Yeah, well, you see... today's been somewhat of an off-day, and I think that's the understatement of a lifetime. So to that regard, there will likely be zero posts to this website until I can get things sorted out. I trust my affiliates, located to the left, will keep you entertained in my absense.
Two things. I may have sort of understated the importance of the Ben Folds concert in an attempt to appear laid back or whatever the desirable trait is these days, and for that I'm slowly becoming regretful. Here's a guy - Folds, that is - who was pretty much solely responsible for introducing me to the field of music in 9th grade. I mean, to be completely honest, my experiences before that were limited to the peripheral realm of social interaction (something I was not entirely accustom to back then) and were somewhat nonexistant. I had bought two CD's in my entire life before stumbling over Whatever and Ever, and they weren't even anything to be elated about - Pisces Iscariot and that really popular Offspring album with a skeleton on the front. But Ben - I mean, there's just so much to take in from his albums, especially to someone listening to music for the first time, really... there's the unreal mastery of the piano, which blew me away when I had first heard it; some bizarre lyrics that made, still do make a lot of sense to me. I remember staying up one night, after having found a bootleg copy of "Underground" - the same copy that eventually appeared on Naked Baby Photos, but this was long before then - way past when I normally do, with all the lights on and the song playing at a volume I don't normally crank things to at that time of night, singing along without a care in the world, elated that I had found something so wonderful, that seemed to express at least some part of me so perfectly. And then there's the incident when I was listening to Philosophy on some borrowed high-quality headphones, and noticed so many nuances and piano parts my speakers had until then muddled beyond recognition, and I had all but cried right then and there - how was I depriving myself of this, how had I missed this integral part of the song; but more than that, if Philosophy was this complex, what had I missed in all of the other songs? Then there was the Big Shindig back in '98, where Ben Folds Five headlined and played to a darkened ampitheater for over an hour, and I just plugged my ears (to get a better aural experience, the acoustics of that place were not so great) and closed my eyes and mouthed the words to myself with this huge dumb grin on my face - yes, that grin - and for whatever reason having to leave early because the parent that drove us there had work the next morning didn't bother me that much, after having heard what was capable by honestly talented musicians in a live setting. I mean, fuck, guys, I don't know if anyone else can say that one group, one guy, has had as huge an influence on their lives as Ben Folds has had on mine, but I know I certainly wouldn't be the same person I am today had I not heard what I had heard four, five years ago.
And then - I mean, dude, I was fucking right there, and dude, he pointed right at me during that one, and jesus christ, dude, you could have shot me in the face and I wouldn't have known.
It's at times like that, in a darkened club, sweaty and aching from standing for five hours straight, that I curse my inadequate grasp of human language, and I curse language's inability to convey emotion, because my god, if I could just convey - if more people felt like I did right then, this world wouldn't have allowed for what happened yesterday.
Which brings me to point two. I notice two extremes, but nothing in the gray area, and I think it's gray area that we need right now. There are those who really don't have a grasp on anything apart from their own seething emotional impulses, and who fail to realize the ultimately self-destructive ramifications of what is basicially unwavering nihilism. Fight Club made this point perfectly - and woe unto you if you didn't catch this - that it's fun to think about destroying it all and building it back up in our youth, but eventually we [should] come to realize that doing that really serves no purpose other than some sort of giant circle-jerk with like minded individuals whose personal stake in the world - or rather, the lack of such a stake - lends them to destruction. Not to say that that's an exclusive characteristic, because it certainly isn't; the problem is that society, humanity cannot really exist if we're so prone to our destructive tendencies that we ignore the consequences.
However! We as a nation certainly cannot sit back and think about this for any great length of time, for such an action lends itself to not pacifism but instead tolerance of horrible and intolerable acts against humanity. The standard argument against people who suggest we solve this dilemma - how terrible it is that I use that word to describe this situation - by sitting all involved parties down and talking it out is that we tried that with Hitler, remember? -- yeah, that whole World War II thing. I could list more examples, but the point is that certain cultures, certain societies simply do not recognise spoken word as law. Someone mentioned today that the Koran (Quaran) promises a heavenly afterlife to those who knock on the gates of death with the skulls of their enemies, for god's sake. No matter what the threat of retaliation is, the abhorrent behavior will continue until action is taken to prevent it.
Afghanistan isn't a country - it's a loosely organized group of warring factions. The only reason the Taliban (?) is recognised as the "government" is because they're the largest and most powerful faction. We have passenger manifests that prove agents of bin Laden were on each of the hijacked flights. The US government has been eerily silent in the first 24 hours - uncharacteristically silent, at least. What does it all mean?
What I hope, at least, is that at this very moment, details are being collected to point to the precise individuals responsible. Task groups are being sent out, and those individuals are being brought to justice. The government will tell us all of this after it has occured. Our military spending will increase, and our military presence in known terrorist nations will increase as well. Our tolerance of hostile events will be severely diminished.
Is this the best solution? Of course not - that would have been if none of this had ever occured. The thing is, it's far worse to respond to this event weakly than with too much force. The United States should put its might to use to ensure that the last 36 hours will never be repeated in the free world again - if we don't, we'd be just as cowardly as the terrorists who boarded those planes.
Addendum: another site I just stumbled on made a point that I will repeat here: It's time for America to show strength. Part of true strength is a thoughtful but forceful response to this terrorist action. The response should be defined and strong - powerful enough to make any other potential terrorists, or those who would harbor them, think very strongly about the consequences of their actions. Two simple steps: first, get it right. Second, respond.
Today's one of those days where you don't want to say anything.
So I'm not going to say anything.
Link.
Link.
Link.
Link.
We all know how often I go to concerts - that is, never - so Saturday night was a big thing for me. Even moreso when you realize it took a total of something like 6 hours of driving to get there and another 6 to get back. So, when I arrived at Trav's place at 6:30, I was geared up pretty well for the big shindig. We left awhile later, caught the opening bands for a little, and I was pretty psyched up about the whole thing, despite standing in one place for two hours or more before Ben took the stage. But that was okay!
Some guys had come out beforehand and taped a setlist to
strategic places on the floor, and although we were not quite close enough to the stage to read them, the people in front of us were, and we - or, Andrew - managed to snap this picture later on of what was set to play. Of note is "Hiro," about a Japanese businessman (named Hiro, coincidentally) who has an affair with his secretary and whose life sucks ass, and [Ben]'ll say that again, except this time it'll be music. Mommy was also interesting, about molestation as a child and (at least I think this was the same song) sticking bigger and bigger things up one's butt. Maybe that was Hiro; the whole night was kind of a haze.
Then they took the stage, and man, did they rock. Ben's
touring with a backup band, consisting of Snüzz the guitar man, someone whose name escapes me the bassist, and some other guy whose name escapes me who plays the triangle and sometimes the drums. So they rocked it hardcore for awhile, then Ben slowed it down with Fred Jones part 2 and Losing Lisa, and then brought it all back for some hardcore rockage (again!). Sometimes I wish I had a bigger vocabulary when it comes to describing concerts, but alas, that's all I can think of.
There are lots more of those, but to get them all you'll have to go to Andrew's site, for it was his camera and he is entirely responsible for them being as damned cool as they are. So yeah, that was awesome - everyone I could see was headbanging to Rockin' the Suburbs, which is far far far far more excellent live than it is on the album. They just can't put the kind of energy Ben puts into it live on the album. It's not possible.
Oh, and then afterwards we hung around and got some autographs and met the guy. So, yeah.
Thank god the people across the hall are watching the MTV whatever awards, or I would be spared the sort of insightful commentary I've been receiving for the past FOREVER AGO. Among the highlights: after a performance of what I think was that Moulin Rouge song by, among others, a very skanky Aguilera, one of the viewers commented "Wow, that was awesome, did you see the choreography?" Or after being informed that Moby won the best male video award, "Dude, that sucks! I mean, I guess the video's okay, but his music sucks." It was at this point that I cranked "Honey" as loud as it would go. Which wasn't nearly loud enough, but since my DVD player can't handle burned CDs I can't bring it up to the 75db mark. Damn these computer speakers. Oh, and did I mention the shrill, ear-piercing cry of laughter that comes out of that place every time the host cracks a joke? My god, it's like it's World War 2 and the English have just dropped the Funniest Joke In The World in Holmes 125.
The cafeteria food here is really, really good.
Tomorrow I go home for the weekend. Well, not really, because on Satuday I'm going up to see that Ben Folds concert. I'll let you all know how it turns out, and don't worry if I don't post anything here for awhile. I'll be back on Monday at the latest. Until then...
A smooth #150.
I knew those countless, painful hours spent converting this site from broken and error-ridden tables to the cleaner and more efficent CSS-style layout would pay off some day.
What have I learned today? One, there are no bouncy balls for sale in Clemson. None. Not at Bi Lo, not at CVS, not at Eckerds. None. Two, hills are awesome - no, really. There's nothing better than climbing an ass-big hill just to descend another the same size, then climb another twice as long. Three, if you get hit with a rubber bouncy ball, it leaves a welt bigger than being hit with a paintball.
Four! Alex, in addition to having redesigned in a very positive way, has agreed to make me a necklace. Forget cleanliness, Alex is next to Godliness.
Five and six are the two types of discontinuous functions in Calculus - fixable, and non-fixable. Fixables are discontinuous due to a point, and non-fixable due to either asymptotes or large gaps. Seven is that I need a haircut really, really badly.
Eight, and by far the funniest thing so far (unless you like human pain and suffering and found #3 particularly funny, you sick bastard) is that this guy put Captain Capitalism and Comrade Communism up as President and Vice President write-in votes in his school's election (this was mentioned awhile ago) but, as the Sept. 4 post reveals, they received at least 50 votes, apparently out of a pool of 200 total. Ahh, funny.
Nine is that I stink to high heaven from all that indoor ping pong. Next time: dodge ball. But until then, a shower. Yes, a shower would be nice.
On the way to Ethics today there were several older men in business suits an expensive cologne handing out small copies of the New Testament to everyone that walked by. The problem was - well, one of the problems, of course - that they put themselves in a line, so that anyone walking from point A of campus to point B, as I was, would encounter each of them, and each of them would attempt to offer you "A copy of God's word, totally free". So after the fourth guy, and there were maybe 10 or 12, I just started ignoring them. Am I going to hell?
I have lots of MP3s, this is true, and lots of it is fairly respectable music. There's some Aphex in there that got me mad props (DrukQs, especially) and some Squarepusher, Belle and Sebastian, the Bitches Brew Sessions from Miles Davis, as well as some bootleg Radiohead. And these are all good, sure, but there's this one track that's gotten more laughs and more attention than any other. And, I know this is going out on a limb, but I think I owe most of my social success here to "Ass n' Titties Remix" by DJ Assault. Ahh. I'll quote some lines from it to put you in the mood.
Stanky ass bitches that need to wash up,
Don't get mad if I don't wanna fuck, you need
Soap, and water;
Soap, and water;
Soap, and water;
Soap, and water.
I hope my parents aren't reading this (if so, ha ha joke!)
I think for too long I've been held in the dark about a very comfortable and awesome thing. You see, I've always been forced to "make my bed" and "tuck in the covers" and junk like that. But this week, I decided, to hell with it! I just piled the top covers and comforter on top of the bed, and every night I sort of make a coccoon in which I sleep. And man, that's way more comfortable that any of this trim and proper shit. I encourage you all to try it.
I would also like to assure Jamey's dad that my fight-club antics are indeed very much real, as I've been uncomfortable sleeping on my left side for awhile because of the bruise and knot I've received on my (checks) third rib from the bottom. Not that it was anything spectacular - it lasted for maybe 4 minutes - but it did indeed happen. Probably this week again, as well. Not much to do around here in the evenings (if you don't like getting drunk with people you barely know [and prefer punching them, it would appear])
I wanted to do many things today, the least of which was working on some Chemistry. It never happened, alas. I wanted to head to Subway at some point, or downtown for some food, and that didn't happen (no big deal, really). So many hopes, so many dreams, crushed by apathy and a general feeling of sleepyness.
It took me 20 minutes to write that paragraph; I was interrupted by a shiny magazine and had to read it (or skim it) front to back before I could continue. I think that's as good a sign as any that I need to head to bed. See you tomorrow.
46262. he has emancipated our funds
