For some reason, I'd like to be a part of it again.

Elitism.

I want nothing to do with it.

Unfortunately, it seems you cannot exist in the academic community without being exposed to, and victim of, elitism.

Historically, I've always been of the "anti" mentality. Anti-academia, that is. Once I started high school, the idea of thesis papers, college, and a 9-5 office job (in marketing, more than likely) made me want to throw my desk out the window, onto the sidewalk below. After high school was no different.

From Kindergarten through middle school, my friends and I were always "the smart kids.". Because of this, my mom, naturally, thought that I needed to go to the high school I went to to because they offered the International Baccalaureate (IB) program. This was also because, knowing the Minneapolis public school system that we (my sister and I) had grown up in, she wanted us to have the highest quality education possible. You have to apply to be in the IB program, so the general idea was that people who did not want to be there, who would be most likely to be disruptive in class and be a source of distraction, would not share the classroom with us.

She was right.

As I get older, I appreciate my experience in the IB program more and more, but at the time, I was only resentful. In 10th grade, I begged my mom to allow me to drop out of IB and apply for the Open program at my high school. I don't remember what made Open different than the standard Comprehensive program that did not require application, but I do remember feeling like it was a decent compromise between Comp and IB. Even then I was aware of, and feeling left out of and insulted by, the elitism and favoritism that reigned in the "IB World."

My main "beef" with IB, while I was there, was that the student body resembled what I assumed to be a typical suburban high school experience, stuck in the middle of an inner-city high school. The quality of education was there, no doubt, but the student body was mainly white, included a large Hmong population, and very few African-Americans. The "snobbery" that I had not yet experienced in any of my public school education suddenly surfaced in a way that I was not prepared for. There were actually "jocks," "nerds," "rebels," "drama geeks," etc. I wasn't used to any of this and immediately rejected the notion that I should be required to place myself into any of the aforementioned groups... but tried my damnedest to, anyway. First I attempted drama, because that fit with my personality the best. Then suddenly I wanted to try my hand at the "jock" mentality, because I noticed that the majority of the "cool" kids, male or female, played a sport. I joined soccer and dropped out of drama. After that, I continued to play sports, not because I really enjoyed them, but because that's what the most popular and well-respected kids did with their after-school time.

Because we all went to a Minneapolis public high school and not one of the slew of private high schools or even one of the two wealthier public school in South Minneapolis, our families were all too poor, or too middle-class to have any of us believe that we should show our social superiority with our money, clothes, cars, etc. No one was under the impression, or even entertained the notion that that was important. That I appreciate. But naturally, something has to stand in for the lack of the usual qualifier of self-worth and superiority, so in IB, it was grades, GPA, and class rank.

I had always been capable of getting good grades in school, but I rarely had the patience or motivation for it. I didn't question whether or not I was intellectually able to achieve straight-A's, because that didn't matter to me. I knew I wasn't stupid, and I didn't tend to think that my grade on a quiz, test, or essay was going to prove that one way or the other.

IB teachers and counselors told us constantly about how important it was that we get the best grades possible so that we could get into a good college so that we could get a good job so that we could be happy. I rejected the idea because I didn't like the idea of "college," the way it was presented to me. I wasn't at all interested in sitting in a lecture hall, taking notes, and churning out paper after paper and competing with 100 other kids to win a good mark to show a later prospective employer later.

I decided, long before graduation, that I was going to "take a year off." I was nearly shunned from my group of friends for deciding to do this, and subsequently decided not to try and get the coveted IB Diploma that, supposedly, would shave off a year of college courses because of it's prestige and what it was supposed to mean about my education.

When I did go back to school, two years after graduation, I went to the College of Visual Arts, which didn't care one bit about the three IB Certificates I had earned in Math, History, and French, and was ultimately the opposite of what I had apparently been "training" for throughout all four years of high school.

What I found instead of who could write the most bull-shitted paper about the Korean war, who could be Valedictorian, who had the most IB classes, was who could create the most politically controversial piece of artwork, whose painting or drawing was the most absurdly simple and unskilled (because this was praised), or who was the poorest kid living in the most squalor, with the most tape on their glasses, the most worn-out pair of Converse sneakers.

The elitism, in both high school and college, was suffocating.

This, my friends, is why going back to school is such a mindfuck for me right now.

I am personally sick and tired of people making sure that everyone around them knows just how smart they've always been, how much schoolwork they have, how many little details of something so fucking specialized and out-there they know. I am tired of show-offs, of hipster ass holes with fixed-gear bicycles, of literature snobs, of music nerds, of people who feel a certain need to declare "who they are" to everyone in earshot of them at all time, via tattoos, designer labels, or bookshelf contents. As if anyone fucking gives a shit. Anyone you preach your "impressive" resume of life to is only waiting for their opportunity to share theirs, to make sure that you don't feel that your life experiences are unique or in any way better than theirs, in whatever way your current "circle" defines "better." We're all trying to "one-up" each other, while simultaneously trying to make sure that we can fit in with our peers well enough to have someone to relate to on an equal plane.

And then, to my utter disappointment and embarrassment, as soon as someone that I am in the same room with tries any of that bullshit, I play right along, making sure that I am not one-upped. Any way I can. I absolutely have to make sure that, no matter how ultimately insignificant it was, my second grade teacher told my mom that I was more intelligent than the majority of my peers and told her to let me know that whenever I felt "bored" in class, or finished an assignment or reading exercise early, to let her know so that she could find something more intellectually stimulating to focus on. Or that, when I was 8, I was reading at a high school level. Or that I could long-divide in 3rd grade. Etc, and so on, and so forth. Any of the things that grate terribly on my nerves when I hear them come out of anyone else's mouth.

There are so many parallels that run through any number of social circles, cliques, groups of people, period. One can be more "morally righteous" than their peers from their local church or youth group. One can be more "hardcore" than their peers in their street gang, more driven in their sports team, prettier or thinner than the girls in their wealthy, suburban group of friends. Richer than their coworker. Have a bigger house than their neighbor.

So now, we bring this rant back to its original point:

I want to go back to school.

I want nothing to do with academic elitism.

I do not want my upcoming status as a student to become something for me to brag about or even talk about, unless in the company of honest and unassuming conversation.

I want to go to school to expand my own personal knowledge, to be challenged by assignments, to excel in something that I am interested in excelling at for the purpose of personal fulfillment. For personal growth. Not for notches on my social, economic or intellectual belt. Not for show-and-tell. For myself.

I am tired of hearing about what music is "best," which books are "worth" reading, which method of photography is more thought-provoking and simplistic enough to be, supposedly, unpretentious. Pretension is what is so often accused by the people who are most guilty of it themselves.

I just want to fucking exist, is that too much to ask?

In their corner:

Smelly fucking hippies, union thugs, MoveOn.org, snobs, terrorist sympathizers, PETA, elitists, Olbermann, jackasses, Kos Kids, soymilk drinkers, Chris Matthews, crybabies, whiners, America haters, pussies, The New York Times, lazy fuckers, fake tits, scolds, militant drag queens, atheists, John Kerry, victims, liars, baby killers, thieves, Code Pink, douche bags, tree huggers, felons, scumbags and general fucking assholes, crackheads and losers.

In our corner:

Entrepreneurs, rugged individualists, soldiers, mothers, God-fearing church goers, small-town folk, gun toters, ass kickers, George W. Bush, Fox News, CEO’s, business owners, baby lovers, hot chicks, Hank Williams, Jr, Swift Boat vets, beer drinkers, hard workers, the well-mannered, real boobs, the charitable, Dick Cheney, a fucking shitload of bombs, Ace of Spades, cowboys, hard workers, the friggin’ Jooos, patriots, the brave, Pat Buchanan, strippers, winners and Kid fucking Rock....

Also hot triplets with an American Flag painted on their hot triplet bodies....

Let’s roll.

By The Denver Post

The best thing about living in a "cowtown" is that it's a great place to meet cowgirls.

Yes, Denverites, a visiting drudge has again aimed the "moo" word at Denver. But we don't mind.Westerners are proud of our heritage, even if most of us today are more likely to write software or produce renewable energy than toil in the mines, farms or ranches that built the West.

We do wish a few Eastern snobs would stop relying on reruns of "Gunsmoke" for their Western history. The real West was a bit different.

For one thing, our women weren't confined to dance halls. Real Western women were, and are, a special breed. It's worth recalling their pathbreaking role in American history as Hillary Clinton ends the most serious race for the presidency yet waged by a woman.

Western women were full partners on the farms, ranches and other enterprises on the frontier. They were also scarce. Single men were more likely than single women to head West to seek their fortune and, sadly, women in those days had a high risk of dying in childbirth.

Scarcity increases the value of any commodity, whether diamonds or the far more precious qualities of women. That's why Wyoming gave women the right to vote in 1869 when it was organized as a territory. Wyoming men, lonely but practical, hoped that treating women as equals would encourage more of them to migrate to the Equality State.

Colorado followed suit in 1893 when it became the second state to give women the right to vote. By the time the 19th Amendment was ratified in 1920, nine states — all in the West — had already given women the right to vote.

In 1916, Montana elected the first woman to the U.S. House of Representatives, Jeannette Rankin. Today, that body is presided over by another Western woman, House Speaker Nancy Pelosi from California.

If we had more time to chat, we could also mention that many of the West's legendary cowboys were African-American, as were the fabled "Buffalo soldiers" who fought the Indian wars.

The point is this: The West may not be wild anymore, but we haven't forgotten the bedrock values of our past — including a belief in the value and dignity of all individuals. And that's why we're proud to be a cowtown.

  Juicy Planet has been put on ORANGE ALERT due to the curious socio-medical condition whose origin has been traced to the DNA of females born and raised into the American upper middle, lower upper, and middle flyweight classes. The disease, popularly known as the Inverted Stepford, seems to take hold in female subjects in early adulthood, when being privileged and rich sours a tad due to the double pressures of having to be successful at some high level of some kind of field while simultaneously expected to act as a subservient to all the males in her environment, at least in public, regardless of how much more intelligent, talented, or confident the female may be when compared to the male she is seen stiffly standing next to.

The original Stepford Wife virus was actually developed and perfected by garden variety sexist males who sought to maintain complete control over their wives, to the point of altering their wives ability to remember how lovely flip flops felt beneath their wet feet, let alone what personality they may have had before being infected.

Inverted Stepford differs from the original strain in that these females seem to enjoy living with the virus; looking, standing and speaking as if they believe the rhetoric of their unattractive right wing spouses, understanding the exquisite pleasure of deferred power, when the cameras are turned off and they can abuse the maid, the dog, the flight attendant, behind closed doors. Many of these subjects seem to share a penchant for prescription drugs, so it is advised to clean out your medicine cabinet before invited one over for tea. The risk of contagious infection is low, although these females do tend to cause an awful lot of damage at the political and cultural levels of society, likely as they are to sit on various and sundry corporate and hospital boards and to be married to politicians, ministers, and Republicans. See entries for: Cindy McCain, Victoria Osteen, et al.

CLICK for evidence of Inverted-Stepford-Illness

I was pleasantly surprised to visit with one of the people I wanted to see at the reunion, who as it turns out should have been part of my circle of friends in high school if not for the popularity race.  Many others were also enthusiastic about seeing me again, which was nice.

The preps, the cheerleaders, the wannabes... they all sat together with their fake enthusiasm for people they probably hadn't bothered to even keep in touch with all these years and seemed to turn their nose up at everyone else rather than act grown-up and reminisce and visit with everyone else.  I made an attempt to float to at least every group and shake several hands and give friendly words but there were those who made no obvious attempt to socialize outside of their cliques.

Sadly, it's those people who'll never know how awesome I was in high school, and how I'm so much better than even that now.

I also got a chance to visit with people I wish I'd stayed in better contact with, one of whom has been living here the whole time and I've never even run into him.

Sure, reunions should be a time to catch up with old friends, but in the internet age, it's not hard to keep track of people and keep lines of communication open.  This leads me to believe that most of these people who seemed to be just wanting to catch up to their old friends are simply trying to keep their image up.  If they were such good friends with these people, how come they haven't talked to each other in 10 years?  C'mon people, let's walk in reality for a while.

I'm not trying to dissuade anyone from going to their high school reunions, but definitely don't expect anything to be different.  If you were popular, get over it.  If you act like a good many did at my reunion, you're going to leave with a seriously negative image left in the minds of many people you knew.  Ya know, several of them are even practicing lawyers and such in the area, and after the displays of arrogance this weekend I'll never even consider sending them any business simply because of the way they have treated people in the past and seemingly continue to treat people.  It's rather sickening, actually.

Last summer we visited him at his job and went on a walk all around one side of the Institution. The sky started dropping raindrops (of course), but we kept going, letting our two dogs pull us along by their leashes. Despite the horrible weather, I found every aspect of the Institution absolutely gorgeous.

This year we visited again, walking along on the red brick and gazing in awe at some of the beautiful old homes. Again, it started raining while we were there. At first I braved the rain, letting the hood of my hoodie soak up the wetness, but then it became too much for me to handle. My dad gave me the umbrella he had been holding for me, and I put it up, instantly relieved by the dryness. Everywhere we looked, there were pretty houses and beautiful mansions. We passed a few houses that were erected this past winter of '08; houses that didn't even exist when we visited last year.

The snobby people that live there ignored us, so we ignored them. We walked and walked and walked, looking left and right at the architecture. We passed the Opera house and visited the Rain Garden outside of the theater building. We visited the Amphitheater again and listened to the Chautauqua Choir for a little while. I still find the Amphitheater amazing.

If I lived in the Institution, I would want to own a small cottage near the lake, overlooking the water. I would walk and ride my bike everywhere, and would go to the Amphitheater daily. Maybe I would try going to the Opera, but I would probably end up covering my ears and running out.

Our visits there have been pleasant - despite the heavy rainfall. Hopefully some Sunday we will go there WITHOUT rain following behind us.

Wow. Don't get me wrong, I love a little pretentious ass-hattery every now and then, but David Brooks has gone off the deep end today when he laments the transformed nature of cultural elitism. That is, the transformation that has left culture hoarding elitists like himself sidelined by the availability of information over the internet. Like other columns which seem reasonable at first glance, Brooks grasps desperately to preserve a conservative notion -- in this case cultural -- by dressing his argument in less menacing verbiage. This one is even more ludicrous than most, starting with Brooks playfully pretending to answer a "Dear Abby" style letter as Soren Mother Fucking Kierkegaard.

Dear Dr. Kierkegaard,

All my life I’ve been a successful pseudo-intellectual, sprinkling quotations from Kafka, Epictetus and Derrida into my conversations, impressing dates and making my friends feel mentally inferior. But over the last few years, it’s stopped working. People just look at me blankly. My artificially inflated self-esteem is on the wane. What happened?

Existential in Exeter

Holy fucking shit. Now I realize that Brooks is trying to be funny, but since he spends the rest of his column wistfully bitching about how the iPhone and the Kindle and other information aggregators have ruined culture, I'm not entirely sure he really thinks this is too funny. If anything, he's probably dismayed he can no longer impress women with witty channellings of Camus into discussions about corporate tax cuts. (Has this ever worked in the first place?).

Anyway, I can't quote all of his bombast, so I suggest you read it yourself, but here's his main point:

On that date [when the iPhone was released], media displaced culture. As commenters on The American Scene blog have pointed out, the means of transmission replaced the content of culture as the center of historical excitement and as the marker of social status...

...prestige has shifted from the producer of art to the aggregator and the appraiser. Inventors, artists and writers come and go, but buzz is forever. Maximum status goes to the Gladwellian heroes who occupy the convergence points of the Internet infosystem — Web sites like Pitchfork for music, Gizmodo for gadgets, Bookforum for ideas, etc

Umm...really? I'm pretty sure guys in rock bands, famous authors (apparently not Brooks, though), and actors--you know, "cultural producer" types--still get laid like they have the last cock on earth. Certainly more than the guys who run Gizmodo, anyway. Besides, even if this were true, it doesn't change the fact that Brooks' argument is one protracted complaint that the democratic expansion of information ushered by the internet, and yes, the iPhone, has undermined his status as a snob. What a fucking douche.

(As a side note, I'm not entirely sure that the power of the cultural aggregator is by any means a new phenomenon. Magazines, newspapers, and other books have been compiling, reviewing, and criticizing culture for as long as culture has existed. That the internet has allowed for speedier digestion and more robust compilation is a good thing, if you're in to that. Anyway, back to the post.)

Brooks' evidence of this "tectonic shift" of all things cultural is explained in this fallacious bromide.

Today, Kindle can change the world, but nobody expects much from a mere novel. The brain overshadows the mind. Design overshadows art.

No, you dense, pointy-headed pedant. The Kindle can change the world because it can help facilitate exposing more people to more books and more authors and more art. Why is this bad? Ultimately it means that Brooks' knowledge of obscure Greek plays is devalued, culturally speaking, by the ability of a greater number of people having access to them. This of course threatens Brooks, who as a conservative shill, relies on disguising his ideas within pure, unadulterated pseudo-intellectual bibble-babble. If more people are able to cut through the bibble-babble, his job will get a lot tougher.

And I never thought I'd see the day where I defended the iPhone phenomenon.

These same fans however, bother me to the point of disgust at times.  This weekend I happened to notice someone was running Ubuntu Linux on his Macbook Pro.  Since I had nothing better to do at the time, I attempted to make small talk and commented on how much I enjoy Ubuntu.  Said Linux person replied quickly that he hated Ubuntu, and preferred openSUSE.  However, he did mention that the reason openSUSE was in fact not installed was because it was tricky and difficult to get it installed, where as Ubuntu installed easily and gave him little trouble.  I was given only one reason that he hated Ubuntu, and that was because it made people look like idiots.

Well no shit buddy, most people that use computers are idiots.  I give it to the guy that he knows how to configure and install tarballs, configure important system files, and sift around to find some sort of workable drivers.  That is great and he is most likely better at it then I am, but hey I don't want to spend 2 hours getting my video card to function like I had to do with Dapper Drake.  All versions of Ubuntu since then have done it for me in seconds.  Fresh installs just get up and running with all that basic starting bullshit taken care of for me.  This seems to aggravate hardcore Linux users, because they like to configure everything themselves, and therefore feel angry when Ubuntu takes that away from them.  Even though it doesn't really, Ubuntu is just as configurable as any other Linux, the only difference is that someone who isn't a multiple computer science major can use it with barely any trouble.

Ubuntu is taking a very good step with it's usability and marketing.  Ubuntu is more commonly searched in on Google then Linux is these days.  Now if these Linux snobs can get over the fact that more people are using it, and that some people enjoy going outside a few times a day over staying inside wondering why their opensolaris computer won't stay online longer then 5 minutes before I have to pull the Ethernet cable out and replace it.  (It happened!)

Point is, like it or not, more people are using Linux, and it is a good thing!  Everyone should have access to wonderful free open source programs, and nice secure operating systems that are free of the viral plagues that is the world of Windows.

1. Smokers. If you want to rush towards your own death. Fabulous. More power to you, but don't piss on my life w/your masochistic habit.

2. People who litter. The ground is not a garbage can. Plastic wrap is not biodegradable--and that includes you fuckwits who leave "doggie" bags in street compost piles.  P.S. hiding it beneath the grass clippings doesn't get you off the hook.

3. People who don't neuter/spay their pets. I could go on for hours on this one. It's just irresponsible and all the excuses you dish out about biology, freedom, animal slavery, taking away "his manhood," etc, etc is bullshit.

4. People who don't have the common courtesy to RSVP. You have been personally invited to a party, gathering, dinner, coffee, walk in the park--how lucky that someone cares about you that much to include you. How blessed you are. Now don't be a fuck wit and ignore it. "Thank you, yes I would love to" or "Thank you, I won't be able to attend." That's all it takes. Two minutes of your so very busy day.

5. Neighbors who leaf blow their yards, garbage, what-nots out onto the street and call it done. The street (again) is not your personal dumping ground. The city is not your personal maid, I don't care what kind of taxes you pay. Clean up your surroundings and that doesn't end at your property line.

6. People who tell you to lighten up. If I had a machete for every time someone said that to me, well . . . I'd be on death row. Not everyone is a free-for-all party maven. Woo-hoo! Let's get drunk and act like we did when we were in high school. I did it then. It's done. I'm over it. Stop trying to yank me into your mid-life crisis.

7. People who love to tell you how to improve your life by acting, dressing, dieting, exercising, decorating, partying, marrying, birthing, mommying, striving, networking, flirting, evolving the way THEY HAVE.  I never asked; and if I did I was only making polite conversation.

8. As with #7, people who inform me I NEED to: be more politically informed, get global, get local, write a letter for their cause,  join their political campaign, get on their bandwagon, sign this reform, read the Wall Street Journal, vote the only way, their way;

9. People who insist I: take THEIR brand of vitamins, be a vegetarian, vegan, meat eater, protester, tie myself to a tree. Forward their stupid chain letters! See THEIR hairstylist, dress UP, dress DOWN, wear less, wear more: jewelry, heels, push-up bras, eye-liner, eye-shadow, foundation--yes, then no; lipstick--"red! Oh yes!" "Red--oh God, no;"

10. People who tell me to: be more creative, more focused, more artistic, less artistic--"if you're not in a gallery you're nothing." Be more educated, more cultured, more worldly, daring, dramatic, learn French. Get a professional job, career, office suit, wear grey wool and nylons, network, buy a cell phone, a laptop, get call-waiting, caller id, a blackberry, i-phone, i-tunes,  more gigahertz. Get a Mac--no a  PC; learn In Design--no Quark.  

11. People who tell me my joys aren't good enough. Be a BIGGER gardener, a more PROLIFIC reader, a more DEVOTED artist, a more SUBSTANTIAL writer, walk further, join a 10K, bicycle harder, raise your heart rate MORE, lower your cholesterol MORE, join THIS gym.

12. People who insist I: dance (tango) better, practice more, stretch MORE, lift MORE weights, listen to traditional ONLY, dress UP, dress DOWn. Go to Argentina--"you really can't UNERSTAND tango until you've been". Get higher heels "You'll learn, when you are BETTER, to like 3 1/2" heels"--no; no I fucking won't;  Embrace them closer--"let me lead," he says--yuck. No. You're fat, old, panting and sweating. I am not going to embrace anything about you. Loose weight yourself, join a gym, give me some space to dance, I am not your concubine.

13. Because I'm all out of steam, very tired and I don't want to strive for anything, anywhere better THAN WHAT I AM DOING RIGHT NOW, BECAUSE RIGHT NOW IS ALL I HAVE and that goes for you too. So, thank you for sharing and fuck you.

Anyway, the music made up for it. Day started with a nice, long and stressful journey out Malahide to a friend of a friends who lives right beside the castle. Scorcher of a day, so we sat around drinking, BBQ'n and getting burnt. The perfect warm up. The venue was about half full when we got there, the sun was still shining and didn't stop until after 10pm. Beautiful setting for a beautiful gig.

I must mention the trickery of a friend of the friend of a friend, who managed to sneak into the gig. Dressed in slacks, a shirt and a waistcoat, armed with 5 litres of milk and a pass around the neck for some event in Croke Park, they walked right up to the gate and claimed to be delivering milk. When asked for a pass, they showed the Croke Park pass briefly, cracked a joke and in they went, then promptly dumped the milk in a corner somewhere. While this is pure genius and I can't believe it worked, you'd wonder how many people sneak into these things. Bit harsh on the band in question but then again the price of the ticket was a bit harsh on the regular, honest punter.

So, Bat for Lashes kicked off at about 7pm. My review below was fairly glowing of Natasha Khan's album 'Fur and Gold', but unfortunately the live experience didn't live up to it. Not that it was bad it was just a bit dull. The crowd weren't interested because they were all snobs, impatiently waiting for Radiohead plus the sun was too tempting not to lie on the grass for the evening. The instruments employed were real nice however, including a bizarre one stringed violin sized piece that had a brass horn attached to it, played with a bow, which I must find out what it is. It was good but the album's better.

After much roadie action and jostling for a good spot in the crowd, Radiohead took to the stage around 8:30.

From start to finish they were perfect, with a minor blip from Johnny on 'Videotape', which they promptly stopped and picked up a minute later perfectly. The general perfection was disappointing though. I mean, now I've paid €130 to hear the 'In Rainbows' album as it was recorded (€70 for gig, €60 for boxset). Ok fair enough it's not at the scale of the Tom Waits rip off and I'm happy that I got value for money with the boxset, but I expect more from a performance especially from a band of the calibre of Radiohead.

Anyway, not to be a complete downer, it was still enjoyable. They avoided most of the classics like the majority of their first 3 albums, apart from 'Planet Telex', 'Climbing Up The Walls' (a highlight) and 'Airbag'.

The 'Kid A/Amnesiac' songs were brilliant, in this case I'm amazed at how they reproduce this music live. It's sheer brilliance. Then there was the best from 'Hail to the Thief', no more than 3 songs. They also threw in 'Bangers and Mash and a new song, 'Supercollider', that Yorke performed solo on piano, still rough around the edges though.

I guess my main disappointment was with the performance of the 'In Rainbows' tracks. They played it all except for 'House of Cards', including a nice little acoustic duet of 'Faust Arp'. All these songs were performed exactly like they are on the album, with very little passion in the performances. There was some nice moments like 'Videotape' and 'Jigsaw Falling Into Place', but overall it felt a bit dull for a live performance.

The light show was amazing. As you can see from the pictures, there was strips of lights the height of the stage at the sides and back and about 10 foot above the stage in the middle. The colours and effects the came out of these was incredible, although it would have been nicer if it was darker but I'm not going to complain about the great weather and long evenings. The screens at the back and sides had mainly close up shots of the band and their instruments, a real nice touch for the musos. It also worked with the strips of lighting, creating a stunning visual experience.

All in all it was a good, enjoyable gig, and a great day out, would do it all again tomorrow if I could. Just a shame there was too many negatives. Also, surprising that the additional night (which was actually the Friday night) wasn't sold out. The Saturday sold out within an hour or so but tickets for Friday were still available...

The man answered, "I don't know."  She walked away and I turned to the man and said, "she needs to walk the fuck back there and find out for herself."  He looked at me and I responded, "I'm sorry but she really just pissed me off with that question." 

"Are you having a bad day?"  he asked.

"No," I said, "she just annoyed me with that question."

Most girls would be happy to be at GS. I, however am not. My GS are almost all snobs. Well they can ALL be, when they want to. Except my friends Valerie and Samantha. They are nice. Anyway, (I get off track alot remember?) I changed from my last year of Juniors to Teens. The age dept. has made one big gtoup called Teens so we are all one big troup. Instead of two groups inside another. YAY!! NOT!! Then we went to my Aunt's homemade b-day party. It was fun but exhausting.

Today, our schedules were all screwed up. We had classes as the following:

Mod 9 (chorus)

Mod 10 (gym)

Mod 3 (GT World Cultures)

LUNCH

Mod 5/6 (math)

Mod 7/8 (reading)

Mod 1 (Language)

Mod 2 (Science)

We had science for 10 minutes because we had our Locker Clean Out. Another thing you don't know about me, is I am a pack-rat and am EXTREMELY unorganized. A Panera bag stuffed to the brim, a full backpack stuffed with stuff from my locker. AND I THREW MOST OF IT AWAY!! Had another shift at the library... (for my old elementary school Essex <3) and got two new books... Not much in the land of boring. Oh! Wait! I accidentaly sent my dad a mesage with a cuss word in it, got in trouble for going 193 texts over my non-Verizon text limit. Which is 500 messages, incoming AND outgoing. So you have to be like, socially disconnected to NOT go over the limit!! Ya know?? Tomorrow is my Sixth Grade Extravaganza!A cheesy attempt to keep us from noticing the 7th grade are going to Medieval Times and the 8th grade went SOMEWHERE on a field trip this year. NOT US!! But no classes besides mod 10 at the very end of the day but Ms. Epple TOTALLY rocks!!

From where I'm at in college and geographically, I've run into a lot of people from mainly three regions of the country: The Mid-west (mainly Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Wisconsin, Minnesota), The East (mainly DC area, Pennsylvania , NY state) and the South (mainly Kentucky, Virginia, W Virginia). There is this weird mix of Mid-west, South and East that goes on in Cincinnati--I don't think it really knows what it is-- but its comfortable being that.

Personally, I think there is some truth to the myth that East Coast people are "snobby" as the stereotype goes. I don't think its particularly snobby, just they would easily be your friend and stab you in the back-- like a politician. Whenever I meet someone nice from out East, I feel like I'd have to check my back for a while before I realize if they are "nice" or actually legitimately nice. Guys from the East stick together as if they were all gay--its really weird--something I've noticed is that they are very self conscious about who they are seen with, like a girl in high school. This same thing happens everywhere , but its really weird to see it happen in college with groups of men. My roommate from out East my freshman year was like this--not that he would stab me in the back-- but he was always with the same people and when I would ask him to come out with different people, it was completely out of the question-- he didn't hang around with me once, not once and now he wants a high five every time i see him--what a weirdo. That seems to be the characteristic of some phony people-- the high five-- high fives are gay unless you are like two years old, its almost like degrading for someone to even offer you a gay ass high five. Come to think of it, another guy from NY state always tries to give me high fives-- i'll make a special effort not to hang out with him anymore. I don't even like hanging out with the same people; most people bore the fuck out of me anyways.

People from Boston have to wear their Red Sox hats everywhere; they remind me of the Cubs fans--just obnoxious.

Detroit people, even when they move to Chicago, keep their Detroit Tigers hats on--I respect you Detroit fans immensely for that.

Ohioans talk slower than Chicagoans. They abandon their home teams (Reds and Indians) in Ohio and always wear the damn Cubs hats if they move to Chicago. Regardless, I like the State of Ohio because you can carry weapons and I'm all for civil liberties, even if I don't choose to carry.

People from Indiana are either really fun to hang around with, or tool ROTC guys--not that all are.

It is defintely true that people from Kentucky drink more whiskey than beer. Many of them grow beards and smoke a lot of pot with out being annoying stoners trying to push their culture on you; people from Kentucky smoke pot not to be counter -cultural, but because they always have (its not called the bluegrass state for nothing). My perception of Kentucky comes from Louisville and Lexington: I would live in both cities based on the people I have met from there.

There are two types of Illinois people: those from the Chicago area and those not. The ones that are not from my experience are usually cool and have no desire to go to the Chicago area. I know one guy from Alton, IL--he went back there. People from Chicago need a whole blog because they don't know their own ignorance. The women raised there are all daddies' girls. A few months ago, I was trying to a make a conversation with a girl from the Chicago area. She told my friend later, that I was trying to hit on her. 1) I wasn't 2) even though she is an ugly Illinois girl from the northern suburbs of Chicago, she had the privilege to talk to me. (There is going to be a future post on the unique yet distinguishable ignorance aspects of the regions of Chicago).

Wisconsin is one of my favorite States. Wisconsin people are down to earth like some Chicagoans and can drink any Chicagoan under the table without being a belligerent asshole. They are friendly and like beer and brats; I like beer and brats=I like Wisconsin. The roads in Wisconsin are as so smooth, you physically feel it going from bumpy shit in Illinois to baby butt smooth on the Wisconsin-illinois line--its like a pampers commercial. Oh and no Illinois Toll roads or as I call it--the mob's wallet.

Minnesota people aren't as much into brats, but they are very much into beer. They don't seem to have the urge to stab you in the back, because there is nothing to really fight over in Minnesota. Minnesota is like the American version of Canada. I was reading the suicide rate is so small in St. Paul, despite being so cold--hmm could it be because people enjoy each others company there.

Today’s question brought out the mama lion in old Aunt Bloggie! Most of the time people have coming what is coming their way, but I believe this time that is not the case.

PS.... I must invite you all to my new twice-monthly “News and Views” Blog.

“Aunt Bloggie At Large” 

If you wondered about my views of world events, off the short leash... this blog's for you!

Now on to today's question!

Dear Aunt Bloggie,

If I am being a woeful whiney infant, just tell me to get over my bad self and I will chin up.  As my Turkish grandmother would put it, I feel like the cheese in the toast! My first blog efforts are being slammed by academics as being an example of “the narcissism and banality of so many blogs.” Another “distinguished professor” wonders “why choose to expose your unremarkable opinions, and sententious drivel to the potential gaze of total strangers?” Are only individuals with “sententious” engraved on the tips of their silver-plated tongues entitles to comment on Shakespeare? I was nearly prepared to let these posts pass, when I was broadsided on the opposite side. “Come back to the cow pastures where you belong.”  A second ago I was skewered for commenting without a proper pedigree, and now I’m lambasted for “hanging with Hottentots” and turning my back on my roots in Paris. That’s Paris Missouri. It went downhill after that. After explaining that I could not be much more rooted than to work in the local factory, I was informed that family-rearing men needed those jobs. Males have a median income of $27,813 versus $18,580 for females in gay (not!) Paris.

I digress with my root pulling and drivel bloviation.  All I want to know is this. Is there any rule that says you gotta have a PhD to read Shakespeare, and is it an insult to your upbringing to read it while sitting in your pickup truck on break from the PVC pipe factory?

Signed,

Trash Outsider And Society Turncoat

Dear T.O.A.S.T.

Congratulations on engendering (Ha!) comments from both the elitist snobs and the podunk pontificators! Btw... there really is a Podunk, and its history out to give your detractors some pause as they contemplate the wheels of justice. Located on Bolter Creek, it was a small manufacturing community and at its peak had a population of about 100 people. Podunk got its name from the way the rushing waters of Bolter Creek descended on a sawmill wheel. According to some accounts of local history in Podunk, a vigilante group in the 1880s, wearing white caps and masks, tied the Town Highway Superintendent to a tree and gave him a thrashing for beating his wife. Some say he done it cause he caught her reading Shakespeare! Anyway, it is my own belief that provoking and promoting a wide range of viewpoints is part of the mission.

But now I digress and I surely want to return to my main point, which admittedly I’ve kept back like a right uppercut.  We have here something well beyond the boundaries of “wide range of opinion.” Now dear Toast, I still maintain that you should disregard comments by elitist snobs and the podunk pontificators, but I think they are absolutely fair game for your Aunt Bloggie!

1. Elitist Snobs:  In all my years I have preached the value of education. I myself went back to school after 70 for MLA. But when it comes to the moment to moment value of individual ideas, I have seen zero predicative value in the number of letters behind the name. You can add gender and race and age and every other artificial category to the list. I honestly feel sorry for a person who would say things like what that so called professor said to you! They are a disgrace to the very books they must have pretended to read!

2. Podunk Pontificators:  Now I was born in Intercourse Missouri. That's right... I grew up in Arkansas announcing to my new teachers and classmates that I came from Intercourse.  I don’t know why my family could not have moved to Defiant or Reliant or Hallsville before I was born.  Anyway, I know a thing or two about reverse snobbery. Why you have to run down anyone who aspires to a life outside of the town boundaries, I will never know. Why anyone should decide not to ever leave is a personal matter. Why someone should not even read about life beyond the borders is just lazy or cowardly. Goes double for criticizing someone who shows ambition and courage.

Sincerely,

Aunt Bloggie

h/t to Weasel and commenter Lokki.

Model (name): Drea Michelle
Height: 5′4″
Weight: 120 lbs
Measurements: 34C-25-34
Nationality: Hungarian
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DOB: 12-04-87
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Turn-ons: Pecs, abs, arms, sexy eyes, white teeth, sense of humor, and a good heart
Turn-offs: Snobs, cocky, mean to other people, and sarcasm
Special skills: hip-hop dance, singing, and basketball
Occupation: college student

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I know everybody is entitled to their own lifestyle and granted everybody should enjoy being what they are but....come on now.  I don't walk around telling my buddy accross the cube from me what kind of Starbucks(fivebucks) coffee has the best oroma and kick in the morning. Its like these people crave attention and the only way they acheive it is if they speak in a LOUD VOICE so that the whole office can hear them. So i say enough with the bad jokes and fake laughs. Enough with your pretend golf swings in the middle of the aisle. Enough with your feeble attempts at creating "vegan sandwiches" with bean sprouts and asparagus. Enough of your superficial bullshit that we, the regular people, have to put up with Monday through Friday from 9 - 5.

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH

-gone-

concertele punk in deva sunt interesante. au un public restrans, insa intens, care se bucura de fiecare moment al concertului. eu zic asa: decat sa mergi la un concert la o formatie mare sa platesti 20-30 RON pe bilet, mai bine mergi cu 5 RON la un astfel de concert si poate iti iei si un tricou, o insigna cva si astfel incurajezi o formatie care nu este comerciala sau care face muzica pentru altceva decat bani. de aici ramane la alegerea voastra unde si cum mergeti, eu doar mi-am spus parerea...puteti merge la ce concert vreti

aici aveti niste informatiile ce vor canta:

KATETER

THE sNOBS

TORPEDO

Lack of manners.

Actually, that's just one of my gripes, but it's my biggest issue with dealing with the public.  (Before I go on this rant, I apologise to my customers who DO understand common courtesy and aren't afraid to use it.)

What ever happened to responding when someone speaks to you?  If I say 'hello', 'how are you', 'good morning' or 'is there something I can help you with?', I expect a response.  Do you think I'm a crazy having a nice little convo with myself?  (Actually, you are right about the crazy part, but I DO try to behave myself as much as I can when I'm working.)

In our society, it is polite for me to acknowledge your presence in my place of business.  I understand you want to feel comfortable in your role as customer, so I greet you when you enter.  Keep in mind, this is an amazing feat for me, considering, a) I am generally unsociable, and b) I hate mornings.  Yeah, you have your issues and I have mine, but that doesn't mean you can't open your mouth and return my greeting.  And, just to be clear, a *grunt* is NOT an acceptable response!

If you find yourself unable to reply verbally (like, say, if you have your mouth full or something), don't be afraid to wave or at least look at me to let me know you acknowledge my acknowledgement of you.  Grunting is for animals.  Manners are for people.  Actually, if you grunt at me or in my general direction, you can rest assured that I will consider you an animal!

Never, never, never forget that the people providing goods and/or services to you are NOT beneath you.  You may consider their role in society is lower on the ladder than yours or their perceived financial status makes them seem less of a person, but YOU would be WRONG.  Now, this sounds a little like I'm having a dig at wealthy people, but I'm actually directing this at elitists and snobs in general.  (I KNOW your mama taught you better.)  It's the people who say (or think) "don't you know who I am??", expecting their dismissive attitude to get them better service.  Uh, hello!!  Niceness begets niceness.  What is that saying about attracting flies with honey?

A person is a human being is a person, and deserves no less respect for the work they do than you would expect for whatever it is you do.  Plus, that person you look down your nose at (or grunt at) could be the brainiac that cures cancer one day, or they could be the mass murderer that loses the plot on your sorry ass.

Bugger, I'm all distracted with the happy mental picture of that now.  Where was I?

Oh yeah, mind your manners! 

Should you forget yours next time you are in my place of business, I will be sure to remind you.  Most likely in some passive-agressive way that will let you know I'm bothered, without gaining your ire.  Cos I don't like confrontation.

BUT if I do have to remind you (probably by saying please for you or greeting you with stony silence):

• Do not wait for an agreeable smile to light up my face - I am pissed and I want you to know it
• Expect my eyes to expressively convey the same contempt you have shown me
• Accept that you are no longer welcome and you SHOULD feel uncomfortable
• Consider that both our days would have been much better for a more pleasant interaction

Smile and acknowledge. :)