Monthly Archives: November 2000

Fictishy
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As I was walking to my car after work today, I saw a dead squirrel on campus. After burying the creature in a shallow grave under a bush, placing a single red rose on the mound of dirt, and crying quietly for half an hour, I thought of a funny idea for a movie: “Dead Squirrel on Campus”. It’s a teenage comedy about two ne’er-do-wells who are freshmen at the local party school. Unfortunately, their outrageous “extracurricular” activities – including but not limited to binge drinking, marijuana smoking, and teenaged sex with comely coeds – land their grades in the doghouse, so to speak. Facing strong parental disapproval and possible university reprimandation, the boys hunt for a way to up their grades toot-sweet. They discover an old university urban legend: that if your roommate dies, and if said roommate is a squirrel, you receive straight A’s for the semester. Seeing their solution, they search for a new roommate, a squirrel, that is likely to die or that they can kill. Cue a hilarious montage of them courting several crazy candidates. Eventually they pick one of them, a squirrel, and it moves in. The next morning, they throw it out their ninth-story window. It dies. Their scheme works. The two get straight A’s. They spread the word. Suddenly, everyone all over campus is killing their roommates who are squirrels and getting straight A’s every semester until graduation. At the graduation ceremony, the boys feel vaguely empty about the quality of their education, but they shrug it off. Soon, they enter successful jobs and marriages and have happy, healthy children and grandchildren. They live long, fruitful lives, affecting everyone around them in a positive way. When they die, which occurs coincidentally on the same day for both, they inspire crowds of mourners to eulogize and pay respects as their coffins are lowered into the ground. Meanwhile, in Hell, they scream in torment while their flesh slowly burns and foul demons play their intestines like a harp.

I think that would be funny.

General
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Well, another trip to Beavercreek wasted. I could have done something interesting, but it so happens that I did nothing interesting. I imagine that when I’m back here in a few weeks I will squander the opportunity to do anything interesting at that time. But at least I spent this tedium around loved ones. Who have cable, including all the pay channels. Hel-lo, hordes of anatomically enhanced women! There is a surprising amount of compelling drama on Friday and Saturday nights, all of which revolves around either high-priced professional escorts or cheating husbands who have criminal pasts. The best movies combine all these elements.

And another one’s starting. Gotta go set the VCR!

General
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Happy Thanksgiving, although it is now over. I thought and thought about what I could be thankful for in this cold, dead world, and here is what I came up with.

  • My family are all healthy.
  • My cat is healthy.
  • I am reasonably healthy.
  • My car is healthy.
  • My car is not actually healthy.
  • I was lying just now for no good reason.
  • Plans are in the works for an interchange at the intersection of U.S. 35 and N. Fairfield Rd. here in Beavercreek, Ohio.
  • My mom did some of my laundry for me.
  • My younger brother is standing behind me offering up witty things for me to be thankful for.
  • I am pretending to listen to his suggestions, but instead of typing them, I am typing this.
  • I have not, to my knowledge, thrown up this year.
  • I retain my youthful appearance even as my peers grow old and decrepit.
  • I’m so close to Broadway stardom I can taste it.
  • I have a wonderful collection of many assorted hats and other head coverings. It is worth a fortune.
  • My apartment is very nice when it is clean which is not all that often but still.
  • I likes pumkin pie!
  • My irony is healthy.

That is all.

Media Studies, Television
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I just saw a lip balm commercial featuring Colleen Haskell of “Survivor” fame. She’s no Nancy Pender, looks-wise, but I wouldn’t mind she and I being the last two humans alive on the planet. Also, were I to die in such a way that several of my major organs were still operational, I would happily have them donated to Colleen. Even if she did not need them, I would have them placed on retainer in the event she ever would. Even now, still alive, I would at a moment’s notice trade my legs, which are hairless and shapely, with hers, which are infected and scarred and shapely.

“If I could, I would, but I don’t know how” – Phish

Fictishy
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I was two feet taller than usual today. I first noticed this morning, when I saw that my knees were hooked over the end of the bed, while my head rested against the opposite wall. As I attempted to enter my black 1991 Dodge Grand Caravan, I simultaneously banged my shins and whacked myself very hard in the chest. My ribs have been sore all day. Using my computer today I noticed I had to reach much further to press buttons and such. Apparently the increase in my height occured solely in my torso, as my arms and legs seemed to be approximately the length I was used to. I had a great deal of trouble balancing as I walked. At my dance recital earlier this evening I was a laughingstock. My dance partner, Maricelle, very nearly refused to take the stage with me; only at Madame Rebekkah’s insistence did she strap on her shoes and come out with me. It was foolish of me to go on, having full knowledge of my condition, but in my brazen bullheadedness I forged ahead without caution. Suffice it to say, it was a disaster. First and foremost, my leotard no longer fit, and so there was a body-cleaving wedgie running up the middle of both sides of my body. Perhaps more disastrous was the fact that Maricelle’s leaps were now two feet short; and so, not once, not twice, but thrice did she go sailing past as my arms failed to catch her. On the fourth, fatal pass, she knocked me off balance and I flipped forward into the orchestra pit.

The whole situation was quite queer.

Media Studies, Television
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Two things.

First. Last night, while watching the Nine O’Clock News on WFLD-TV, the local Fox affiliatethe object of my desire, I realized I was in love with weekend co-anchor Nancy Pender. I wonder if she is married. I bet she is. (They always are.) But if she’s not, and if one of you kids out in cyberspace knows how to contact her, give me a lead. I want to ask her out on a date. Maybe dinner and a movie or something, followed by a walk in the park. (The walk would take place in some other city besides Chicago, which is very cold currently. Perhaps it would take place in Paris. I don’t know if Paris is cold right now, but even when Paris is cold, Paris is still Paris.) I am willing to overlook the difference in our ages, Nancy, if it means I can gaze into your starry eyes.

Second. Someone left a grayish-green woolen hat over at my place Friday night. If you would like to claim it, please stop by the box office from 6 PM to 9 PM Tuesday through Thursday. Be prepared to describe it in detail to prove it is yours. If it is not claimed by Thursday, it will be fed to the cat.

General
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I just had a party. You missed it. Why didn’t you come? Your absence was hurtful. Maybe I didn’t give you proper directions. Perhaps you had other plans. Your loss, I suppose.

Education and Career, Lucacentric
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I work in a library. I am not and have no interest in becoming a librarian. I do not mind working in a library. It is quiet and there is not much pressure. Some days are busier than others, true. On the whole, though, things are pretty laid back, compared to, say, a newsroom. Or the floor of the New York Stock Exchange. Or the Battle of Bunker Hill. Or university.

In high school, there was so much pressure to figure out what I wanted to do, largely so I could choose the appropriate college. I somehow made that decision, and then, in college, there was pressure to narrow down what I wanted to do, so that I could basically back up into the elastic band of the classroom, which would fling me in that direction come graduation. Then I graduated. At first, I was worried the elastic band had broken. Then I realized that metaphors are easily manipulated and are nothing to worry about. A more satisfying comparison is to say the band lost its elasticity, much like my underwear has lately. When the band was released, I did not fly forward. I just stood there. Am I saying that my education let me down, or failed to sharpen my focus? I am saying yes to both. I am also implying that my underwear will not stay up.

And now I am out of college and working in a library, and the word “career” gives me gas. I gave myself gas by typing it just now. But as I don’t fancy a library “career”, I do not feel compelled to excel in my work, and so the pressure is off. However, the result of this is that I perform my job very well. The things I would like to try, however, put inordinate pressure on me which makes me foul up or stops me altogether. Or perhaps I only perceive it that way.

Earlier this year, I applied for positions at a number of dot-coms. Of the ones that had the courtesy to get back to me after interviews, all cited a lack of experience on my part as the chief reason for hiring someone else. Now, they all differed in the details of what sort of experience I lack. Some said I had sufficient experience in task x but not in task y, and some would say the opposite. The positions were all similar, requiring similar skills and experience. The only way I can explain the discrepancy is by saying they are both wrong, that I have sufficient experience in neither task x nor task y, because I have been trying to do both while also maintaining an interest in tasks a, b, m, p, and q.

So continues the tragic life of a misunderstood genius.

General
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Children,

I appear to have taken the weekend off. That’s the way it goes. No going back now. Will I take next weekend off? Only time will tell. Does anyone care? No. And rightly so.

I have opted not to take the “online diary” approach with this page, and yet I do not want to make it into a daily test run of my stand-up comedy routine. I have a feeling that the majority of my posts will be like this one: self-referential and without worthwhile content. Much like the majority of my life, now that I think about it. Excuse me while I rest my head against a nearby wall and weep solemnly.

[Ten minutes pass]

So, how ’bout my cat, eh? He’s a real tiger. Well, not a REAL tiger. He is your typical American shorthair, if such a thing is at all typical to you. Among actual tigers, my cat would seem decidedly atypical, as he is not actually a tiger, although this is based on the assumption that we are defining our set of possible typical things to one select group of animals which includes tigers and my cat, and not examining whether each individual animal is typical among its individual species. Tigers find each other typical, after all. It’s possible that, in such a group, my cat could also find a tiger to be a typical representative of the entire set of animals. It is also possible that he would be eaten. I am unlikely to put this theory into practice anytime soon, not only because of the possible damage to my cat and the expense of acquiring several tigers, but also because it is a stupid idea.

Anyway, I’m sure he’d be flattered to know I’m writing of him, but I do not plan to tell him, because he is a cat, and will not understand a word I’m saying, and will think I am going to feed him; and when I do not he will bite me. Possibly. It is unfair to make assumptions. It makes an ass out of you and me – or in this case, just me. You had nothing to do with it. As far as I know.

Media Studies, Television
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So, uh… what else is happening in the world? That Middle East strife still going on? These elections are taking up valuable space in the media, and other things deserving coverage are getting ignored. For example, the Middle East. Have they all died over there yet? Also, commentaries on the new fall TV shows are not getting fair representation. We lost Deadline, and nobody noticed. Deadline! I loved that show. Oh, I didn’t watch it, no. But I loved it. And it’s not just the new shows that are losing out. Returning shows, such as Two Guys and a Girl – which has evolved into a bawdy, hilarious farce – aren’t getting the attention and/or respect from critics that they deserve.

There is no more justice in this old world.

Politicking

Prognosticating punditry

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So, we are now teetering on the brink of a narrow Bush victory. Don’t you people ever listen? And don’t go saying Nader’s spoiling Florida. Gore has done WAY better in Florida than anyone expected him to. Anyway, it’s unfair and inaccurate to presume that ALL Nader voters would have otherwise voted for Gore. The totals in Nader’s “strong states” show that Nader peformed well BELOW expectations – liberals on the teeter-totter fell over on Gore’s side. And then the Bush voters came over and pushed down on the higher end and made the lower end fly up and clobber the wafflers in the jaw. And Buchanan, who was standing in line by the slide, … um. What was I talking about?

Ah, yes. Silly American voters. In the spirit of prognosticating punditry, I’ve decided to make a few predictions for four years of a Bush presidency.

  • Dubya’s pets, one dog and two cats, will become lovable national mascots and will on occasion meet world leaders in Dubya’s stead.
  • Bush and Cheney will bathe in the blood of their enemies. Also with the blood of their enemies they will paint a barn, send relief packages to Transylvania, and prepare a delightful linguini dish.
  • Bush will refer to pasta solely as “noodles”.
  • An embarrassing picture of Dubya will be published on an April 2001 cover of TIME in which Bush’s head is tipped over, his eyes are rolled back into his skull, and a long streamer of drool falls from his mouth. Possible headline: “Can Gene Therapy Help?”
  • Dick Cheney will suffer a fatal heart attack on the floor of Congress as he is about to cast the deciding vote on whether or not the government should condemn homosexuality. He will clutch his chest and spin around comically before he falls to the ground, clutching a tiny American flag, his lesbian daughter’s name inaudibly escaping his lips. The movie version, starring Richard Dreyfuss and released the following year, will win six Oscars.
  • Dubya will choose Joe Lieberman to replace Cheney. Lieberman will be flattered but decline. Dubya’s second choice, George H. W. Bush, will happily step back into the role.
  • Bill and Hillary Clinton will stay married, for the sake of her career this time. Chelsea will enjoy a short stint guest-hosting “Talk Soup” on E!. Playboy will offer her a giant truck full of cash to pose nude. She will make fun of them.
  • Paula Jones, continuing to have trouble with her legal bills, will appear in a hard-core porn video with John Wayne Bobbitt.
  • Al Gore and Bob Dole will co-host a politically-themed variety show featuring music, skits, and their own dry, witty banter. The show will be cancelled by FOX after four episodes. The reruns will continue to air on FX for another three months.
  • Gore will authorize the publication of the un-retouched version of his ROLLING STONE cover photo. Women everywhere will swoon and purchase detachable shower heads.
  • California will be hit with a series of massive earthquakes. The result will be a natural geographical divide along the coast, and the government will rule that California should now be two states. The states are named “Alive California” and “Dead California”.
  • Democrats and Republicans will say nasty things about the other’s behavior when they themselves did the exact same things last time.
  • Ralph Nader will chill out and lay low for awhile. Michael Moore will win the Green Party nomination in 2004. He will name Nader his VP candidate. Winona LaDuke will continue to be wherever the hell she was during the 2000 campaign.
  • Palestinians will hate Americans even more than they used to. Eastern Europeans will hate Americans even more than they used to. The Chinese will hate Americans even more than they used to. Former Soviet Union Republic residents will hate Americans even more than they used to. Western Europeans, Mexicans, Africans, South Americans, Israelis, Canadians, Arabs, the Japanese, and everyone in lower Asia will hate Americans even more than they used to. Austrailians will continue to like us okay.
  • With Austrailia abstaining, every nation in the world will agree to wage war against America simultaneously. The war will be characterized in the press as a “conflict resolution effort”. Our armed forces, having dwindled in number, will require that a draft be reinstated. However, every single 18 to 24 year-old male will be able to avoid service by pretending to be flamboyantly gay.
  • Feeling pressure from all sides, Bush, his family, and his closest advisors will board a spacecraft and flee the planet, eventually setting up a colony on Titan, a moon of Saturn. The presidency will revert to the Bush family dog, who is accidentally left behind in a heartbreaking scene.
  • Tedward Kennedy will emerge as the front-runner for the Democratic presidential nod for 2004. He will be assassinated the next day. In the next week, other assassination victims will include Supreme Court Justice Kennedy, former MTV VJ Kennedy, actor Jamie Kennedy, and Arnold Schwarzenegger. People will be really confused.
  • “Survivor” winner Richard Hatch easily snags the 2004 GOP presidential nod, largely on a platform of not being naked. Runner-up Rudy Boesch will get the veep nod. Sue Hawk will be mentioned as a possible Secretary of Truck Driving.
  • Jesse Ventura, with nothing but a machine gun, camoflauge pants, and a hunting knife, will make the world Safe Once Again For Democracy.