I am willing to pay for a CD). I was sold and this crazy mans image. I got to the old teal toyota truck I was given as a present upon returning home and popped the CD into my tape deck. And by popping it into the tape deck I mean that I had to wait until I arrived at a friends house. I remember putting in the CD at Willey's and Crams' apartment and thinking that this Rilo Kiley had an unusually high voice, perhaps he was a castrato. Then I fell in love. I fell in love with the passion of, does he love you? Loving the clever wit of such lines as"we could be daytime drunks if we want to," and then wondering if Rilo was a lesbian, transexual, homosexual, or creep in, A man/me/ and jim, a complex narrative taking on the POV of three seperate people. In short I dodn't know who this Rilo was but I loved his music and was glad I had taken his impllicit challenge of being "more adventorous."

Yesterday, years after my first experience with the band Rilo Kiley. I know now that they are a band fronted by Jenny Lewis, Vixen of indie folk. Leaving the apartment I decided to grab a CDs I hadin't listened to in a while. Condensation exiting my body in the form of once global warming gases I got into my car, turned over the ignition, and put the much neglected "more adventerous," in my CD player. I was immediatley pooled in seretonin and felt euphoric. Its moments like those that make life a little more enjoyable.

Blog...

2009-01-04T14:57:00.000-08:00

If someone blogs in the middle of the internet and no one reads, does (s)he really blog?

One Step Closer to finding out if Fifty Amandas could defeat a Gorilla

2008-12-29T22:11:00.001-08:00

Fox Reality Channel is officially the most frivilous channel on TV. With such hits as My Bare Lady, an attempt to find the next bug porn star, and Solitary 3.0, the show locking people in rooms to see who is the last to go crazy. Once again, one of those seeing a 700 pound person naked. It hurts to watch but you know it will hurt worse to know you had the chance to see that and didn't take it. Anyway, my focus is on Fox's newest show, Man vs. Beast. This show has dedicated itself to being on the cutting edge of interspecies competition. On the first episode(and only episode, I might add) there was an eating competition, a tug-a-war, a sprinting race, an obstacle course, and finally pulling race. The eating contest was between Takeru Kobayashi, hot dog eating champion, and yes, an alaskan brown bear. Next, the tug-a-war event, pitting a sumo wrestler against a large, female orangutan. The 100 yard dash included olympic sprinter, Shawn Crawford, a zebra, and a giraffe. The Obstacle course was a dignified competition between a navy seal and a chimpanzee.

Lastly and what I am most interested in was the pulling event, otherwise known as the duel in the deseret, between, get ready for it, forty-four little people and the competitor to their left, an asian elephant. The competitors were gathered together to pull a DC-10. The party which pulled the aircraft over the finish line first was the winner. My first thought when I saw all the little people harnessed behind the airplane was of a debate my friend Amanda came up with. I believe it was that 50 Amandas could defeat an African Lowland Gorilla in hand to hand combat. Now, I should first clarify that Amanda is small, but by no means a little person. Watching this competition opened up what I had thought was a closed book. Right before the race began the announcer declared his bias for the elephant. I thought that to be a bit controversial. As the intense competition began it was a tough start for the little people but momentum was on their side. They needed determination to win and anyone could see it in their eyes. "Look at these little people pull," announces the host and that is about when I lost it. When I say, "lost it," I mean the feeling that I was in a sane world and not caught up in the delusions of a fever-dream. Though I did "lose it" when the host actually said, "forty-four little people are going toe-to-toe with an asian elephant." The results, beast wins. I'm sorry little people you lost the race, oh and forty years of work to earn respect for little people everywhere.

My question is, does this mean Amanda would lose to a gorilla?
What I am certain of is that I will never look at the olympics or sporting competition the same. Oh you earned eight gold medals in swimming. Try outswimming this dolphin. What you won grecco-roman wrestling? Try some hand to hand with this polar bear. I am actually getting an idea for a new Man vs. Beast event. It is imspired by this poster.

A dead hang between man and kitten. I think I know who would win this one.

P.S. I found a list of possible techniques for forty two midgets fighting a lion which I find pretty applicable to an amanda vs. gorilla fight.

1. The “Dogpile” Technique

Whenever you’re coordinating a horde of fighters, the Dogpile is a quick, easy, go-to technique. It doesn’t take a lot of preparation or coordination, and it’s a great way to utilize your strength in numbers and at least buy some time to formulate a newer, better plan than “get inside of his mouth and attack from the inside”.
However, if you’re fighting one of the toughest land predators on earth, and that predator happens to be a cat, the dogpile is only a temporary solution. You’re going to have to utilize another technique.

2. The “Play-Dead-To-Human-Net-Trap” Technique

Han Solo and Chewbacca were caught in an Ewok net trap. Arnold Schwarzenegger almost caught Predator in a net trap. Also, playing “dead” got me out of P.E. class at least a dozen times as a kid. It seems logical that combining the two techniques would prove effective against the King of the Beasts. 42 midget wrestlers lying “dead” on the floor would just confuse the big cat. Then when he gets into position, the army springs on him from below! It’s perfect! Look at the exclamation point over the lion’s head in the illustration above. That means he’s surprised!

3. The “Single-File” Technique

I understand your doubt about this one. It seems like the only thing these midgets should be fighting is their way to the back of the line. There’s more to this technique than meets the eye, though. Because the lion is fighting one easy opponent at a time, his adrenaline won’t be able to take over. And adrenaline, as we all know, is a lion’s greatest weapon (behind huge teeth, vicious claws, and incredible strength). When fighting, each midget in the line should be aiming directly for teeth and claws with the one or two hits that he’s going to get in before the lion tears him to bits. Sure, the lion will work his way through the first thirty fighters pretty easily, but maybe by fighter 31, his teeth will start to hurt a little bit…just maybe.

4. The “Bungee” Technique

Bungee cords are great. They’re everything that we love about rope and everything that we love about elastic rolled into one. It seems only natural to use bungee cords as a secret weapon in a lion fight. It increases mobility and distracts and confuses the opponent. Lions aren’t used to fighting enemies from above, and if I remember correctly, cats hate things that are dangling on strings, right?

5. The “Vultron” Technique

Sure, and African Lion can work it’s way through 42 midgets in 12 minutes. But what if those midgets formed themselves into one super-sized fighter? The most promising technique for 42 midgets fighting a vicious African Lion stems from the bowels of history. It’s written on our money, it’s etched in our hearts, and we remember it from Vultron, too: E Pluribus Unum: “From Many, One”. Obviously whenever a number of small things combine into one large thing to fight, lightning is conjured (see image above), and that can be used a weapon in a crunch, too. Plus, even if the lion still wins, you’ll be able to say (without lying this time) that you saw a gang of midgets form into a giant and fight a lion. How cool is that?

Thanks to the Bushleague.tv blog for that last section about lion wrestling. I know I enjoyed it.

Important Discoveries of 2008

2008-12-28T22:44:00.000-08:00

The inevitable capping of years approaches with the impending date Jan. 1, 2009. As I look through the slipstream of memories I have decided that I want to draw baseless conclusions. I have learned that I am the type of person that makes definitive statements concerning issues and then alter them down the line. I have discovered that I can be condencending and rude. I have found that it is hard for me to let go of disappointment, resentment, and food. I really like animal collective in a live show and will go out of my way to see them live.

The Worst concert I saw this year was by a new band I love called the Fleet Foxes. They were just really boring. They play beautiful music but were boring nonetheless.

My favorite new artist is a last minute find called Son Lux.

Though Bon Iver did come close in being the best discovery of 2008.

My Favorite movie I saw was a cartoon about a post-apocalyptic Jerry Herman loving robot.

The Best Play a saw was a tie between a Tryptich piece of theater about three souls stuck in a terminus and a remake of a Noel Coward movie called "Brief Encounters."

I found that traveling as I get older is getting to be a little more inconvenient. I am more grumpy than I want to be and less willing to admit it to myself I can't change that. I can't read. Enough said. Well I can't seem to stop from involunteraliy falling asleep or focus my mind in one cognative direction. Reading to me is like hurding the mental kittens of synapses I have in my face.
Next Year I plan on taking a more direct approach to the discovery of art, music, and literature. I want to focus on one playwright or an anthology of a well established musician, maybe look up an influential underground artist, or try "reading" books in the form on sound waves eminating from my eye-pod. If anyone has any ideas or good suggestions let me know. Otherwise I hope all had a Happy Holidays(I'm not afraid to say Christmas or Chanukah) and wish you a wonderful New Years.

Two of the most important events to happen to me this semester

2008-12-11T19:05:00.000-08:00

A While back I was introduced to what I can only assume is elementary school sack lunch as packed by a heavenly mother. This dissension of ambrosia came in the form of a chocolate brownie sliced in two with peanut butter spread between the two slices. Well I came home to Alpine for thanksgiving break and was taken to a hot new bakery in American Fork. It was called Flour Girls and Dough Boys. Anyway I went in skeptical and what did I find? A Deseret sandwich I could never refuse. What did Flour Girls and Dough Boys find? A customer for Life.
Secondly, I was given the oppurtunity to film a commercial in November. It was suppose to be released a couple of weeks ago but thanks to drunken frat initiation and girls getting hit by Utah State buses it was held back from being released so when people were asked, "Why not apply for Utah State?" There immediate answer wouldn't be, "Because I don't feel like being hit by a bus or dying of alcohol poisoning." So my "commercial" is now finally released via youtube. My question, Is this my fifteen minutes of fame? Because I felt like that happened when I was in the opening ceremonies and the olympic slide music video. Well enjoy, I am in three portions of the commercial. Funny thing is I'm not so sure I'm a fan of... Well never you mind.

thanks 1

2008-11-26T16:30:00.000-08:00

I am loving this website. Each day they put out a strip of Garfield without Garfield. John is musing to himself and it is either an existential exercise in learning to live with yourself or an example of insanity.

http://garfieldminusgarfield.net

Three Reasons I hate to say I love...

2008-11-18T16:48:00.000-08:00

So I have been recently trying out my new iphone's you tube application. I have found something new about me. I have to say I love Beyonce. I know I like a song if I find myself injecting lyrics into conversations in a snarky, sarcastic way. The three Reasons I hate to say I love Beyonce (beside the incredible rhyme scheme I just came up with) are presented here in You Tube form:

If not for the infectious beat and electronic trill, I simply love the dance. I don't know why but I can't stop thinking about it.

Ok, this is like watching Paris Hilton's my new BFF. You want to look away because it's just so bewildering but something keeps you looking into the jaws of the beast.

Lastly, this is a video the original choreography was based on and is remarkably similar to what Beyonce works with. I just love the afros, Bob Fosse, and the thought of Beyonce as a plumper white lady.

BONUS FEATURE!!!

For all those still watching this is a great video music mash. For some reason it makes me think of Whitney.

A Cooking Renaissance?

2008-11-16T21:23:00.000-08:00

Hi Everyone!! I am loving cooking these days. Today I made trail mix. It has dried apricots, dried cranberries, almonds, pecans, oats, and honey. I coated the nuts and oats with honey and then cooked it for about 15 minutes. Then I let them cool. After cooling I mixed another table spoon of honey and mixed in the fruit. It's all in my effort to be a skinnier J-heff.

Attempts at Tasty Thursday-Pumpkin Edition

2008-11-14T13:36:00.001-08:00

I decided to try my hand at cooking, something I hadn't made before, pumpkin Ravioli. Here are the pictures. Yeah, I said bam a lot just to make the food seem more fancy.

My Little Feelings on Prop 8

2008-11-13T00:30:00.000-08:00

It was interesting to listen to both poles of the issue concerning Proposition 8. In the end though I was disappointed in the decision to simplify vilification of one section, the Mormons, of the group that supported yes on eight. There were multiple religious groups that spoke out politically. When will attention be called to their bigotry? It concerns me that no mention of this showing a bias in editing of information concerning other groups that supported Proposition 8. And makes me wonder if the Gay Community hasn't fallen into the same attitude that you so vehemently protest. Would the protesting of the LDS church be received in the same way if the dissenters of Prop 8 protested the African American, Hispanic, or Elderly community that mostly voted for the ban on same sex marriage. I think within that context it would not be as widely accepted.
When I first heard that the ban on gay marriage I was surprised and disappointed. I was disgusted that people would go so far as to fast that the state amendment would pass. I hated that some people were told to pay their tithing to the vote yes on Prop 8 campaign. I was disappointed that people spent time in call centers trying to "educate" voters on this issue. It didn't seem congruous to a church which once practiced plural marriage. How could it be so vocal about the holiness of a union of just one man and one woman when it abdicated the sanctity of having multiple wives? Yet when put in a certain context I can understand the protesting and politicizing of the Mormon church on this issue.
This is obviously a moral issue and I don't mean to discount that but I am viewing this from a legal angle understanding the morals believed by the LDS Church and not questioning it to eliminate controversy. I think that churches, including the LDS church are concerned that the acceptance of gay marriage would create a law which would force their religious institutions to preform same-sex marriages. In this way I find it appropriate for a religion to become involved in government. If an amendment can potentially alter the way a religion is practice then by all means fight to protect what you believe in. This is what our country was founded for (Well, that, and to harvest ridiculous amounts of natural resources). I believe that everyone should have the choice to practice as they wish. This is the complication in these types of decisions. What we should focus on is discussing how we can extend this constitutional right and still respect peoples right to practice religion according to their own dictates. If other churches choose to marry gay couples then great, but an amendment should be more explicit in this regard stating explicitly that all churched needn't honor same sex marriage within their own religion but that Gay couples can have the civil freedom of same sex couples marrying.
Last Week was a big step towards a dialog between the gay community in SLC and the church. They are right that there does need to be a separation of church and state and that is on both sides. The state can not force religions to alter its practices and churches should not seek to legislate its moral agenda.

15 minutes of fame once a year

2008-11-11T08:03:00.000-08:00

it's that time of year again were my greasy head causes a severe glare on the few that tune into kued for the annual veterans day concert. Which I am told is a banking holiday. Can my favorite economist confirm or deny this rumor? Anyway, if you feel so include you can tune in on channel 7 and view my ugly mug. It is between 7 pm and 8 pm.

Election results

2008-11-05T00:37:00.000-08:00

With the election predicted I am glad to say it is over but know the day after an election is the beginning of the next election. John McCain was gracious in his speech and Barack Obama was surprisingly somber in his acceptance. And alas, my hip hop activist is without a room in the white house and believe it or not she is with child. Jesse Jackson's none the less. Why do you think he was weeping at the acceptance speech of Obama, because his baby mama ain't going to get benefits now! He is going to have to get his broke self some money to pay for that baby. With this moment in history I chose to post my smatterings on campaign theater I wrote for a comm class. If you want Whitney, you can stop reading here.

Stretching Definitions and Branding Minds

Every four years the United States completes its ritual of electing the nation’s leader. However within those four years we are always looking forward to the next election predicting what the future will bring in the form of the “most powerful person in the world.” It all seems to be part of being American. We are always searching for something better. It is within this frame that I hope to look at language within the “campaign theatre.” More specifically I would like to look at the role of language in branding a candidate and also identify abstraction as lies.
I had a dream. It was about the ubiquitous Sarah Palin. Now, I will be sparse in my detailing of this account but the basic premise of the dream was that Sarah Palin was trapped in a cabin with John McCain’s campaign team. She could do nothing but read prepared statements in front of a camera and the rest of the time she could do nothing. Now, this dream may not be reality, let me stress may. After, I began to think of John McCain’s campaign in the context of brand management. A key concept behind brand management is to increase the product's intrinsic value to the customer. From a pure strategy position McCain chose Palin as a way of solidifying his brand as a maverick. By choosing Palin, a women, he was seen as a person who made non-traditional choices.
It is with the principles of brand management that political campaigns go to the news looking for what matters most to gain "momentum." Candidate’s base their campaigns on words that increase their value in the eyes of voters such as: “hero,” “maverick,” “change,” or “hope.” While candidates seek to improve their value they will also brand their opponent with words that devalue them in the minds of voters, such as “Muslim,” “liberal,” “old,” or “status quo.” It is an interesting game because it takes the news away from why voters chose a candidate to who is voting for whom. This then informs how others should vote based on the popularity of a canidate or brand.
In this way politicians and media have become kissing cousins. News is deemed important only if it politicized. I interpret that to mean the news tells us what is important by making it political. So people in the media are looking less to the public for opinion and are rather defining opinion for the public and hoping we adapt to their message. Presently we have seen stories that deal with popularity polls. So candidates rather than focusing on solidifying their policies are focused on how they can get their popularity higher. Causing them to make vague promises and exuberant speeches were they say what they think the public wants to hear. You know, the equivalent of a high school student government election, where students are promised pizza in the cafeteria and a longer lunch period. Welcome to our National Student Body Presidential Election.
It is on this note I introduce the use of abstraction as a political tool. Abstractions are terms that are generic enough that they can be perceived to mean many different things. For example, the words, “agent of change,” was thrown around quite often during this election season. Agent of change in the crudest sense can mean a person who is going to change things. But what does change mean. To me it may mean alteration of health policy while to another it may mean someone who will give me change so I can buy a coke from the vending machine. My point, politicians use abstraction to get voters on the band wagon. Yet, it seems to me that it these promises are deliberately misleading. Politicians lie in a way that would have you believe they intend their words to mean one thing when their intentions are not what they portrayed. They overextend the meaning of their words to catch as many votes as possible but somehow after they are voted into office they alter their message, it becomes more defined, and invariably doesn’t mean what the voter took it to mean. For example, we simplify issues of controversy like abortion. A candidate will say I am against abortion. This is not clear though as to what the candidate defines as abortion. Is it all right to get an abortion in rare cases or does s/he desire abortion to be banned in all cases. Because of abstraction we miss out on those intricate details that may lead us to vote another way. This misleading is rampant in campaigning.
The Use of language to manipulate has been a long standing tradition in politics. I hope I have made some appropriate connections with the specifics I have chosen. However, I believe that eliminating some of these tactics in the long run would benefit the process of campaigning. Abstraction and branding are only two in a vast array of techniques used to mislead voters. Hopefully with this knowledge we can get down to what is important in a candidate.

Would you date me?

2008-11-02T15:22:00.000-08:00

I did what nate, laura, Tom and Whitney did but waited a couple of days to do it so I wouldn't look like such a follower. Here are my results:

Your dating personality profile:

Liberal - Politics matters to you, and you aren't afraid to share your left-leaning views. You would never be caught voting for a conservative candidate.
Stylish - You do not lack for fashion sense. Style matters. You wouldn't want to be seen with someone who doesn't care about her appearance.
Athletic - Physical fitness is one of your priorities. You find the time to work athletic pursuits into your schedule. You enjoy being active.

Your Top Ten Traits

1. Liberal
2. Stylish
3. Athletic
4. Adventurous
5. Outgoing
6. Big-Hearted
7. Intellectual
8. Wealthy/Ambitious
9. Sensual
10. Practical

Your date match profile:

Intellectual - You seek out intelligence. Idle chit-chat is not what you are after. You prefer your date who can stimulate your mind.
Practical - You are drawn to people who are sensible and smart. Flashy, materialistic people turn you off. You appreciate the simpler side of living.
Adventurous - You are looking for someone who is willing to try new things and experience life to its fullest. You need a companion who encourages you to take risks and do exciting things.

Your Top Ten Match Traits

1. Intellectual
2. Practical
3. Adventurous
4. Stylish
5. Athletic
6. Traditional
7. Conservative
8. Shy
9. Big-Hearted
10. Wealthy/Ambitious

Take the Dating Profile Quiz at Would I Date You

Would you date me? Even though I am pretty sure number 1 and 2 and 3 are lies. Who knows.a

My Agents of Change

2008-10-28T00:15:00.000-07:00

I am not going to lie I am frustrated about the candidates for president this time around, big surprise there. I kind of hate the cognitive dissonance of the rhetoric of Obama saying he is about change and unity when his campaign has been nothing but status quo. And John McCain is just plain crazy but don't get me wrong he is an American hero. I thought I would be forced to write in the Reverend Al Sharpton again. Yet something told me to research further, so after looking around I found Nadar's old stomping grounds, the green party. ME being an environmental studies major it only feels natural, natural like dipping fries in a frosty natural. After reading these bios I realized I had found my candidate. Thank you green party for letting me feel alright with whom I vote for.

McKinney and Clemente BIOs
Friday, 10 October 2008 03:13
*Cynthia Ann McKinney*

Since being elected in 1992 as the first African-American Congresswoman from Georgia, Cynthia Ann McKinney has gained national and international renown as a tireless advocate for human rights, voting rights and holding government accountable. McKinney's voting record reflects her philosophy that government should serve to provide uplift to local communities and the dignity of the human spirit. This means promoting the rights of seniors, students, the disabled, minorities, veterans and workers. She is known as a passionate, intelligent, charismatic and effective member of the House of Representatives and of the Democratic Party.

Cynthia McKinney's political career can be traced to 1986, when she won 40% of bicycle graphic the popular vote when her father, state representative Billy McKinney, submitted her name as a write-in candidate for a Georgia state house district, despite the fact that she lived in Jamaica at the time. Two years later she ran for the seat herself and won, thus making the McKinneys the first father-daughter duo to serve simultaneously in the Georgia House. During her two terms, McKinney gained national attention for her determined struggle for a fair and just reapportionment plan in Georgia. As soon as she was elected to represent Georgia's Eleventh District in Congress in 1992, the District was challenged by 5 voters and the case went to the Supreme Court. The Supreme Court dismantled the 11th District, which at that time was Georgia's second poorest District. Despite the Supreme Court decision, McKinney maintained that the decision violated the Voting Rights Act.

Where the Eleventh district had stretched from Atlanta to Savannah, McKinney found herself representing Georgia's Fourth district http://archives.allthingscynthiamckinney.com/mckinney.house.gov/d4/index.htm, which is one of the most ethnically diverse districts in the southeastern United States. The district comprises parts of DeKalb and Gwinnett Counties, two of the most dynamic and populous counties in the fifteen-county metropolitan Atlanta area. South DeKalb County is home to one of the most affluent African-American communities in the country. Likewise, Gwinnett County has consistently ranked among the top five fastest growing counties in the country.

Upon entering Congress in 1993, Representative McKinney was quickly recognized as a leader by her freshman colleagues when she served as Secretary of her freshman class, as the first freshman to head the Women's Caucus Task Force on Children, Youth and as Families, as Democratic Caucus Whip for southeastern Region 8. She later served as Vice President of the Democratic sophomore class. She would be rewarded for her service with appointments to the powerful and prestigious Armed Services Committee and the International Relations Committee, where she served as a Ranking Member on its International Operations and Human Rights Subcommittee. In this capacity, McKinney sponsored the Arms Transfer Code of Conduct, aimed at preventing the sale of US weapons to dictators, which passed the House in June of 1997.

As a former member of the International Relations Committee http://www.house.gov /international_relations_democratic, McKinney took a leading role in promoting stronger diplomatic ties with African Nations. She was asked by President Clinton to attend a presidential inauguration in Liberia, and high-level talks to open diplomatic ties with the new Democratic Republic of Congo. McKinney also worked to build stronger economic ties between the United States and Africa, and specifically assisted a number of Georgia-based companies in this endeavor.

After ten years of service, Congresswoman McKinney lost her seat in 2002 thanks to a concerted effort by Republicans to organize voters to "cross over" and vote against her in the Democratic Primaries. Her experience as the target of such an orchestrated campaign has been documented in a film titled "American Blackout," directed by Ian Inaba. This film, which won an award at the 2006 Sundance Film Festival in Utah, features McKinney's career as a Congresswoman and deals with the historical suppression of black voters in the United States. McKinney made a stunning comeback in 2004, a year in which Republicans took firm control of both Chambers of Congress and the White House, when she was elected once again to represent Georgia's Fourth District.

Upon returning to Congress, McKinney brought ten years of experience with her, but was denied her seniority status and her seat on the International Relations Committee http://www.house.gov/international_relations_democratic.This has not kept her from taking on challenging and controversial issues. On the first anniversary of the release of the 9/11 Commission Report, McKinney presided at a Congressional Briefing where dozens of experts and family members of 9/11 victims gave nine hours of testimony critiquing the Report's errors, omissions, and recommendations. Further testimony on 9/11 was heard at the Congressional Black Caucus' annual legislative weekend in September 2005, where McKinney also organized a brain trust panel dealing with political attacks on black musicians, including the MK-ULTRA and COINTELPRO programs conducted by the FBI from the 1950s to the 1970s. McKinney has introduced a bill demanding the release of records pertaining to the life and death of musician and rap artist Tupac Shakur. This piece of legislation is modeled after another bill introduced by McKinney, the Martin Luther King Records Act, which would release all files currently locked up until 2038 pertaining to the life and assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

When Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf Coast, McKinney spoke out against the inadequate government response. A long-time environmental advocate, McKinney introduced a bill to be a comprehensive environmental clean-up plan to deal with the toxic aftermath of the hurricane. Another bill introduced by McKinney would deny funding to the Gretna Police for one year for turning away desperate survivors in the aftermath of the hurricane. McKinney has cosponsored numerous bills seeking relief for the hurricane survivors, and has consistently spoken out on behalf of the survivors, demanding that their urgent needs be addressed. She participated in the Select Bipartisan Committee to Investigate the Preparation for and Response to Hurricane Katrina, traveling with the Committee on a delegation to the Gulf Coast in January 2006. McKinney's 70-page supplemental report was the only report by a Democrat to be included in A Failure of Initiative, the Select Committee's Final Report. McKinney currently serves on the Katrina Task Force organized by the Democratic Caucus.

She previously sat on both the Armed Services Committee http://wwwd.house.gov/hasc_democrats and the Budget Committee http://www.house.gov/budget_democrats, and throughout her six terms in Congress has been a member of the Congressional Black Caucus, the Progressive Caucus, and has worked closely with the Hispanic Caucus and the newly formed Tri-Caucus. In addition to advocating and legislating for civil rights and the environment, McKinney has been a champion of veterans affairs, co-sponsoring legislation to beef up veterans' health care, and to grant work opportunity credits to employers who hire veterans. McKinney introduced a resolution to reaffirm the 1878 Posse Comitatus Act that protects the distinction between civilian and military policing. She has supported calls for a planned and orderly withdrawal of United States forces from Iraq.

Born in Atlanta, Georgia on March 17, 1955, Cynthia currently lives in south DeKalb County. She earned a B.A. in International Relations from the University of Southern California in 1978 and a Master of Arts in Law and Diplomacy from The Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University. Cynthia was accepted into Berkeley's Ph.D. program and hopes to graduate from that institution one day. In 1984, Cynthia worked as a Diplomatic Fellow at Spelman College in Atlanta. She also taught Political Science at Clark Atlanta University and later at Agnes Scott College, a women's college in Decatur, Georgia. Before being elected to Congress, Cynthia served on the board of the HIV Health Services Planning Council of Metro Atlanta from 1991-92.

Cynthia is the daughter of veteran Georgia State Representative Billy McKinney and Leola McKinney, a nurse of forty years at Grady Hospital in Atlanta. Cynthia McKinney is the proud mother of Coy.

*Rosa Alicia Clemente*
Rosa Clemente is a community organizer, journalist and Hip-Hop activist. Born and raised in the South Bronx she is a graduate of the University of Albany and Cornell University. A much sought after commentator, political activist, community organize and independent reporter, Rosa has been delivering workshops, presentations and
commentary for over ten years.

Chuck D says "When you need a dynamic, stylish women to get your campaign going or to get your organization excited about activism, Rosa is the person you are looking for, she speaks from the heart with truth, fire and passion. She is one of this generations' most important political voices and community organizers."

Rosa's academic work has been dedicated to researching national liberation struggles inside the United States, with a specific focus on the Young Lords Party and the Black Liberation Army. While a student at SUNY Albany, she was President of the Albany State University Black Alliance (ASUBA) and Director of Multicultural Affairs for the Student Association. At Cornell she was a founding member of La Voz Boriken, a social/political organization dedicated to supporting Puerto Rican political prisoners and the independence of Puerto Rico.

Rosa has written for Clamor Magazine, The Ave. magazine, The Black World Today, The Final Call and numerous websites. She has been the subject of articles in the Village Voice, The New York Times, Urban Latino and The Source magazines. She has appeared on CNN, C-Span, Democracy Now and Street Soldiers. In 2001, she was a youth representative at the United Nations World Conference against Xenophobia, Racism and Related Intolerance in South Africa and in 2002 was named by Red Eye Magazine as one of the top 50 Hip Hop Activists to look out for. In 1995, she developed Know Thy Self Productions, a full service speakers bureau, production company and media consulting service. Seeing a need for young people of color to be heard and taken seriously she began presenting workshops and lectures at colleges, universities, high schools, and prisons. In the past ten years she has presented at over 200 colleges, conferences and community centers on topics such as; African-American and Latino/a Intercultural Relations; Hip-Hop Activism; The History of the Young Lords Party; and Women, Feminism and Hip Hop. KTSP now includes an expanded college speakers bureau which has produced three major Hip Hop activism tours, "Dare to Struggle, Dare to Win" with M1 of dead prez and Fred Hampton Jr.; "The ACLU College Freedom Tour" with dead prez, DJ Kuttin Kandi, Mystic and comedian Dave Chapelle; and the "Speak Truth to Power" Tour a collaborative tour of award winning youth activists.

In 2003, Rosa helped formed and coordinate the first ever National Hip Hop Political Convention that drew over 3000 activists who came together to create and implement a national political agenda for the Hip-Hop generation. 10 days after Hurricane Katrina ravaged parts of the south, Rosa traveled to the areas as an independent journalist and her on the ground reports were reported on independent radio stations all over the world, including Air America, NPR, Pacifica Radio, Democracy Now, Indy media, Hard Knock Radio and many more independent and mainstream media outlets. Davey D, prominent hip hop historian and founder of the largest Hip Hop website: www.daveyd.com, says about Rosa...

"Hip Hop activist Rosa Clemente is one of the few 'non-mainstream journalist allowed into New Orleans where the flood waters and damage has occurred. She brings to us a heart-wrenching eye opening account of what's really going on... She talks about the smell of death in the air and how things are much worse then we could ever imagine." Rosa has recently been named as the Executive Director of the Hip Hop Caucus. In 2008 she will join other Hip Hop activists and community organizers on the 2008 Rap Sessions tour, www.rapsessions.org and has recently created the Latina Women's Political Network.

Last Updated ( Sunday, 12 October 2008 20:19 )

The Nebulous definition of "blog"

2008-10-22T12:50:00.000-07:00

So I'm sitting here doing what any good college student does, avoiding doing homework by updating facebook and my blog. Two nouns that have so saturated my life that I'm not sure facebook and blogspot haven't ever not been a part of my life, you know kind of like family matters. I mean can anyone convince me that humans didn't ever not have family matters or Ipods for that matter.
I am suppose to be working on my take home exam for stats but, instead I am analyzing the reasons to blog. Is a blog a sort of public diary or is it an account of a certain self you wont everyone to see? Though there are implicit assumptions in that last statement. Like right now I want people to see I am a nerd because I can use big words in context. But sometimes, in high school, I played the dumb kid because I thought people liked that. Yet, were those attributes characteristic I fabricate and completely false or are they intricate parts of my personality I choose to exploit for certain characteristics? Who knows, the very fact that I'm analyzing this is making me queasy.
Why? Perceived, imaginary, or real audience, you ask. Because I have a ridiculous obsession of the new MTV hit show, "Paris Hilton, My new BFF." I want to break up with myself. ON the latest episode of PFF (Here to and forever the acronym referring to this parasitic show) little Onch, the asian lady boy was kicked off for being fake. This is a man that messes around with gender in every way possible. At the "future friends of Paris council," Onch was placed before the clymitee and asked if he was real. He then in a surrealistic bit of performance art took off his make up for Paris to show that from now on he would be himself. Onch then went on the explain that he was real that with one girl it brought out his "bubbly and cute" side, and with another he was a "bad-ass." To which Paris said, "Sounds like you have a problem." AT this I wanted to vomit, just like little Onch vomited on the previous episode because he couldn't ride roller coasters. I wanted to vomit because I agreed with Paris Hilton, the woman who has given our generation social syphilis. I agreed with her, and I was ashamed. It's kind of like discovering ones nakedness I imagine.
Anyway, I thought about Lady Boy Onch and realized that we talked about this theory in Speech last week. Every person alters there presentation of self based on their audience. Maybe inside of each and every one of us is a LBO. I think of my friends and what I alter about myself around them. Wait, wait what am I saying. This is MTV. I am not learning life lessons from MTV. End of discussion.
HELP END MY ADDICTION TO PFF(I even considered doing the next season so I can become Paris' best friend forever, because we know forever is relative)
Anyway, is my blog me or what I want others to see me as. In a way yes and no because I have a severe case of asperger's and don't really know what is socially acceptable but based on my stereotypes I attempt to present my skewed version of reality that I think is cool to others. You know, like Paris Hilton.

She needs to lose 30 lbs. or gain 60 lbs. There is no place in between in Television.

2008-10-19T21:43:00.000-07:00

I love the thirty rock and have for so some time. The last week my ISP was not able to handle high content websites. The Second season of Thirty Rock came out on DVD in the last two weeks. Thanks to my $8.99 a month Netflix account I can watch unlimited amounts of movies and TV for free. This may be the death of the minute social life I have latched onto. My ISP works and now I am able to enjoy the comedy of erudite Tina Fey. God bless MILF Island and god bless office wives. I love Alec Baldwin, Tracy Morgan, and Tina Fey. I feel good now that that confession is off my chest. Is this what moving to Ohio is like?

My Grandma Posts

2008-10-08T17:56:00.000-07:00

Growing up my Grandmother was always the sweet old lady that lived in the tough part of Salt Lake City, collected yogurt cups, and was ferociously devoted to her religion. When I was about 6 she decided to serve her church as a missionary. This meant that she would go around attempting to bring people to her church. She was sent to Virginia by her church. One thing I remember is going to family events and listening to my aunts and uncles talk and laugh about the stories she sent from Virginia. They would tell me about this woman that my Grandma was sharing an apartment with (as a missionary of her church you were paired up with a member of the same sex for the duration) and how she just couldn’t get along with her. I remember them laughing about how cantankerous this woman made my Grandma. These stories were repeated even after my Grandma passed away. A Decade later, I now understand how these stories of my odd couple like grandma’s relationship with her missionary companion helped impart familial values.
Reflecting on it more, I can see that these stories were a way to communicate the importance of individuality, venting, and religious devotion. As I performed the same service, as a missionary for the same church, like my Grandma once did, I see how the values have transferred to me. At times I was paired up with people who had difficult personalities. Then I remembered laughing at my crazy grandmother and her missionary friend. She was willing to put up with an “insufferable” woman just to do what she felt her religion required of her. That value transferred to me and I told myself I was willing to as well. Even now, I look at my extended family now I can see that value currently reflected in the way they live. I would write home about how I couldn’t stand the person I was living with. I knew it was okay to vent to my parents because they were probably at home laughing about how I couldn’t get along with my friend and about what fights we had that week, just like they laughed at Grandmother back then. Most importantly I remembered that while my aunts and uncles did laugh at my Grandma for her quirkiness, it was a loving thing and not out of humiliation. From their way of communicating these incidents I was able to understand that it was OK to be me. They would love me even if I was quirky.

Opening Night

2008-09-26T11:53:00.000-07:00

I finally feel like blogging again. These last couple of days I have felt overwhelmed by all that I have going on including: 18 credits of school, a large part in a theater production, two part-time jobs, an intense inner life, and no social life. But now the show has opened and I feel a lot of stress leaving my body. Or could it just be Regina Spektors voice (sorry Whit!), she kind of relaxes me.
I am starting to adjust to Logan. Last night, I even made an effort to be social. I went Laundry Basket Sledding down this large hill outside our apartment. When I stepped into the basket I realized I couldn't completely fit so I let my feet hang out the front and pushed off. I started to move and closed my eyes and screamed. I felt the wind in my hair and opened my eyes, and found that the wind was blowing my hair not my motion down the hill for that had stopped and who knows how long I was closing my eyes and screaming like an idiot. When I had found I stopped I was immediately taken back to a place of shame! I was in a black bathing suit sliding down the blue slide only to find myself stopped. Yes, I was the fat kid stuck on the slide. In an attempt to get better speed I turned my self around and began to push myself with my feet. That worked better, I wasn't the fat kid stuck on the slide, I was the smart fat kid who got stuck on the slide but realized he needed to be innovative and figured out how to get himself down.
Last night after the show there was a talk back about the play and what it means. It was a fascinating discussion about communication, propaganda, and projection. I love theater, let me rephrase, I love good theater (OK I'll be honest I love laughing at bad theater also) because in it is so much about life. Something that really struck me about the talk back was about how passionately people felt towards certain things that I had portrayed on stage. Some of the assertions people had about my characters motives on stage were right on while others were wild inferences. Theater is what one brings to it I've decided.

Fate?

2008-09-19T10:09:00.000-07:00

Do you ever wonder is there is a moment in life that turns the axes of everything. One moment you are determined to be a meat packer in Duluth the next you find yourself applying for a master's program emphasizing in Dom Deluise Studies or Palin-tology(a cute title I saw on Time this week). I am looking back at my life, always a sign of maybe just a teensy bit of "the blues" as they are so called, and wondering when those great moments of change could have occurred. Was it the time Taylor Kaelin called me "twinkle-toes" while I was batting at a little league game in Burgess Park or the time I was talking to Jenny Webster in the 200 hall of Lone Peak and she asked me if other people found me intimidating. Perhaps, a major life change happened as I strolled the Streets of New York with me friend Trevor Wright only to find myself walking into the point of a finger belonging to a homeless man who said, "you are a very attra...no, wait," and moved his device of projectile implication to Trevor's face,"you are a very attractive man." I'll never know but somehow out of all the events that have happened I can vividly remember these moments because the created some doubt in self-perception and perhaps caused hyper-focus on things that don't matter. What I find so humorous about these events is that if I went back to those with whom they happened (minus Trevor) they would probably not even remember them. Yet, in the static space between my temples I can recreate them. Bizarre what sticks with us.

blogging while bleeding

2008-09-12T18:09:00.000-07:00

in desperation for cash I have gone back to blood letting twice a week. Apparently my blood is magical and allows people to heal if used. For my service I am compensated $30. Yes, another scheme by a corperation to squeeze the life out of desperate and poor students. What makes this entry unique is that I am actually giving the golden serium as I type. Yes this is how dedicated I am to the art of blog. Attached to my left forarm as some surgical tube with a needle at the end, inserted into my elbow pit. If you have never given plaa before you might cringe but really it is semi-comfortable. Actually the most painful things are the movies they force us to watch. Today Is an Owen Wilson film festival, and not his good ones. Sometimes you got forgive actors for doing movies just for money.
I've decided writing on a blog from a PDA is time consuming. I think I'm done.

Fat and Sassy

2008-09-04T21:50:00.001-07:00

State Per capita income(2007) Rank in US (’07) Pct. of US avg. (’07) Pct. change
Montana $32,458 41 84 +5.4
Alabama $32,404 42 84 +4.9
New Mexico $31,474 43 82 +5.2
Idaho $31,197 44 81 +4.3
Utah $31,189 45 81 +6.1
Kentucky $31,111 46 81 +4.6
S. Carolina $31,013 47 80 +4.2
Arkansas $30,060 48 78 +5.6
W. Virginia $29,537 49 76 +4.7
Mississippi $28,845 50 74 +6.7

As I sat through my Natural Resources Economics and Policy class I was bored, almost petrified that I would never find another thing excitable in life. My teacher was showing a power point presentation, otherwise known as the bane of a modern college students learning experience. When on the screen I was shown a slide which showed states which had the lowest per capita income in 2007. I was surprised first to see that Utah was in the lower 10 than I took a closer look and saw that the list for low income was similar to another 10 state list. Food for thought. Pun absolutely intended!!!

My Favorite Drug Themed Movies

2008-08-31T03:19:00.001-07:00

Meth Ad from around 1999-2001

Heroin Ad from around 1998

Pee Speaks the truth

A Puppet show which seems to be the result of a drug induced hallucination

My Favorite Cha-Cha Q & A's

2008-08-31T03:13:00.000-07:00

Question
What if I'm in love with cha-cha, and not absractly but a literal love that can only be fulfilled by physical means?

Answer
Well, since ChaCha give you all you need by cellular phone, just put your phone and vibrate and...well we love you too!

Visit Source Website

View info about your guide Ruth C.

Question
What was life before cha-cha like?

Answer
Why worry about the past... it is behind us.

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View info about your guide Peg Z.

What to Blog?

2008-08-30T11:03:00.000-07:00

I am in the northern highlands of Utah again. Though this time, I am not so depressed to be here (and then came the cold). I have been struggling actually to get to classes. I went to each one on Monday and Tuesday and I just kept asking myself what am I doing studying this if I find it so boring. I guess my Dad would say I need to adjust my attitude. Yet, I have had ingrained in my mind since the age of "Rookie of the Year," and "Blank Check," that man was meant to pursue what he loves. Granted, those cautionary tales eventually taught that it was silly to follow your dreams because you'd be more happy like you are. But, like most movie goers, I forget the message but love the jokes and way cool music. Perhaps these were movies funded by the Bourgeoisie to keep those pesky middle class kids in the income class they belong. "Dreams only lead to wanting what you had before," said Warren Buffet to the son of a school teacher. He then pats me on my head and sends me off to my future 3 bedroom 2 bathroom house on a quarter acre where my first wife, two-five years younger then I, and two children (rounded of course) will live until I have my mid life crisis and marry my daughter's best friend after she has graduated from college.
Wow was that bleak. I love learning but I think it perhaps hard for me to come back from perceived freedom to a structured schedule of learning. Perhaps the key to success is saying to myself, "I don't need to be here but I choose to be here. I learn because I want to." Who knows?
Today I Cha-Cha'd for the first time. What was the opening question? Is there anything wrong with thinning hair? My first response: There is nothing wrong with thinning hair, some scientist believe it to be a genetic defect. Yes, there is nothing wrong with genetic defects apparently. Maybe they are using the Webster's definition of defect because from Oxford I came to understand defect as a pejorative.

Happenstance

2008-08-09T04:56:00.000-07:00

Once again in London. Hopefully the weather won't be as devastating as last Sunday. Poor Felecia (a classmate), nearly got hypothermia though, I don't know how sorry I feel for her. She had the opportunity to purchase a poncho but refused with the remark, "But I love the rain!" I asked her if she didn't want to be seen in a poncho because they were hideous but she quickly said she really did love the rain. Well after one hour and forty five minutes standing on ones feet in frigid rain ones fondness for precipitation can easily sway. She shivered and hurried us to the train station to go home. Yet I found that my windbreaker, was just that, and not a rain breaker. I was eager to get out of the rain too. I have just resigned myself to the fact that on vacation I will be wet whether it's hot or cold. You see, I was just as drenched after a day of walking around Venice.
Today I hope to see some plays but to be honest I am waiting on money. Also I have looked at the TimeOut this week and am compelled to see no plays. This is unusual because I usually have a list of must sees when I come. Maybe this is a bad time for London Theatre. Yet, I will probably end up seeing something at the National Theater. They have tickets for students that cost £10. They release them on hour before the show. Umm, I just checked my watch and that is in 20 minutes. So I am off.

Rain in the Globe

2008-08-05T10:41:00.000-07:00

Lately I have been very scatter brained. We are six days away from performance and I am still struggling with memorization. I am attempting to dissect the cause of the synapes breakdown and as of yet haven't descovered it. I often get frustrated that my brain doesn't work the way I want it to but I am starting to think that intelligent people don't fight with their brains but work with them, or maybe it's the insane people that don't fight their brain. Well insanity and intelligents are pretty much interchangable.
The womb expulsion day has once again happaned and we have survived 7 years since the end of the world day. To celebrate we went into London and saw some shows. The first was a Noel Coward inspired piece of nostalgia based on the film Brief Encounters. Brief Encounter's follows the inception and imminent termination of a middle class 1930's british affair. Pretty tame stuff in our day but it is a classic and has a fantastic soundtrack of Rachmoninoff's moody piano concerto's. I thoroughly recomend the film for that purpose. Perhaps I will make it a thursday night feature. Anyway, the stage production was magical. To begin with we were in the front row and the actors playing the doomed couple sat right next to us as if it were a cinema back in the 30's. They sat politely and talked. Then suddenly the lights dimmed and a film began. THen the action began, the woman explained she couldn't go on decieving her family. There was a fight and then something magical. On the screen was a living room with an older gentleman calling Laura. He did it many times until the actor left the man and cliumbed on stage and with one last hesitation climbing into the screen. The next shot was of her with the man who had been calling her name. He hugged her and was so glad she had come back. IN the audience the man remained. He watched with sorrow as he sat back down. It was a poigniant moment. The film then began at the beginning of their relationship and I wondered if this movie and play we were going to watch was really the movie in this mans mind. Was he doomed to repeat these images in his head forever? ANyway that was only one magical moment. It was inventive and heartbreaking. It reminded me so much of why I love theater. Later I was given a bun by an actor. I consider it my birthday present though I am sure everyone that sits in my seat gets this prize.
Next we rushed to see a play at the glob theater on the banks of the thames. Thanks to a monsoon though we didn't stay for long.
Thanks to everyone who thought of me. I hope that I get to see you soon.

Swaddled in eight pounds of chocolate and clothes

2008-08-01T17:25:00.000-07:00

There is a new type of smuggling occuring on low cost airlines throughout europe. Many know that these airlines severly limit the amount of baggage and wieght one is allowed to carry on. Myself being terrible with metric wieghts always find myself scrambling to lighten the load. This new type of practice is wieght smuggling. Yes friends I was eight pounds over in Italy. My solution, wear about 8 layers of clothes. This of course is easier for the larger man. Yet with this normal precaution I was still overwieght, the bag not me. I quickly remembered the milka bars I was transporting. I slipped one into my cargo pocket and realized how inconspicious it was. 15 milka bars later I was on my way and the airline non the wiser.

The days of nether region

2008-07-31T07:59:00.000-07:00

Highlights of the last three days includes seeing a man being taken down by the police for being drunk. I use ˝taken down˝ seeing as how i was more of a passing out motion then police grabbing the man. I've bought dozens of Milka bars, bags of Softis, and lastly copati, which are ˝indoor shoes.˝ The chagral moments have been the heat which is causing severe friction in areas where fat touches one another. So far I've had a rash in my left armpit, on my arm where my watch is, and the last is past my perimiter and the safety kids taught me that I'm not to share that with anyone but I can tell them my number, my telephone number. Every night in the hostel I come home and just sit with my legs apart and curse my thighs. The people in the hostle are most likely offended but at this point in the trip I am far beyond caring if people think that.
So I have been on Elder watch since I arrived and I've only seen them once and wasn't able to ask them to let me in the new chapel. I want to see inside the new and only permanent LDS church in slovenia. They built it upon the rock, not on peter. But to no avail. Otherwise I have just been hanging out and detoxing from the theater group I have been with. Such negative energy do I feel whenever I was some of them. I need hits of seratonin when ever those people are around.

Things I miss about the States:

Not feeling like I was the largest man in the country
Earning Money
Best Buy Tuesday
My Family
Foriegn Film Thursday with Friends
Things being a resonable price

There is no place like home that's why I suggest you live everywhere

2008-07-29T10:02:00.000-07:00

I often sit and listen to the mundane thoughts that go through my, I don't really have a choice. Last night I was having a terrible time breaching the fortress that is the Slovene border. Unfortunately, the train I was planning on taking from Venice to Ljubljana was sold out. I was a little surprised because Ljubljana isn't exactly what most people are looking for in their European experience. Turns out the trains final destination was not Slovenija but Hungary, Budapest (home of the baby arm incident) to be more precise, which based on lack of train tickets must be wildly popular (but only after the fiersome five visited ealier this year, did the divided city achieve such fame, I'm sure).
So I decide to go to Trieste, as it is 23 KM from Koper, which seems to be the only other way to sneak in. I figured I could catch a bus in Trieste and then grab a train to Ljubljana. If I don't I am stuck waiting in Venice until the next night anyway so I asked myself what could it hurt.
I just realized that Tom took this train the day I nearly went ballistic because I missed my plane to Klagenfurt. I had to pay (but really my Mother) an extra $100 dollars to fly into Salzburg, 8 hours after my scheduled flight. Poor Tom had no communication from me because I was without money seeing as how Ryan air had shot me with a bullet I paid for. Tom got in around 2 am and I was suppose to meet him so we could go to the hostel. Instead, I walked like a drone around Ljuljana until I saw through clear glass St. Thom the saint of blogs. That was one of those days I was told to go home early because I looked like...well you get the point (mlos). I should add that the reason I was late for my flight to Klaggenfurt was because my Flight into London was an hour late and I waited an additional 45 minutes for my bags to be unloaded from the plane. In my mind I pictured a little Slovenian running around the landing strips inorder to prevent and landings and then moving on to the baggage compartment to cast a disappearing spell on my luggage, Slovenians descend from the Leperchaun linage of Ireland.
So now I am sitting in Trieste, which happens to be one of my favorite cities, so any excuse to go is fine by me. I get there and realize that there isn't a bus until 6 AM the next morning. It's at this moment I solidify my belief that I am not the Victor Frankel of my generation. Perhaps I am his antithesis. I started to get these feelings of desperation and lonliness. I was stuck in Italy with no place to go, no place to stay, and no razor blade to call my own. I wondered why I travel alone, why I am always alone, why I worry that I don't feel as close to people as I would like. You know those moments of cheesiness that you assume will lead to a paradigm shift but are quickly forgotten about after you've gotten what you wanted. Twenty minutes of moping later, I decide this is a blessing because A)there is no way I'm going to find a place to sleep tonight which meansB) I don't have to pay for a place to sleep tonight. Ahhh, the joys of being homeless. I gently lay my bag down (as my mother would be offend if I treated her bag with disrespect). I unzip the lockings lips of the bag, the container of my only possessions at present and grab a sweater to use as a pillow. The transition is complete, I am officially a hobo. It is more simple than one assumes. To seal the deal tomorrow, I will jump onto a moving train, and then playsoulful tunes on my harmonica for hours telling people I used to give water to the elephants at the circus until everyone was killed in a freak tight rope fire.
The time is 11 PM and I decide to set my alarms for 6 AM. I am off to REMless bliss.
At about 1:15 I am tapped and told something that didn't fully register. I had enough sense to mutter ˝no comprehendo.˝ Which I am pretty sure is spanish but the guy got the message. He started to speak in English asking me all this questions. In my mind I thought, ˝Oh, great its my first day as a hobbo and I'm already being arrested for loitering. The nice Italian Police Man asked me where I was going, what time I planned on leaving, and if I had documentation. I had the suspision that he thought I was drunk. I don't blame him. He then tomld me that I couldn't sleep in that part of the train station and they moved me to a halway where I and 3 other people slept. I wondered who these people were, why there were no bars in this prison, and who would rape me first. I was so tired I had no time to worry about my safety but, as a precaution I strapped my bag around a pole connected to the floor. Mind you it was just a strap and I'm pretty sure it could have been stolen just as easily. At about 5:40, when I could sleep no longer because the sweat left from the previous day was turning into a rash around my groin, I found that the minimus security prison I was taken to was in serious need of gaurds. The jail break was quick.
As I arrive at the bus station, I change clothes, for fear pictures already are circulating Italy demanding my capture and also inorder to prevent more heat rash. I stepped onto a bus driving me to freedom, Koper, we are driving and I see a sign that states we had entered Slovenia, and my heart rang with pride I had learned a lesson, that any problem can be solved by sleeping on it. I then took a bus to Ljubljana, this was the slow bus but it was beautiful. It went through mountains and forests. As we descended into Ljubjana most my anxiety had disapeared and I remembered why I fought so hard to get here. I arrived and immediately went to the center of the town. As I sat below the statue of Preseren(Slovene hero and national anthem composure(which incidently and appropriately is also a drinking song)), this sense of familiarty overwhelmed me, In the morning sun I see people I had tried talking to before in this very spot, I see people I never had the courage to talk to, and I see people whom I couldn't have talked to, because they usually only conversed, with themsleves. Relief fills my soul and I am OK. I think I love Ljubljana so much because it feels like my home when I can't go to my other one. And I am the type of person that needs one of those.

Italy

2008-07-24T23:26:00.000-07:00

Coming from England to Italy must be similar to going from Lincoln, Nebraska to New Orleans. It is a beautiful steaming mug decorated with ornate religious symbols which all spell out "God is our number one Dad!!" I am hoping to include more pictures and videos on this blog but have run into technological roadblocks of tron size proportions. All the computers at internet cafes seem to be 4 years old and without SD card readers. I guess you don't come to Europe for the overwhelming advances in computer science (big shout out to N-Shels).
Also a new goal is trying to be more positive about this trip because if Eleanor Roosevelt taught me one thing it was that only I can make myself feel inferior, oh and she did teach me that Lesbians can be the president of the United States by marrying a politician and giving him polio.
Well off to a Art Historians wet dream, the Uffizi.

The Inneptitude and Latitude of the crazy one

2008-07-21T08:58:00.001-07:00

Wow, I think my experiences so far in England have proven to me that hindsight is really some chubby 5 year old boy sticking his tongue out at you and giving you the bird. I only say this because of the sour taste of disregarded intuition. Yes as I was getting myself involved with yet another study abroad I had the distinct thought that perhaps it wouldn't be a good idea to go however, my desire to get away prevailed over that pesky thought. Well after 5 days of lackadaisical organization and whip-induced acting I can say never ignore your old Intuition. I am so sick of being here that I feel like running away and finding the nearest flight home. Yet I have been to China and Ghana and have pleasant enough times. Even there when times got bad I never wanted to leave. Perhaps it is the nature of my study. We are doing about 7 hours of "class" a day and then required to do homework outside of class. This would be fine except the class is only 3 credits. I am just venting and no one likes this so I will describe with absurdity what is going on. Two days ago we went into London. To get there early for National Tickets we woke up at 5:40 AM. The only reason I am awake at this time normally is to save the nation from bad music. At about 6 we trecked over to the train station which is a good 3 miles from where we stay. On the way there our chaperone told us to go right with the pretext that it would save us walking time. 10 minutes later we were in a location 50 feet from were we had been told to turn right to save time. I would excuse the lack of directional orientation except it had happened many times during the first couple of days and this was like the 15th time she had been to Northampton. Secondly, I was expecting a phone call from a friend that lives in London and I told our chaperon that someone would be calling. Well I was a bit disappointed that on the day that we went into town I never heard from my friend. The next day we were trying to get in touch with a local actor in our production and the chaperon could not figure out how to see if he had called so I called the voice mail line and found one new message and whose voice should I hear but my London friend. After I hung up I said, "my friend called on the eighteenth (which was two days ago)." The Chaperone's response, "Yes, but did Simon leave a message." I was so infuriated with her cultural and for that matter emotional Lag. Thirdly I live with the top competitor for most bizarre and mundane inquirer. I promise I haven't heard such inane questions in my life. It's always ,"Where are we? When can we go above ground? Who am I? WHy is the sky blue? Are you going to kill yourself with a gun or this passing car? Which is more annoying my voice or my complete lack of knowledge of proxemics." You know things like that. Fourthly, I have real issue when people take extreme latitudes with my time. I understand that we haven't much time before our one performance but I hate not being told a start and stop time to rehearsals and being told 12 hours before hand that we are having a rehearsal. The lack of organization is killing me.
On a final note, I am starting the P with Mr. Horton. That man is evil. Only a sadist could construct a work-out so intense and long lasting. I believe plyometrics won this bout. I don't really have a schedule and there are like twelve different work outs so I'm kind of just trying them all. Moral of story my legs want to hurt me after all I did to them.

The Shoe Capital of England

2008-07-18T08:43:00.000-07:00

I had just completed my trail of tears when a little one hung his window from the first floor of the Abbington Guest House run by a Ms. Spence. The spout, known as my forehead, was on rain and my clothes soaked. "What are you looking for?" hurled down the young lad. "The blanket infected with smallpox, please," I screamed in my mind but ended up muttering, "someone to check me in."
"Wha?"
"Someone to Check me in."
"Have you checked 127?"
I felt like I was boarding at an old school European establishment. I rang the bell at 127 and no one answered. "I stand at the door and Knock...I Stand at the door," Kept running through my brain. "Yeah they'll be sorry they didn't let the both of us in," I threatened cognitively then returned to my previous resting spot.
"Any Luck?" Asked the mini-face on the first floor.
"No," I answered.
"Did you go through the glass doors and knock on the next door?"
What was this kid, a senate inquiry council? "Yes, I did!!"
In a window three houses down I saw the familiar face of a classmate and he asked, "What are you doing?" I wanted to tell him I was waiting for Godot but it seemed existentially superior in tone, and that is not how I roll. I wonder how I must have looked holding the metal handle that was once used to pull my suitcase. This piece had broken off oh...about a mile ago on the "smooth" streets of Northampton. My clothes were soaked in sweat from the self-assured short journey from the train station to the B & B that ended up being 2 and a half miles in total. I must have looked pathetic dragging one bag while pushing the other broken in front of me saying various words that my mother has told me I can no longer type on this blog.because on my mournful sojourn an elderly gentleman took my bag and told me I was "struggling" in a most euphemistic tone. Oh well I suppose we all need help from our friends be they close or a random old man in England. He started pushing my bag and then asking my inflammatory questions about US policy (You know the typical European-American conversation). Then he started walking me in a direction away from the way I intended to go. Silently I followed but anxiety filled my gut. Who was this elderly Pakistani holding my suitcase leading me to a strange place. I began to picture a canvas bag over my face and my feet in water while I was being connected to a battery. About five times I almost grabbed my bag and told him this was my cross to bear, and mine alone. I would have sold Bush out just so long as I could live. Then we stopped at a corner and he asked me if I knew the rest of the way. He must have felt my fear. I said yes and began to march forward. I almost felt like crawling into the nearby park and finding a nice patch of trees and preparing myself to die. But I didn't, I continued remembering the proud heritage my pioneer ancestors. Pioneer Children sang as they walked, and walked, and walked. Funny enough that song mentions nothing about heat rash on their ever-rubbing thighs. Abington street was about a 1/2 mile from the attempted terrorist incident.
My classmate let me in and I entered my shangra-la. The place is wonderful. When I saw my begrudged Teacher she sayed, "Oh I sent you an email telling you to take a taxi. I sent it this morning was that to late." I told her no but inside I wanted go all french revolution on her Marie Antionette comment.

Melty Plastic People Making Fires

2008-07-11T16:58:00.000-07:00

I have done it, I have done it. I made it to my destination without making a weepy phone call begging my parents for money. It helps when you don't miss your airplane and don't pay $100 dollars to get there.
Friends and Family I am staying in the one year calm of Belfast. Of course I refer to the age old religious riff of Cathi-s and Prote-s. As I type, there is a group of drunken Irishmen (that turned out to not be a cliche) bellowing out old military hymns about the bodies of catholics burning or something pleasantly similar to that motif. I saw one year calm because last year marks the incident of faith-based voilence. I guess you could call it Daddy-issues on a grander scale. "My God's better than your God."
"No my God is way better than your God."
"Oh yeah my God can clear an entire island of snakes."
"Oh yeah, my God can create printing and make literature available to people in any walk of life."
"You can't read."
"Well neither can you."
"Your Mom."
"Your Pa."
"I'm going to kill one of your leaders."
"Well I'm going to blow-up your children."
"I hate my Father..."
"I hate my priest too..."
With that slight detour concluded I will now explain how I was kicked for my God-given talent of snoring at, what I presume is, an illegal decibel. I went to sleep and attempted to plug in my CPAP machine otherwise known as the fighter pilot get-up. Well the piece of sleep saving device would not start. I tried for several seconds and it just wouldn't work. I want to bed offering a silent prayer to both the Protestant and Catholic God, not knowing which one worked at my current local, and asked that I wouldn't snore too loud, because I knew asking to not snore was a miracle too large to ask. I was awoken when a man kicked at my bed and told me know one could sleep because of my "racket." I told him I was sorry but that I couldn't get my machine to work. He told me to sleep on my side. I said fine but knew in my heart this jack-ass would probably kick on my bed. I called him a jack-ass because only moments before did he say I was F@cking ridiculous. This is when I prayed to both God's to give me the patience to not end the year of religious peace. I fell asleep. I again was woken by someone kicking me and verbally abusing me. This was turning into my worst hostel experience ever. I said I was sorry and tried to stay up so he could fall asleep before me. Again the familiar kick, it was at this point I started intentionally snoring. I blocked airways and slept on my stomach and even cupped my hand over my mouth to amplify my lung seizures. In my mind I thought if I can't sleep neither can you. He woke me up again, and again. Finally I moved into the hallway and slept on the floor. At about, 7 AM I woke back up and went into the room. He was just getting up so I thought what is the worst thing I could. It was snore as he packs up to leave. I gave him the best send off I could offer. I hope that he is punished by both Gods.
Today is the day before marching day. They celebrate by lighting a fire larger than Cuddles house. I will report more later.

The Riegn of Terror

2008-06-26T23:51:00.000-07:00

I think my post about Lehi yesterday must have angered the Lehi God's because the caused my stomach to be expunged. This morning I was required to wake up at the ungodly time of 6 A.M. (Don't laugh Tom). As everyone should know I am very selfish with my sleeping time. It's as precious to me as neo-conservative attorney to Karl Rove. Needless to say, yet I continue to type, I slept in as late as possible. My goal was to roll off the left side and slip into my ACUs, as I was required once again to defend this country from musical terrorism (in the key of E I might add), and drive to the civil engineering disaster that is Saratoga Springs, then turn left and straight until mourning. Well I did wake up, I rolled(because that's how I do), I slipped but I didn't account for the terrorist counter attack. Confused? So was I. In the U.S. Army's infinite wisdom they have decided to switch the Army's headgear going from a stunning and slimming camouflage field cap to a unpatriotic french beret (though I fear reprocutions for being critical of the military's fashion sense). When we got them I was dismayed.
This was about the time that the Bush camp had decided France was an "enemy combatant." As I put it on I wondered if the army would change its official terminology from beret to freedom cap. I often wondered what it would cost the military to reprint field manuals and paperwork that once described how to wear the beret into how to post the freedom cap on a soldier's head.
I promise you I left it in the computer room. Yet I searched and searched but to no avail. It was at this moment I understood how directly terrorism did affect us for I no that the theft of my freedom attack was direct attack on the United States by the axes of evilness. I have preliminary suspects which may or may not include members of the Lackawanna Six, who I'm convinced have relocated to Alpine, Ut to destroy freedom (fries, dip sandwiches, and caps). So thanks to terrorism I was twenty minutes late leaving home.
Before I left I realized that I didn't have time for breakfast so I grabbed my herbal supplements and a bottle of water (sorry Rocky!). I slammed down the pills and I was on my way.
It wasn't too long into my drive that I learned I needed to make an extreme paradigm shift in pilling taking. It was probably not a good idea taking pills on an empty stomach. Not being one for scatological humor, lets just say I pulled a Herbert Walker. So as I am driving I feel this intense displeasure in what is often described as the pit of my stomach. I was like this is OK, it will pass and I continue to drive on. Seconds later I realized the fatal mistake. At this point I may have thrown up a little in my mouth. Relieved that I was able to contain the material, disgusted that I had just tasted detritus, I continued to drive. It was at this point that the gastric geyser blew. Unsafely I continued to drive and open the door just in time to have "it" spill on the road. Fortunately, no one was behind me. Continuing to drive I evaluated myself, as I am often told to do in disaster scenarios. Isn't the acronym RICE?. I felt better, so it was pedal to the metal. Bad idea. I was once again driving with my head hanging out the doorway. I imagined how odd it would appear to a person looking out their living room window, just pulling open the curtains to reveal the beginning of a beautiful day, but rather than that splendor saw a US soldier puking out of a moving vehicle. It was at this moment I recognized the true complexity of a terrorist attack. These enemy combatants I was attacked by did not only want me to be late they wanted American citizens to lose faith in their military force (even if they only are musicians) by seeing them at their weakest points like puking up water out of a moving vehicle. Not wanting to show the terrorist they had won I never deterred nor stopped my vehicle. I continued to drive not only to make to my gig on time but to show the impregnability of the American spirit. I felt like a hero refusing to let terrorism slow down this American soldier.
Other Highlight was Kieth, Assistant Manager, bragging to Mitch Mallory and I that he "pretty much had a 4.o," and that Brigham Young's nursing program would be foolish to not accept him.

The unheard comment

2008-06-25T15:22:00.000-07:00

Today I was unusually motivated to call into one of my favorite radio programs (typing program makes me feel like my Grandma talking about her "soaps", love you G-ma!). Of course I speak of Radio West, a show of which I am an addictive listener. Trust me, if I could carry it in balloons I would. The topic today was about influential album cover art. I have come across a CD by the band Les Savy Fav. The cover has a picture of a man and woman nude in a garden surrounded by ravenous animals licking their lips and ferociously growling. The title of the CD was "Let's Be Friends." When I first saw it I couldn't help but chuckle at the cleverness. I wanted to share this cover with the lovable Doug Fabrizio and my happiness that Les Savy Fav had not gone with the trend of branding the band by using pictures of themselves but rather used cover art tot tell a story about what could be expected on the album.
So I called in. As I indexed the number into the phone I felt this rush usually reserved for opening theater performances or solo oboe performances. I was nervous and the adrenaline customarily contained was allowed to secrete. The phone rang and a woman anwered asking my first name. "Jeff," came out but not in my usual tone but that of a mid-pubescent boy. I was slightly embarrassed and emasculated. I wonder if this is how a eunuch feels post-op. She then asked where I was calling from. I took a deep shallow breath and wondered where I was calling from. I think I was in Lehi, I was driving, but opted to tell her where I was from for fear of someone assuming I actually had been bred in Lehi. "Alpine," I said in a more sustained tone. She then asked me what I had to say. I think those were her exact words though I might be post-traumatic. It was at this point I began to empathize with what George w. might feel every time he is asked to speak. I knew what I wanted to say but somehow my tongue was moving to the side to side when I wanted it to move up and down. In the end I think I spit something out about Les Savy Far. She seemed to be pacified by this statement and put me on hold until Doug would allow me to speak to him. I was left alone to drive, listen to the show on my phone, and recover. I was listening to some lady talk about the Beatles. I was wondering what are you doing you're just an ass-oicates degree holder from UVU. What could you possibly add? I was ruminating on this when I noticed that a woman was speaking to me. I slightly freaked out because I thought I was on the air but then I latched on to the familiarity of the voice. It was the producer asking me the name of the band again. I was like, "Les Savy Far, L-E-S S-A-V-Y F-A-R or maybe its F-A-I-R" She then said she was going to look it up on Amazon to include the cover art on their website. There was a pause and she said ,"Do you mean Les Savy Fav." And that was it, I was shamed. I imagined a 1992 Dan Qauyle ousting William Figueroa confidently saying "no the word Potato ends with E. Yep I'm so sorry it was an E." I apologized and shriveled along with my credibility. The next few minutes were a blur. As I drove Dan Qauyle's severed head appeared in front of me mouthing, "No I'm sorry its spelled with an E. You made a great effort...It's spelled with an E...an E...E..E, E, E!!" I arrived at my destination and sat for about 20 minutes listening to the guests discuss iconic cover art. Doug then said he was going to take a call and I felt nausea in my stomach. "We have Mike on the line.."
False alarm I then politley waited as they discussed emails and there own ideas about the influence of album art. Doug then ended the show and I was crushed. I wasn't going to be on the show because of a stupid R. Dan Quayle again came to me but he mouthed "R, R, R." The woman once again came to the phone and said she was sorry but they ran out of time. To which I replied, "O.K." I shut off the car engine and exited the car grabbed the bags of food I was delivering. Shutting the door I walked towards the building in blazing heat wearing a black catering smock holding heavy food in both hands.

Lets get ready to rumble!!!

2008-06-17T20:29:00.000-07:00

Today I had to take one of my clients to get a haircut. As we were leaving the apartment he farted. Now I'm not one for scatological humor but after he passed the wind he said, "oh, not that way out!!" How can you not fall in love with that? Well I found out how you can not love that. This same guy the day before threw papers across the room and then stormed out because his roommate looked at him wrong. He then ran back into the kitchen and took a, what I can only describe as, 19th century Irish Boxing pose. This was after I asked him to calm down. He then got this look in his eyes that conveyed the attitude, "you guys aren't even worth the fight." Now I've held the fact that this man is 70 years old and has no teeth to speak with for the sake of dramatic irony. He went to his room after "the episode." Later he was heard muttering to himself, "I'm not going to get mad no more."
This summer has been very busy. I have three jobs I' am working at right now that consume my days. I hope it will be worth it when I go to London. If you haven't heard I am taking my acting to London. I am going to be in a play there. It is through Utah State so it is not nearly as prestigious as it sounds but I'm still excited to be able to talk vaguely with people about my acting experiences in England in the hopes of making myself seem more important then I actually am.

Neat and Clean

2008-05-30T23:28:00.000-07:00

Um could this story be any better?

Japanese woman caught living in man's closet

By MARI YAMAGUCHI,

Associated Press Writer Fri May 30, 3:21 PM ET

TOKYO - A homeless woman who sneaked into a man's house and lived undetected in his closet for a year was arrested in Japan after he became suspicious when food mysteriously began disappearing.

Police found the 58-year-old woman Thursday hiding in the top compartment of the man's closet and arrested her for trespassing, police spokesman Hiroki Itakura from southern Kasuya town said Friday.

The resident of the home installed security cameras that transmitted images to his mobile phone after becoming puzzled by food disappearing from his kitchen over the past several months.

One of the cameras captured someone moving inside his home Thursday after he had left, and he called police believing it was a burglar. However, when they arrived they found the door locked and all windows closed.

"We searched the house ... checking everywhere someone could possibly hide," Itakura said. "When we slid open the shelf closet, there she was, nervously curled up on her side."

The woman told police she had no place to live and first sneaked into the man's house about a year ago when he left it unlocked.

She had moved a mattress into the small closet space and even took showers, Itakura said, calling the woman "neat and clean."

Saturation; Evapiration

2008-05-17T14:15:00.000-07:00

How many have felt trapped in that spot that drives them to achieve but never release themselves to move beyond that desire. Today has once again been an uneventful "relaxing" day at the family ranch in Alpine yet I feel anxious. I am almost twenty-five and wonder will I achieve anything of merit. I am not naive enough to suppose I am the first to have these desires of grandeur. Yet I look around and see people living life and pursuing goals. I see teenagers competing before nations and wonder if that is success and why can't I have that. However, then I feel ashamed because I have let "reality" TV inform me on how I should feel about my life. Then I start to wonder when did I stop living and let TV live for me. I knew I had to get outside into "the world." But then again, it was only practical, I had empty containers to throw away. I stepped outside and heard bees and wondered if I'd be tested and asked if everything tasted the same. Above me were trees being pollinated by the cheapest landscaping crew I know and if it hadn't been for I.C.E. maybe more of them would have stayed around last year. Just in front of me stands the bulk of my two years of work in the form of a black M3. It's dirty just as I'll probably always let it be. I step in front of it and gap the lid from the trash can. In you go McDonald's, Wendy's, and Costco. Your convenience was formidable but your useless leftovers must decompose. Stream, Stream, give said my conscience to me because I'm stuck in between fear and achievement, life and death, saturation and evapiration. Then when my thoughts get away from me I often notice beyond the storm something calm and clean. A cloud contracts and releases changes states into what it once was and what it will become. white, opaque, blue, success, failure, shame. When we stand out we our destined to become the same.
-this is an experiment don't be weirded out. I kind of just let my thoughts go.

you're a mean one.....

2008-05-05T23:00:00.000-07:00

My new face book profile shot is offending everyone. I guess it could be that the picture is of a man that imprisoned his daughter and fathered children through her. To each his own. Yet this man has inspired me to make my first photo bucket slide show because he looks like a celebrity that is celebrated once a year.

Animal Rights

2008-04-22T13:10:00.000-07:00

I just wrote this letter for one of my wildlife classes. I felt like I should share!!! It's to my brother Kenneth and dripping with sarcasm. So no angry comments. Just joking, I know no one will comment, enjoy.

The Letter:

April 22, 2008

Dear Kenneth,

Hello son of my mother. How are you? You may be perplexed by the subject of my letter but don’t immediately be put off by it. Think of it like Marlon Brando’s corpse performing in a circus. Something about the clowns is so bewildering but damn if Brando’s corpse hanging from the trapeze doesn’t make you smile a little. Actually that sounds like the plot to David Lynch’s next film. I say “film” because no Lynch piece is mere entertainment. Of course that is discussion for another time.

I can feel that the grader of this letter is probably asking themselves, “When is he going to get to the point?” Now, the answer is now, my friend. Kenneth, I am currently taking a course at Utah State which focuses on society’s relationship to wildlife. Now, before you rant and rave about me wasting my life pursuing education, I will have you know that I have learned many vital, practical skills. I have earned my small game permit. That way, when the apocalypse comes, I will be able to feed myself. Granted, I will need, most likely, to learn how to remove nuclear waste safely from a squirrel carcass.

Transitioning into my next paragraph, I want to take this time to discuss the debate we have been having in classes. The debate concerns hunting. During class we have been watching films from our Reagan’s glorious 80’s and Ford’s and Carter’s lesser 70’s. In these videos we were shown much propaganda from conservatives and liberals. That is of course if you take my view point that all hunters are conservatives and animal lovers are liberals. I do!!! But seriously this is an important issue and the reason I am writing you because in our family, you are the only one that took animal issues seriously. I am of course referring to your two year stint as a vegetarian. As I thought back through our family members I can only think of two other instances with animals. One involves the whole family and the rattle snake. We tried to tell dad that a coiled rattle snake was right in front of him, rattling, but he still stepped over it and was almost bitten. Then in paternalistic glory threw a boulder at it to protect us, his family. The other incident I refer to is you eating the ants in Idaho. I think this incident is what perhaps created the greatest shock when you announced your vegetarianism. We all thought, “But Kenneth loves meat!!! He loves meat so much he’s willing to eat ants.”

Also transitioning into this paragraph, the debate was concerning whether or not people should hunt and kill animals. As I watched these videos I found the conservatives and the liberals to both be crazy. I found myself somewhere in the middle but, leaning towards the viewpoint of liking meat. I think that it is OK to hunt but to kill responsibly, kind of like Anton Chigurh in, “No Country for Old Men.” Kill methodically, purposefully, and with a Dorothy Hamill hair cut. You could say my opinion on the matter was medium well (assuming that liberals really do have rare, bleeding hearts). I, like you during your Idaho ant binge, love meat however, cringe when I think of slaughtering my own meat. That is why I, through consumerism, pay people low wages to do it. I pay others to hunt for me (I think is typical of most people in our upper-middle-class-socioeconomic group, we are from Alpine). I have come to accept that animal populations would benefit from me being there predator in the form of low-income slaughter house employees.

There are many other issues about animals that I would love to discuss including extinction, domestication (cuddles the cat, and the sole occupant of our Alpine home, is in for an earful), and human impact on wildlife habitat. I appreciate your ear on this matter and would love to have you hear me. I am not so interested in your opinions, but then again when have I ever commie!!

Your brother through adoption and maternal genes,

Jeff Denison

Lockers Explode

2008-03-27T13:43:00.001-07:00

Everyone Coach Monte Morgan from my alma matter is famous once again. Only this one is not for football. I saw this and wonder how many faculty members would have been suspended if more students whipped out the ole cell phone camera at high school in my day. I gotta get me a phone with a camera and start exploiting.

2008-03-26T07:58:00.000-07:00

I was reading the deseret news and saw the top story. How could you resist a headline like this? As I read it I kept wondering to myself, why don't I know this young man? And then I wondered if this article didn't directly originate with the onion news.

BYU's 'Cloak Boy' — Student surprised by support after some objections to his folk singing

By Elizabeth Stuart
Deseret Morning News

PROVO — Bundled up in a hobbit-inspired cloak singing folk songs between classes, Nathan Langford was pretty used to getting attention from his fellow students at Brigham Young University.

"I got a lot of comments like, 'Hey, Frodo,' or 'Hey, Harry Potter,"' said Langford, a 19-year-old mathematics major from Wisconsin. "You sort of get used to it if you're singing and wearing a cloak."

But for the past few weeks, ever since BYU police threatened to cite Langford for disturbing the peace with his exuberant caroling, people greet him with a familiar "Hey, Nathan," or stop him on the sidewalk to tell him, "We support you, Cloak Boy."

Now that, said the self-proclaimed "fantasy geek," was a little more unexpected.

Langford, who said he sang to occupy himself between classes, was even more surprised by the number of students who rallied behind him after he wrote a letter to the student newspaper to tell his story. Singing, he said, was within his rights as a student.

Within a week of the incident, more than 800 people joined a "Revive Cloak Boy" Facebook group dedicated to restoring Langford's right to sing. Several students designed and sold T-shirts that featured Langford as a superhero garbed in a cloak. Some people even gathered on campus to belt out camp songs in front of the Joseph Smith Building — one of Langford's favorite spots to sing between classes — to prove their point.

"I think it's ridiculous that the police even got involved," said Cory Christensen, a 21-year-old junior from Ogden, who helped to design the Cloak Boy T-shirts. "I think if someone has a problem with his singing, they should approach him about it."

People did approach the cloaked student about his singing, Langford said. Most of the feedback he got was positive, though.

Stephanie Lee, a freshman from Alberta, Canada, said she and her friends looked forward to watching Langford sing after their Tuesday and Thursday economics class.

"It's cool that he sings," Lee said. "I say more power to him."

Officers confronted Langford in response to several reports of suspicious activity, said BYU Police Lt. Arnold Lemmon. Callers were concerned about the singer's mental health.

"In today's world, we can't just blow off people saying there's something going on here," he said. "For us the bottom line was his peers were concerned about his behavior."

Lemmon said Langford is free to sing whenever he pleases, as long as he does not disturb any classes or anyone trying to study.

Langford won't be belting out any carols on campus anytime soon, however. He's been spooked.

"Yeah, hello," he said. "Like going against authority really isn't my thing."

Politcal Protection

2008-03-21T19:32:00.000-07:00

Sitting in the wood room(the name I've come to call the classroom I take my natural resources and society class due to the vast amount of wood paneling), I was acoustically shaken to consciousness. A few minutes previous, the professor had handed-out a worksheet comparing Victorian attitudes towards sex and politics. Which, had i not been in this class, I probably would have thought twice about this comparison. Yet, I was in a alternate classroom environment, to put it politely, run by an economics professor(shout out to all my ECONies!!). "If you were telling your little brother or sister about sex what would you tell them?" he queried.
In my mind I thought,"What the hell?" The class was silent, awkward silent. Then one brave soul raised his hand and said, "use protection."
"Wow, what does explaining the does and don't about sex have to do with natural resources," I thought.
Then as a way to connect two ideas he suggested that the same advice to us as we proceed in a political arena. O.K. So I should only "debate" with someone I love, always wear my political condom, and . No wonder political alliances are often referred to as bedfellows. They are getting intimate baby. Oh disturbing pictures entered my mind as I considered politicians I knew: Janet Reno, Newt Gingrich, Rocky Anderson, Ted Kennedy, and Nancy Pelosi. Strange Bedfellows indeed!! I almost screamed out, "There is no talking about sex in the wood room." All I know is that the next time I go to a city council meeting I'm gonna wonder, "Did I bring protection?"

a new website

2008-03-17T22:31:00.000-07:00

I have fallen in love with the website hulu.com where you can watch shorts and full movies for free. Why do I love it because it has awesome SNL digital shorts like the one I'm posting below.

And the sin's of the mother...

2008-03-05T07:20:00.000-08:00

Anna Nicole's daughter to inherit her mother's estate

Published: Wednesday, March 5, 2008 12:36 a.m. MST

Anna Nicole Smith's daughter will inherit her late mother's estate.

A Los Angeles judge on Tuesday not only made 18-month-old Dannielynn Hope the sole heir but also set up a trust in the girl's name.

Her father, Larry Birkhead, and Smith's executor, Howard K. Stern, will be co-trustees.-this poor girl is screwed. How did Howard Stern become her co-executor? I see old man marriages in her future.

Superior Court Judge Mitchell Beckloff granted a petition filed by Stern, who wanted to clarify Smith's intentions toward her daughter. Smith drafted a will in 2001 — five years before the child was born — that left her estate to her then only child, Daniel. However, it said the assets in Daniel's trust should be shared equally if she had future children. (from Deseret News)

A snubb

2008-02-26T11:52:00.000-08:00

Everyone I want to voice my opinion about the recent omission of Brad Renfro in the Oscar Memoriam Video, or the I thought they were already dead or gone too soon movie? If some don't know, Brad Renfro was the little boy in the client. He was also in such films as Apt Pupil, Bully, and Ghost World. He died, a week before Heath Ledger, because of an overdose of drugs. I am disappointed in the apparent snub. The academy said he wasn't included because there wasn't enough time. 3 seconds is the average time a person gets on this video. The Oscars finished 14 minutes early this year, I think Brad Renfro could have been included. The academy messed up but they don't want to admit it's true reasons for omitting Mr. Renfro. I think it was an error or a deliberate snub. I just think it was a life regardless of how he died he was part of a profession that has certain rituals when one of their own dies and it feels wrong to exclude one from those rituals.

diving into mediocrity

2008-02-06T13:57:00.000-08:00

i don't know how this is going to work out. lately i have been in a play at Utah State. its russian so that should give you a clue as to the mood of the production, that is if we follow cliche. in the cast there seems to be this quest as to who can deflate who to the level of airlessness. it reminds me of the who's who among american students i was lucky enough to consider myself among(even if i never replied to tell them i wanted to be in the book because i didn't want to be on there mailing list to buy their $100 book containing the names of other students who would be on their mailing list to buy a $100 dollar book of...point made). who's who among the cherry orchard cast is quite an ordeal. you are somebody if you perceive yourself as funny, perceive yourself to be a good actor, or have been in the theater department for more than 8 months. this situation has created a social void (yeah I said void) in my life at utah state. now that would mean something if my social life at utah state had been a resounding success. what's the point? i think i've reached the point of paradigm. that is it's shifting, as i type, each word acts as a kinetic force, pushing whatever mechanism moves my thought tent in a new direction. my aim is mediocrity!! to be unsmart, slightly funny, and moderate to inferior in quality.

bracing myself to a wall i try to enter into a conversation with some fellow cast mates. my mind swirls as that familiar feeling coats my stomach. how can i forget the feeling, after all i joked with people that it was my major at utah state high school. awkwardness, once again i didn't make my thought process explicitly clear, i didn't think out a statement well enough, i was too risque, i offended someone, i was unclever. clever=laughter, add an un to it and it less than or equal to slightly funny. my entire life has been this way, now i use it to my advantage in a lot of situations. in this situation it hadn't worked i was slightly funny. somehow i had decided that being funny was validation to my existence. the truth is that i should have picked something to which i was more adept. my life would have been easier if i could equate my self-worth to the ability to name all the golden girls or how many oreos i can eat in one sitting.

As i attend college i become more aware of competition amongst students. you could say i have become a student of students. my gut reaction has been mostly negative concerning class placement. were so obsessed with how we measure up to the rest. we did this in high school and i was a median student, the fulcrum of academic possibility. what does a valedictorians really succeed at doing, understanding how to work well in the system. i realize now that much of my achievement was thwarted by my desire to be an exceptional student. so exceptional that failure wasn't a possibility. sometimes, i want to emphasize sometimes, didn't because i assumed i would fail (though i was lazy too). because if i got a c or d and i actually worked i was a fool. my desire to be an exceptional student prevented me from being a student.

the problem i see around me is that we are so obsessed with the cream that we forget that we are the main ingredient. cream can only rise if there is something from which it can rise from. without the average, there is no ordinary with a little bit of extraness. if i hadn't heard william hung sing i wouldn't know how fantastic stevie wonder's voice was. had i never seen jessica biel act i would never know how dynamic Helen Mirren could be. eating a mcdonalds cheeseburger makes me understand the true beauty of a red robin burger. the average is the meal and the extraordinary the garnish.

all my life i was told i was special (thanks Mom and dad, and sometimes others), but then the past ten years i can't help but feeling like i've let this label down. special to me meant straight a's, leads in plays, acceptance into honor programs, scholarships based on merit, ACT scores above my current age, dating, and making people laugh. i felt i didn't deserve to be extraordinary (it means ordinary but with a little more....um, ordinariness) because i'm balding, i'm fat, i'm lazy, i'm ugly, and i'm inferior in quality to my peers. before i turn this into a feel sorry for me moment, i feel compelled to say that i felt the need to earn my specialness when it had already been furrowed upon. i wasn't a special person because of who i was and what i had accomplished but because i was in a unique relationship with them. i was special to my mom and dad because they made me, i was special to others because of experiences we had gone through together. i wasn't special, my relationships were. and if i'm unsmart, slightly funny, and moderate to inferior in quality, i don't mind, as long as i get to keep these "special" people in my life.

2008-01-13T11:32:00.000-08:00

Lately, I've been looking at comments on stories in the deseretnews.com website. It is perhaps, the funniest, most bizarre thing I have encountered. Talk about polarizing opinions and values? No seriously, I am going to talk about them. I am kind of irritated by these knee-jerk responses which have no substance. I noticed the same thing going on at youtube.com. Only peoples arguments were more ridiculously. My favorite is a video about a lego bubble gum sorter which somehow lends itself to a rant about racism by the ever friendly user with the name, GAYNIGGERandAIDS. Oh, how that does my heart good!!
(link included: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IiJdn6bg3fs)

My guess is that people have lost the ever popular censor gene. Anonymity does that doesn't it. Not having to combine your face with obscene comments is like ripping out the organs of a Victorian prostitute and not facing the criminal ramifications. Yes, I am making a comparison of Jack the Ripper and user driven comment boards. I guess my point is that back in the day humans interacted with other humans face to face, and there was no middleman in the form of powered silicon. When this archiac ritual was being practiced most people, for some reason chose to honor and respect others opinions. They may not have agreed with this humans beliefs but they were allowed to express them without being demoralized and vilified. Excepting, any political event or the McLaughlin Group on PBS.

Now folks, some of you will be surprised to hear that I (ONE time!!), reacted this way. I had read a report by a Denver journalist during the Olympics. This man has a reputation of inciting reaction through his articles (I.E. he is bad writer that knows how to provoke). Which apparently isn't too hard if thousands can be so offensive on youtube, I'm beginning to believe being times 2006 person of the year wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. Watch out Mr. Putin, people will suddenly think your practices are undemocratic and accuse your leadership of poisoning defected governmental workers with radiation. We can only pray his reputation will go untainted. Oh no, was that last comment the type of reaction I was talking about on these user based websites. Perhaps I am guilty also, yes I am, didn't I just begin this paragraph inditing me of this problem. Maybe I better make good on my introductory sentence, this reporter talked about various aspects of Mormon culture but, what rattled me was his discussion on Mormon undergarments. So I wrote him, what I thought was a strongly worded letter, the biggest accusation I made was that his piece was not about sports but was in fact an editorial. Score for me, right? The following day he replied with a simple letter that stated he did in fact write editorial articles once a week. The piece I responded happened to be his weekly opinion driven article. Opps, was my face red!! So what does this last paragraph mean, not so sure but, I'll go ahead and conclude.

Perhaps there is a reason that for hundreds if not thousands of years people were not given a forum to respond to things in written anonymous settings, most of us are incapable on non-biase exploration. Why do people make these comments because there is a middleman and there identity is protected. They are truly anonymous and don't have to answer to there stupid insensitive rants. I believe that anonymity brings out barbarism in peoples personality
(ex: http://www.deseretnews.com/user/comments/1,5150,695242525,00.html). Kind of like this blog. Wait, did I just undermine the existence of the jdgle blog. Oh well, ignorance is bliss. I await your knee-jerking in the form of incomprehensible jabber about my, well incomprehensible jabber.

Jeff

Logan the new Provo

2007-09-22T10:24:00.000-07:00

I am pondering this questions and perhaps I will have answers in the many years to come. Yes I have three more years of school. Thanks to the decision of majoring in environmental studies. Does anyone have any thoughts on the subject.

Losing "it"

2007-08-18T14:53:00.001-07:00

Often times I have this insane, absurd, and swift inner monologue in my head. It's normal I suppose. Though sometimes I want to go Darren Aronofsky on my head (see the film Pi for reference). Lately, this little Cheney on my shoulder has been telling me that I've lost "it." You know that little factor that makes people think, "Does he workout?" or "Is he in the cinema?" I can only refer to "it", as what my good friends Kat and Nigel call the "wow factor." That is to say it is the unexplainable for the illiterate and optionally handicapped.
I have felt that as I grow older my humor has been diluted by time, my shape has grown with experience, and my hair has disappeared like old acquaintances. And I am reduced to ridiculous similes. So this is why I mourn. I am the designated mourner of my personality. I am the mourner of "it."

The Monkey Sanctuary and other frolicks

2007-05-30T14:16:00.000-07:00

Right Now, I'm in MY OWN room, the first of the trip. But I am wondering if it is the small victory I had assumed it to be. I have protection on in the form of a mosquito net. Why? Because it might be just like when Pandora first opened the box of mystery. So many new disgusting and revolting creatures. The net keeps me from dying. You know; that pesky malaria? I feel now that I can empathize with the bubble boy. I was attacked by a huge moth, it flew straight in my face as I was trying to shut a window. I might have made the slightest scream, which might have sounded like a girl. My bad!! The sheet for my bed was themed after 101 Dalmatians. When I first laid down the sheets were so grimy. I wasn't sure when the last time they were cleaned and didn't dare asks. This is why I have come to lovingly refer to my bed as 101 STDs.
A Monkey sanctuary is a curious thing. The monkeys, are they sanctified? Supposedly they are the town's people's ancestors. So, the next life for the African Villagers is dwelling atop trees to provide an income for the progenitors by attracting tourists to their town. I wonder that sounds satisfying to them? I guess they wouldn't worry need to worry about food. Some dumb white people would pay money just to feed them. They're the African equivalent of the marina carp at Lake Powell. They're just searching for the easiest meal. And aren't we all?
Earlier today we hiked to a waterfall. I didn't get in because, I think for the first time, I was cold(that was short lived). It was raining a little and the water was pretty frigid. I'm told I'll regret not getting in. Will see? What made the falls distinctive was the presence of hundreds of thousands of bats to the left of the descending drops of water. While swimming in the pool of water below the falls, the girls made some unearthly noise which disturbed some of the bats and the began to move from the perched they were resting on. Our guide saw that we were intrigued and banged a bench with the side of his machete to create a greater stir in the normally nocturnal creatures. I might have messed myself at this point. The guide was pleased with our fear.

Cluster Clan

2007-05-27T03:22:00.000-07:00

I was suppose to teach the cluster clan today but ended up taking more surveys. We are surveying the school children about their understanding of AIDS and its prevention. WE then teach them some basics about the disease and conclude our study by giving them a post survey which determines if our class has made any difference. It is eye opening to see what they believe and don't believe about AIDS transmission. For example they believe AIDS can be transfered by sharing toothbrushes or going to the same barber. Why there sharing toothbrushes is beyond me but the believe if they do they will get the acquired immune deficiency syndrome. Oh and "Deep Kissing" which at first I thought was kissing devoid of superficiality but later learned it was French kissing. Beware NCMOers(or should I call you NCDKers) you can get AIDS from your pernicious actions.
Some may be wondering why they are called the cluster clan. Our teaching group; Lauren, Danny, Natalie, and myself, on the day we met our class. In the small doorless room the cluster clan we watched as the teacher told the children that they write to slow. This woman then told one of the students after investigating his notebook that he was a big boy with a small brain. The kind of positive reinforcement you'd expect if your teacher were Dr. Laura.
Today our mission was to educate the children about AIDS but instead I was called off by a teacher known to me as Kofi(the Ga name for a male born on Friday). So many events in my confrontation with Kofi reminded me of how Kathleen Willey might have felt on Nov. 19, 1993, a.k.a. violated. The conversation started out casually enough. We spoke about America and the inception of the national anthem. He then asked if I spoke French. I should have been tipped off at his motives after that question. Lets just say that the conversation included him stroking my hair and referring to the continental divide that is my hairline. He then looked deep into my eyes describing their blue beauty. I was confused but, chalked it up to the abnormal affection shown by Africans to members of the same-sex. Such as holding hands or hanging off one another. The kind of affection that in America would cause people to think there was some hanky-panky going on between the two of you. That line of thinking caused me to justify his behavior. Kofi asked what we were doing in Africa. After explaining that our group was studying community health, he asked if we teach things like sanitation. This is where the conversation took an altogether creepy route. Lets just say the highlights of the conversation were when he volunteered to shave what my mother always taught me were called "my special parts" and then later in an ill attempt at double entendre by throwing, nuts at yes my "nuts."
I felt sexually harassed but believing that Ghana has not yet progressed to this level of legal action am powerless. I have a sugar daddy in West Africa named Kofi. I never want to go back!!

The Elephant in the Room

2007-05-26T15:20:00.000-07:00

After bargaining the vendor of shop #18, I was the proud owner of a deep mahogany elephant stool complete with white tusks. I gave the merchant my money and he handed me my prize. As he handed me the sculpture my hand suddenly dropped with weight. The manipulated timber weighed almost 30 pounds. I had seen the elephant. I knew how big it was yet I had not prepared myself to carry around this elephant for the next 30 minutes in the hot African heat. My elephant became a milestone.

Sub-Saharan Africa is like many other places in the world, distinct in geography and culture. These people have much to celebrate when it comes to heritage and history. Yet they have been struck down in the past century by the epidemic of AIDS. So serious is this epidemic that many countries have over a fourth of their population infected. This means that almost everyone in these countries are effected by this virus. Yet, in Africa very little is mentioned about HIV and AIDS. The idiom concerning an elephant in the room seems appropriate when describing the state of AIDS in Africa. It is an obvious truth ignored for whatever reason.

I began to ponder the effects of this unspoken elephant and what it would lead to. I considered the recent surveys we had given school children in Ghana. These children understood that HIV exists and can be contracted but they are still missing vital data. They don’t understand the full impact of AIDS. I actually hope they never do understand the full weight because one cannot truly understand until they experience it. I’m sure that a person’s spirit unprepared for the full load must drop under the weight of such news. This is why it is so important for us to educate the young and let them know just how heavy it is. For every bit of information we are able to get out there leads to a smaller likely hood that these children will be contract HIV and be afflicted with AIDS. Meaning there will be fewer children orphaned left to care for themselves or the children they conceive will not be forced to live a brief life of agony or that they will become stricken and die from multiple diseases since their immune system weakens and is unable to fight them off. I began to picture these children having to carry AIDS and I am glad that I can teach something that may prevent them from truly experiencing this Virus. Speaking from experience, the elephant was not easy to carry. I’m guessing AIDS would be harder to carry.

Release

2007-05-10T18:16:00.000-07:00

So I've been in Africa for three days now. What do I have to show for it? I have the runs and nausea every time I eat and drink. Speaking of drinking I have to drink like 4 liters a day just because I sweat so much. Like I say,"I don't sweat I rain." I think I'm might be melting from the inside and out. It seems that everything that comes out my body is liquid and clear. So today I'm sleeping and seeing if I can acclimate my body to the foreign food I've ingested.
Right now is free-time. Some are at the beach or temple, I'm in a dark air conditioned room typing to you thanks to the wireless that have at the hostel. That is a perk.
Yesterday we went north into a small village to introduce ourselves to a women's group that was maybe interested in learning more about AIDS. The village was what I might expect of an impoverished area of Africa to look like; many malnourished children, wood and tin shanties, and dirt roads. What I wasn't expecting was a mixing table with DJ blasting when we arrived. The DJ spun and mixed everything from traditional African beats to The Real Slim Shady which oddly felt like a poorly attempted reach out to our culture.
Speaking of cultural mis-connect, we attempted to play a game that allowed each group to get to know one another. We poorly wrote the questions that confused the poor women. One was involving some cultural aspects of carrying objects by placing them on you head. We asked what was the most they had carried on their head. A)they didn't know and B) they found it bizzare that we didn't carry things on our head.
Oh and I have no money to buy water. This is why Africa might kill me. Where is my money UVSC?? Better yet UVSC why did I receive an email saying that my SAP had caused me to be dropped from consideration from financial aid? What is an SAP and how did I screw that up. Why does my school want me to die?

For the Blog

2007-04-01T12:11:00.000-07:00

I am not really much of a blogger. I really don't like words, let alone constructing them in some comprehensible and or meaningful way. Yet I have received some request to update. This will teach them!!
I visited my cat's house today. She seems to be doing fine. That was until I came upstairs and noticed this distinct smell. At first I thought,"well nobody told me I smelled like a septic tank." Then I went to the laundry room; the location of my kitty's fecal pile known as a litter box, was in fact solid. At first I thought I saw a fair woman semi-covered by a veil. I was witnessing the virgin and her mystery. Then I thought, why would Mary reveal herself in a pile of...opps, my cat had relieved itself a mountain. Silly us, we didn't realize that our cat isn't completely independent. I vow to you bloggers to check on my independent kitty more often.

Blog You!!

2006-09-29T14:10:00.000-07:00

For reasons unknown to me there is a sudden intrest in the exploitation of ourselves for the purpose of display on the internet. So i figure i should get in on that action. i've been exploited all my life and i'm not a quitter.

this weekend is my big a-developement party. i'll let you know how it ends.

j-huff