February 23rd, 2004. 15:33
Words to Live By
I am going to have an engraving done. What exactly I want engraved, I have very little idea, but I know what it will say. It will say: "You Can't Win." This, I heartily believe with all my soul. Some would say this is pessimistic. Perhaps they are right, but I have yet to find a situation where I would not rather be pessimistically informed of my futility than optimistically ignorant of it. It would be cool if the engraving was in latin, much more esoteric that way:
NO CAPAX LAURUS
I am definitely pissed right now, for several reasons.
Ok, maybe it's just two, but still. What really pisses me off is that I'm just within hope of getting an A, but not within reasonable hope. Now, of course, I'm going to kill myself trying to get it, being the gullible fool that I am. And probably at the expense of any number of other important things too. Now, I'm not one of those ass-kissing grade grubbers, I just care about doing a good job on shit and being suitably recognized for it. Being constistantly bogged down in trivialities and semantics is not a good reason to fail at something. If the system sucks, the creators of the system usually feel the least pain. I was so irritated I almost hit a pedestrian coming home, so indirectly physics is endangering peoples lives. Scary huh? That's metonymy, by the way. Or perhaps syncechdoche. no, it's metonymy. fuck, who the hell cares anymore?
Right now, I'm listening to Pearl Jam. They usually makes me feel better when I'm pissed. Can't exactly say why.
- Ralph Nader is running for president, asshole.
- Physics has me wanting to run my head through a leaf mulcher. Or perhaps somebody else's head.
PYP WINTER CONCERT - MARCH 6th, GO TO IT.
ALSO GO HERE
February 13th, 2004. 18:16
Forecast: 5-Day Siesta
"Here's a taxidermist's," Bill said. "Want to buy anything? Nice stuffed dog?"
"Come on," I said. "You're pie-eyed."
"Pretty nice stuffed dogs," Bill said. "Certainly brighten up your flat."
"Just one stuffed dog. I can take 'em or leave 'em alone. But listen, Jake. Just one stuffed dog."
"Mean everything in the world to you after you bought it. Simple exchange of values. You give them money. They give you a stuffed dog."
"We'll get one on the way back."
---The Sun Also Rises, Ernest Hemingway.
"Now my bonny lad, you are mine. And we'll see if one tree won't grow as crooked as another with the same wind to twist it."
"Your father's happiest days ended when your's began."
---Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte.
February 5th, 2004. 00:30
These are some of my favorite things.
Last weekend was All-State Jazz Band, which rules so much I almost peed my pants. I love having hard music to practice. Trombones are probably some of the most under-exploited instruments in high school bands next to the go-go bells. Actually having to practice was a nice change of pace. Robert Baca, our conducter, had more stories up his sleeve than Mr. Bundy, if you can believe that. Most of them were even semi-relevant to what he started talking about, and when you rehearse for 7 or 8 hours a day, you don't mind the break. Out of our original set, three songs were cut and replaced with three entirely new songs. So much for practicing beforehand. One of them was a Mingus tune (Hora Decapitus) that we had to learn by ear...no sheet music. The concert went great. For the mingus tune, I gave a pretty decent rendition of a flying saucer for my solo...or that's what they told me after. For Mueva Los Huesos (Shake Your Bones), a kicking song by Gordon Goodwin's Big Phat Band, we borrowed some percussionists from Caliente, a great latin band from Houston. The groove was muy excellente. To wrap it up, we played some good 'ol cheesy stars and stripes by JPS, a la jazz. All in all, totally awesome...and I missed winter formal, which is win-win.
The orchestra and concert band were sweet as well, though not as hip and jiving. Much props to Jen and Paul. I think there must have been about 250 people in the all-state choir, the freaking wall of sound that it was.
Today, I heard from Case Western Reserve University. My first acceptance letter ever. It made me feel valued and appreciated somehow, like I actually meant more than the form letter they sent me. But they also offered me 17 grand a year to go there, so that only seals the deal.
How accurate was my political forcast? Not too shabby.
Last month's home messages...here.