April 27th, 12:34 a.m. 56 Degrees. Welcome to S.V.S.U.

Ice Cube was right. Flub the police. But he was wrong because they do not only hate on teenagers because they are brown. But they also hate on them because some nineteen-year-old Polish kids can not ride bikes properly in poorly lit areas.

Not to shock anyone. But I am that nineteen-year-old Polish kid. And in my defense. It was a new bike. Well not really "new" in the sense of recent. Because the bike is older than disco. But it is new in the sense that this was the first time I have taken it for a spin, or pedal. Or whatever bike quip applies here.

This bike was purchased for me at a garage sale last summer by my mother. In her words over the phone as she bought it, she told me, "It is a little old, but it is a Schwinn. It is a good quality bike."

I found out my mom kind of lied a bit. And by a bit. I mean a lot.

First thing I noticed was that the tires were thinner than Snooki's attention span. Second thing I noticed was that the rear brakes were not fully there. Meaning the brake wire was severed. Winning. Third thing I noticed was that I still have quadriceps like Lou Ferrigno (he's the Hulk).

I thought I was just going to trek around the FYS and chain the bike to a closer bike rack. But I decided, no. I am going to exercise for the first time since the Vietnam War. So before I knew it, I began traversing the campus.

The campus for the most part is adequately lit. Except for the area surrounding the Campus Police station. It's like rain on your wedding day, and good advice that you just didn't take. Isn't it ironic? Don't you think? Look, it is not every day you can slip Alanis Morissette lyrics in a conventional paragraph. This was one of those days. So suck it.

To bring you back to par with this story...

I have no rear brakes.

This Campus Police sidewalk is poorly lit.

And has a broken/ un-even sidewalk.

Yeah you guessed it. Boom goes the dynamite.

I spot the huge disparity of sidewalk about 3 seconds before contact. So I think, "Yeah I can hop this!" Turns out, well no I can't. I was about three feet away from going full on closing scene from E.T. I did the splits in the mud, and I thought I lost my index toe. (By the by, I am barefoot during all of this, because shoes suck).

I then get up to see a Campus Police S.U.V. or Sports Utility Vehicle. With two blue shirts in it or Cops. I figured since they were 20 feet from where I biffed it, they would have at least asked if I was okay.

Instead I saw the Cop riding shotgun tap his partner on the shoulder, and gave him the "Hey look at that jackass" finger point. For the initial thirty seconds of comprehension after that, I realized I was Ice Cube. Like full on.

My bike ride continued though. And then I almost got hit by a car. Given I would have been at fault because I shouted, "Have no brakes. Just turn!" Then something horrible happened. I....

lost all battery power in my iPod.

When that occurred I had just passed two girls walking. And I also shouted out a phrase that rhymes with "small smack pick puck". They thought I directed it at them. Rather, it was directed at my iPod. Cleverly named, "I am Aaron's iPod, and your not" in homage to Chevy Chase. For dying right when I was about to kick it into overdrive with some Stooges and Raw Power.

In pain, I retreated back to the dorm.

But as I made my way back to them dorm, I spotted my intellectual foe Cuppa' Joe.

And I flicked him off.

So if I may, let me end this post with a quote from the Comic Book Guy...

"Worst Greatest bike ride ever!"

And on a lighter note, I found the perfect name for my new-ish bike.

E.T.

It is green too.

So in a way. I did not even end this post in a Comic Book guy quote.

Inception.

Day 14. Song That Makes You Wish You Were A Rock Star

When I was in single digits year wise. All of my first musical memories revolved around the Beatles. Specifically two albums, Help! and A Hard Day's Night. Those two albums were practically my nursery rhymes.

I remember being captivated by all of them. I remember watching music videos of them that my dad recorded on VHS and I was just hooked.

I fancied myself a drummer when I was a young chum, so I connected most with Ringo the most. I remember watching the movie Help! and realizing that he had this huge ring. So I had to go to the party store next door to me and by red ring pops, because they resembled that ring Ringo wore in the movie.

I always used to get my hair cut like them, I used to dress like them, I used to think I was them.

I even remember singing a Beatles song karaoke style at a bar in Frankenmuth when I was like 8. I was hardcore man.

That is why whenever I think of a song that makes me wish I was a rock star, I think back to my favorite Beatles song of my younger days. A song that I have sung and is documented on family film with a plastic guitar. A song that made me truly wish I was a rock star.

Sing along if you know it....

"It's been a Hard Day's Night..."


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cD4TAgdS_Xw

Everything about this song is perfect to a six-year-olds ears.

Music Picks For The Week

For this week I am going to share albums and or songs that I have found on a pretty amazing website called freemusicarchive.org. It is completely legal music from virtually unknown and obscure independent bands and artists. And a music nerds dream location to find random music.

So here are my favorite albums and or songs that I have found on Free Music Archive:

1. Voice Of Christmas Past (23 Original Vintage Recordings From 1898 to 1922)- This might be my favorite album ever. This is definitely a record of dubious origin (boot-leg), but it is amazing. These are pretty much the first Christmas songs ever recorded. And it is a piece of history really. Also there is a version of Noel (Holy Night) by the Venetian Trio that is so peaceful and beautiful
2. The Victor Herbert Orchestra- Edison Cylinders- Another record of dubious origin. This is a phonograph rip and it is great industrial America early 20th century music.
3. Albert Beger- Big Mother- This is like Brian Eno meets jazz. It is a really interesting album. Good easy listening music.
4. Feu Machin- Kojotl Beat- This is a 5:34 predominately guitar-loop led instrumental. No lyrics or words. Just awesome.
5. Holy Coast- Self Titled- This album I found mind blowing. It is folk, it is garage, it is a lot of things. And it blends so well together. I love this album.
6. Kevin Purvis- Ain't No Reason To Write No Letters- Bluesy and folksy album. Really good song writing. Better than a lot of popular music today. And it is a very intimate album.
7. Kingface- Live at Washington DC's 9:30 Club, 1988- This one of the best live garage/punk albums I have ever heard. For real. The lead singer sounds like the guy from Reel Big Fish. This album is just in your face the whole time. You feel the mosh pit.
8. Los Negretes- Los últimos diez minutos  de Maria Duval- This is a Spanish punk band. All of the songs are in Spanish. Everything is Spanish. I can not understand a single word. But I flibbing love it.
9. Means- The Divine Right of Means- This is like a combination of the Hives, White Stripes, and Arctic Monkeys. Really good garage album.
10. The Munitionettes- Fast Jurassic- A poors man Hot Chip. Really cool. Punk/Progressive/Chip/Garage album.
11. Mystic Morison Visions- Fuzzy Set- Like I have stated before, this Russian band is like Rush backwards. It is prog-jazz and it is so refreshing to listen to.
12. Motorama- Alps- This a really well organized modern Indie record. There one song in particular (Compass) that I really love. It gives me a real Joy Division/Cure vibe.
13. Sendelica- The Mellow Mushroom Cosmic Cloud- I.... I do not know how to adequately describe this album.
14. Stems- Stems- Great Indie lyrics. Great garage album. Free Music Archive is the mecca for fantastic garage bands.
15. Stephan Siebert- Stephan Siebert- Let me just leave you with the album description this German jazz/piano player left for his description:

"musik ist eigentlich ein individuelles mittel zur kommunikation von dem, wofür es keine worte mehr gibt es auszudruecken.
gefuehl zu gefuehl … seele zu seele.

direkte beruehrung des wesenhaften."

Which translates to...

"music is actually a means for communication of the individual, for which there are nowords to express everything there is.
a soul feeling to feeling ... soul.
direct contact with the intrinsic."

Best description for music I have ever heard.

Day 13. Song that inspires you

Now, instead of posting these on my facebook, I actually think I am going to post them on here. And tell you a little bit about each song and why I picked that said song. And I think starting it on this day is perfect, because it is about a song that inspires me.

Obviously, Beatles songs pop into my mind first, as I grew up on them because of my dad. But I like to go with a pick that people may not expect. But before I reveal that pick, let me build the suspense for awhile.

What I look for in an inspiring song is very very simple. I search for substance, for a story, for poetry, for emotion, for musicality and for complete and utter simplistic beauty.

That is why my whenever I feel the need to get inspired I listen to a song that fits all of those criteria and maybe 1000 more that I can not think of.

That song is Romeo and Juliet by Dire Straits.

Let's talk shop now. This song is absolute beauty and perfection. Like first crush and high school beauty and perfection.

The song is about that one love story written by that one Bill guy. And ever since then, that concept of boy loves girl but they can never be together has been the used as the plot line in every romantic comedy every which way a thousand times ever.

But this song is more than that. So much more than that.

The first time I heard this song was in the movie Empire Records. I actually had to pause the credits to see what the name of the song and band was. I saw Dire Straits and I knew that name sound familiar. And I remembered that my dad had a Dire Straits greatest hits CD. So I looked at the track listings on the CD and saw that Romeo and Juliet was on there and the rest was history.

But I really find this song inspiring, because when I write it is hard to be original. And when I am in a rut I listen to this song and realize originality can come from the most un-original places. And that makes writing ten times easier.

Also this song  has one of the best lyrics ever:

When you can fall for chains of silver, 
You can fall for chains of gold,
You can fall for pretty strangers 
And the promises they hold.
You promised me everything, you promised me thick and thin, yeah!
Now you just say, "Oh Romeo? Yeah, you know I used to have a scene with him".



Absolute beauty.


Here are three links to this song. In my order of favorite versions. First there a Marl Knopfler (lead singer of Dire Straits) solo version with a string quartet intro. And it is absolutely lovely. And emotional. Second, is the original. And third, is a cover the Killers did of the song. It is quite possibly the best cover I have ever heard.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o7GJgncybV8&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mxfjSnMN88U

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=McnTmRqNzBs

Inspiration at its finest.

My First Attempt At Writing Fiction

     This is a short story that I had to do for creative writing. It is my first legitimate attempt at fiction. And this is by no means a final draft. This story is definitely in the tweaking stages, and if it was not for Caroline this story would still be without a title. I just added the part about the polaroid of her on the cork board today. I still feel that this is one and a half scenes away from being a decent story. So tell me what you think...

Light My Fire

The sun was sinking into the ocean in front of him. He gazed out onto the sea, absorbing its beauty and its simplicity. He began to notice things he never did before. He saw how the seagulls scoured the grainy sand, searching for the smallest particles of food left behind from the beach-goers, like a bum rummages through trash searching for a remotely edible object to sooth their hungry stomachs. He noticed how the waves chased after each other, almost in taunting fashion. Then he cynically judged the waves as if they were human. He thought to himself, “What’s the point, they are all just going to crash and die when they hit the beach shore.”

He continued to fall deeper into hypnosis as he stared out onto the cascading whit caps. Noticing and judging the most insignificant things that his eyes wandered over to. He subconsciously knew what he was doing though. He knew that he was only doing this so he did not have to look down at the disappointment in front of him on his computer screen.

Then he began forcing it, he began to asphyxiate his mind on anything he could. The dirty dishes in the sink, the old greasy pizza boxes that littered the living room floor, the papers and magazines that were stacked on top of each other doing there best imitation of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Then he looked at the barren shelves that those same magazines where leaning against. He began wondering why he never got around to organizing them. It was at that point he realized the reason why he never got around to filing all those things, was the same reason why his clothes had began stockpiling in his bedroom, and it was the same reason why he never threw away that picture of her, that was taped to the cork board next to his desk.

It was his favorite picture of her, because it was silent. In that black and white Polaroid all he was reminded of was her simplistic beauty, and how she resembled an innocent and naive actress from the 1930’s. He noticed every little crevasse of her beauty. But the more he examined it, the more emotion it got. He began to hear her voice speaking to him, ridiculing him. He heard her vindictive voice calling him unintelligent, and un-talented. He was reminded of all her critiques and “constructive criticism” which was just her excuse of belittling his work.

Then as all his negative memories were rushing in, he looked into her eyes. Those radiant eyes that made him fall in love with her the instant he saw her. And then the picture became silent again. And once again she was beautiful.

Before he let the pain of that night re-enter his mind, he finally decided to look at the computer screen in front of him. He hoped that through some act of divine intervention there would a magnificent story in front of him. He hoped it was the magnum opus he had always searched to create.

He closed his eyes and lowered his head toward the screen. He could not bare the suspense. He found himself slowly opening one eye, like a child does when they are getting a surprise. Then finally he opened both of his eyes as wide as he could.

He glared at the computer screen; he did not see a work of art. He did not see a literary masterpiece that his editor could proclaim as genius. All he saw was a small black vertical line blinking on a white blank page. There it was appearing and vanishing, reminding him that he had yet to write a single word. That blinking line just stood there, solitary and alone just like him.

*****

            As he sat at the bar, he realized that this was the change of scenery he needed. He no longer felt a slave shackled to his desk chair. He was no longer toppled with stress; he was finally able to breathe. Something he felt he had not been able to do for hours.

            He was no longer alone; he was surrounded by drunken baboons, and recluses just like him. They were all there to share each others misery. But the men used the ball game and the women used the hope of finding Mr. Right as excuses to cover up their insecurities and reasons why they were truly there.

            A handful of women approached him throughout the night. But he dispelled and rejected their attempts of compassion. He judged them and he scanned them up and down with his eyes. None of them looked like her, none them could even hold a candle in comparison. He thought as he looked them over.

So he just sat there on a torn up pleather bar stool, entrenched in a conversation with his closest friend. Someone who took away his pain someone who helped him forget someone who made things better. In his mind his glass of Jack Daniels could do those things better than anyone at that bar. Hell, better than anyone in the world.

As he started filling his body with liquid courage, he glanced over to the far side of the bar. There sat a beautiful brunette, with skin smoother than marble counter tops, and eyes as piercing as the dagger that killed Juliet.

He was fascinated by her and he could not get enough of her. Her perfume seemed to travel through the bar and politely find its destination right under his nose. And in those moments that scent was more intoxicating than whatever concoction he had put in his body that night.

She reminded him of her.

He knew that scent was all too familiar, and that those eyes had inter-locked with his before. At that moment the heartbreak had reappeared in him. He felt the helplessness as she left him. He felt like a million broken pieces of a man he once knew. A man who people once called brilliant, a man a woman once loved.

He was no longer any of these in his mind. He felt as if he was the living personification of the main character in The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. He was not suitable for such a woman. The distance between them in bar stools might as well have been eternities. As there was no chance that he would approach that woman at the bar, for he already knew how that tragedy would end, in his inadequate heart breaking once again.

So he just sat there now in a nervous sweat. Playing devils advocate to his emotions.

“Do I send her a drink?” He thought.

“Or do I approach her?” He contemplated further.

He had no mirror to look into to simulate his approach. He only had a small notebook and pen, in the breast pocket of his sports coat. He fumbled for it, and pulled it out. He flipped through the already occupied pages. Some of which were poems, others ideas for his work that either he or his editor deemed “rubbish.” Finally, he found a blank page on which to write.

He scribbled down everything that came to mind, all the cliché pick-up lines, all the faint attempts at humor, all of the elaborate back stories he could think of to make her want him. After the brainstorming process subsided, he looked over his notes like a student cramming for a test. He noticed he had not written down anything helpful. All he managed to compose was a short poem that he felt captured him in that exact moment.

The anxiety builds when I see your face,

My heart races at the most uncontrollable pace.

My mind goes blank and my vision goes white,

Why must this happen when you are in my sight?

Is it the fear of rejection, or the inevitable hurt?

Either way, I just stay in the background kicking the dirt.

And when I finally find the most perfect words to say,

I choke and write it down and hope I have the courage for another day.

            He looked it over and thought, “What good is this? This will not impress her.” He did not think that those words were good enough for her. He felt he needed something that would make her fall in love with him instantly, something to fill her eyes with passion and her heart with lust. He needed a series of words that would by-pass all of the useless banter between them, and place them intertwined with each other as they made love. To him those words would do no such thing.

            But, those were the only words he had come up with, they were the only words he had. It was either send them over to her in hopes she might look them over and shoot him a glance from across the bar.  Or even walk over and say that the poem was “cute”. But he did not want cute, he wanted a woman suitable enough to finally make him forget about her.

            So after a couple more glasses of Jack, he signaled over the bartender.

He brought him in close, and he exuded the copious amounts of whiskey he consumed throughout the night in every pore of his skin. 

“I want you to give this to the lovely brunette at the end of the bar.” He said soberly to the bartender.

The bartender seemed confused. He looked around quizzically as he was cleaning a tall beer glass.

“What woman?” the bartender asked.

“That woman over there!” He violently pointed with each word. He could not understand why the bartender could not comprehend such a simple request or also be struck by her beauty.

The bartender then studied him over.

“What time do you think it is?” The bartender asked.

He was taken back by the bartender’s question. Not because of its profound nature, but because of its sheer stupidity.

“I’d say no later than one in the morning.” He replied.

Then the bartender braced both his arms on the bar and hung his head down. He had dealt with these types of people before. The ones who think a night of debauchery can solve all of life’s problems. And that knocking down hard whiskey was the best method of soothing ones soul.

“Six, it is six in the morning.”

The bartender said pointing at the clock after every word.

That made no sense to him. He could not grasp how he had been there for so long. Then after that finally sunk in, he realized there was no such girl at the end of the bar. It was just his drunken imagination. He became ill to the thought of his mind tricking him into believing there was even the slightest chance of someone actually being able to replace her.

*****

As he walked up the steps of his front porch, the sun was rising. The same sun that he saw step-by-step fade into the night hours before. He felt himself sobering up and capable of anything he could put his mind to.

This was a far cry from the man he knew the day before.

He finally had the courage to do what had been on his mind for what seemed like months since she had left him. He finally was going to let her go. He went through the house grabbing anything that reminded him of her and put in a trash can. He then lit a match and set fire to it.

He then walked up to his room. He put on his favorite record. He pulled up a chair, took of his belt and hung himself.

His body faced the window by his desk that had helped him drift off before.

On that desk sat his computer with the document from the night before open, and the cursor flickering from white to black.

And as the flames overtook his house he had finally burned the last thing that reminded him of her.

Full On Capuano

Today in my creative writing class, I was able to say something I have not been able to say for awhile. And it felt amazing. That phrase was, "I just pulled a full on Capuano when I was writing this."


Now to rewind the clock six years and to how this phrase came to be. This glorious phrase was born in the hallways of Harper Woods Notre Dame High School. There was a scholastic competition amongst many catholic grade schools. Every competition was divided up by subject and each individual person only competed in one subject (English, Math, Music, etc.)


And SIJ went all out to represent themselves in the English./Writing competition. It was Sam Eovaldi, John Capuano, and Me.


We had a prompt to write about. And that prompt was "Decisions, What was the toughest decision you have had to make so far in your life?"


I wrote about baseball, I forgot what Sam wrote about, but John unleashed a great Capuanoism when I asked him what he wrote about. And to this day I remember his response verbatim.


"I could think of a tough decision I have had to make, so I wrote about how the toughest decision I had to make was deciding what to write about for my toughest decision."


When he said that I literally thought it was the most genius thing I had ever heard in my life. I also laughed my ass off.


Sadly, Cappy did not win. 


He really should have though.


And funny John Capuano moments are like White Castle burgers. You just can not have one.


So I will share a few other moments in which John Capuano made me laugh to the point of tears.


Here are my top three Capuano moments:


3.) One time during SIJ lunch Bill was making note of the attractiveness of John's sister. John asked him to stop. Bill did not. John then lunged like a fricking Gazelle over a lunch table and tackled Bill demanded he shut up.


2.) At I think it was Jackie's like 13th Birthday party, there was a bunch of people out in the backyard around the bonfire. And John was fresh off of reading the Da Vinci Code and he would not stop talking about church and government conspiracies. And the Discovery Channel.


1.) In 9th grade I got in a "tift" with some people from Lakeview. Well, one person in particular then it morphed into "my friends" vs. "them" I was still at De La Salle, and my friend Bill wanted to go to the Lakeview football game one week after I got in a fight with one of the guys. The one thing I told him was, "If someone says your name, do not even acknowledge them." Sure as shit the first thing Bill does when he hears his name is turn around and go, "Huh!" 


After that it was on so to speak. We bailed quick. And we comically chased. And the whole entire time this was happening Capuano was on the phone with his sister and she was telling him that everyone in the stands could see us running away. To which John said, "Are you serious! I can not go to school on Monday now! This is so fucking embarassing, I am going to get so much shit for this."


This is why I miss Johnny Boy.


And I was proud I got to pull a full on Capuano in his honor today.


But nobody can do them like John.

Music I Am Diggin'

You know, I think I am going to make this a weekly thing. Every Sunday I shall post 10-15 songs and or albums that I have been listening to in heavy rotation. And like last week I shall post one cheese-tastic '80s video that I have come across in the past seven days.

So here is the list for this week.

1. R.E.M- Not necessarily just one album of theirs. But pretty much everything they have done. If you have heard their new album, go out of your way to listen to it.
2. Sheryl Crow- Tuesday Night Music Club- No, I am not kidding. This is a really good '90s pop album. And you can make fun of me for saying that. But when you are driving and "All I Wanna Do" comes on you know you are singing that chorus.
3. The Zombies- Odessey and Oracle- Kind of only known for only having "Time of the Season" on it. Which is kind of a shame, because this whole album is just groovy.
4. The Strokes- Under The Cover of Darkness- To be honest, I am not huge fan of their new album. But this song is just good old Strokes at their finest.
5. The Red Hook Gamblers- The are an underground Big Band... band. That alone should make you love them or at least look them up.
6. The Polka Floyd Show- Live!!! At The Ohio Theatre- It is Polka. It is Pink Floyd. It is the greatest thing you will ever here in your lifetime. And the lead singer in a Pirate. Which on paper seems odd, but when you look at the grand scheme of things it makes sense. You just can not make these types of things up. Just let the youtube link speak for itself: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hSvrIZelXG0&feature=related
7. Passion Pit- Manners- To re-hatch a former facebook status I posted, "Passion Pit is the bee's knees. That Is All Carry On."
8. Foo Fighters- Wasting Light- I have had this album for 8 days. I have already listened to it (in its entirety) 14 times. And I have listened to "Bridge Burning" 22 times. Yeah.
9. The Cool Devices- EP- They are the offspring of a romantic relationship between R.E.M. and the Hives.
10. Bad Brains- Bad Brains- Spun this on vinyl on Monday. My word. My Word.
11. Iggy and The Stooges- I am a firm believer that if you do not listen to at least one Stooges song per week, then that week did not exist.
12. Black Flag- Damaged- Right after I listen to Bad Brains I automatically have to listened to Henry Rollins just scream at me. Weird? Possibly. Greatest thing to happen since sliced bread? Well yeah.
13. Half Japanese- Put Some Sugar On It- Every time I listen to them I do not want the songs to end.
14. Polaris- Music From The Adventures Of Pete & Pete- Okay, this has to be considered one of the best albums of the 1990's. I am serious as a heart attack. This album is so flib flabbing good. "Hey Sandy" is more 1990's than the Chicago Bulls. Yeah I went there.
15. Third Eye Blind- Third Eye Blind- Another ridiculously under rated and under appreciated album. Shame on people for not liking this album more.

And now for the cheesy '80s video..... Drum roll..............

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LatorN4P9aA

Journey- Separate Ways (Worlds Apart) aka: SOO '80s.

1,000 Views

Just yesterday I cracked the 1,000 views milestone after 45 days of blogging,

And I would like to thank everyone who reads this blog for that. I do not how 1,000 views is even possible as my only modes of P.R. are my posts on Facebook and Twitter and even those have a little reach.

Nevertheless, I have gotten 60 plus international views. Spanning from quite literally around the world. The most views from those international countries have been China (18), Singapore (12), and Hungary (10).

Again, how that is possible I have not clue. But either way I am grateful and humble for that.

So to everyone who reads this hunk of junk, I thank you.

The Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory Complex

Philosophy is easy. Philosophy is so easy that GEICO is could make a commercial about how a caveman could do it. The only problem is philosophy is annoying. It is really, really annoying.

 Philosophy is like NASCAR it just goes in circles over and over again, but sometimes there is a crash (or intellectual breakthrough in terms of philosophical tifting) and it gets really exciting for awhile. But then a caution flag comes out (or stupid people talking stupid) and then it is back to the talking in circles.

As I have mentioned before in a previous blog post (What Is Philosophy).... Oh, god I just plugged my own blog in my blog. I feel dirt or I might have glitched the Matrix. Either way, I mentioned before the day-to-day skeleton  of my class. But that was so last month.

We are much more intellectual now, instead of talking about being like bats or pigs, we are getting into the what I like to call The "G" Phase. A.k.a.: The God Phase.

And I have to say, I am kind of disappointed. The intellectual jabber-jawing has been par at best. And the one person who could really be the L.V.P.......Y.S.V.E.P (Least Valuable Philosopher...... Yet Still Very Entertaining Person) has not talked at all the past few classes. She has just fiddled about on her Mac Book.

She could be the key to Pandora's box of discussion. But she does not talk. Such a bummer. All I am left with is "Cup of Joe" to talk for extended amounts of time, just so he can hear his voice and feel smart. And then inevitably contradict himself.

For example we talked about war. And if it was just. The short answer to that question is, NO. His answer was this 15 minute incoherent idea orgy, to which he claimed was the only just war in the history of ever. Then my professor called him on that statement. My professor said, "So you think the first crusade was just for BOTH sides?" Cup of Joe then said, "Well, no. So I believe there is not such thing as just war." He got served.

Since then though he has not stopped, he is still his same old self.


Sometimes I participate in class. I say a witty thing or two, and lighten the mood. I have to so, because if I did not I would be forced to challenge Cup of Joe to a duel. Thankfully, my friend Will in the class and sits next to me and pretty much says what I am thinking. If it was not for him, fisticuffs would be a flying.


And boy did the fisticuffs almost come a flying yesterday.


We were discussing a passage called Why Does God Let People Suffer? And our discussion centralized on the authors ideas of what it would take to make a perfect universe. And from the full pot of anger that was brewing in my body while class discussion was going on, I established my first philosophical thesis if you will. Entitled: The Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory Complex.


Now this is pretty much the idea that each person has their own idea of a perfect universe. Why did I call it The Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory Complex? Well, because a diabetic would obviously not describe Willy Wonka's Factory as their perfect universe. A seven-year-old however would potentially.


Therefore I established that there is no such thing as a perfect universe. This co-insides with my second Philosophical idea. The Tomato/Tomatoe. Meaning perfect to one person is not perfect to another. Which in my mind is completely true.


So even even though it is a grammatical "boo-boo" the forefathers got it right with the Constitution by wanting to establish a "more perfect union" because, well there is no such thing as truly "perfect. A 4.0 GPA is not a perfect GPA because you do not necessarily need all 100 percents in order to have a 4.0. And in baseball a "Perfect Game" is not really a perfect game, because a pitcher may through not through a strike, therefore in real nit-picky sense he was not perfect.


I hope all of this makes sense. Because I am ready to pack everything up and travel the world as a roaming philosophy gypsy. But that all just depends if college classes can have hour long not discussions on my work. That would be my real muse for continuing this field of work. I just do not how it would turn out though.


Because after all, I am not perfect.

Wake Up In The Morning Feeling Like P Diddy

PBS has to thank viewers like you in order for them to put on their programs. And I have to thank dorm suite mates like mine for giving me so much material to write about on a day to day basis.

And much like any cast of characters on a show their is always that one person who outshines all of the counterparts. Now whether they do this by good or bad things is a whole different story. I mean you can dissect any cast ever. And there will be that one little nugget deserving of a spin-off all their own.

(Even with all that taken into consideration, NBC why was Joey created?)

And if there were one person in our dorm that I would pay to see every week on television it would be the one, the only, Tony.

I mean even his name alone could be the title of a show.

The show could be a sitcom, it could be a reality show, it could be a satire, it could even be filmed in front of a live audience. Either way it has to be made.

That is why I am writing this post. In hopes that an executive from NBC, ABC, CBS or FOX. (Forget the latter one.) So NBC, ABC, CBS, or Telemundo is reading this in search for a new show in the fall.

Well here is your show.

Picture this a 19 year old college student who "has been fighting his whole life man" and is not "afraid to through paper down" in fisticuffs combat. Not only that but he is on a quest to find his true identity. As he is torn between pursuing the life as a caucasian or striving for social acceptance amongst African-Americans. 

You can join him on his journey as he gets "tatted" and‎ is "chillin outside with my bros in a beater and shorts."

And learn of his inner struggles as he dreams, "once summer comes, im gunna be tatted more. Beater, snapback, jordan flip flops and khaki shorts." And how he just really just "wants to be goin to that wiz and mac concert."

But what about a catchphrase?

Audiences will be rolling on the ground as he shouts, "Eyyy Yo Trint!" Akin to Clark Grisworld shouting, "Rusty!" WHEN THEY ARE RIGHT NEXT TO THEM.

You can take a side-seat right next to him as he sits on the couch and decides which song he wants to play 25 seconds of, and join him as he struggles to comprehend occupancy of bathrooms.

Now, the only tough part would be the casting. That is if you choose to take the no-reality route, but reality T.V. is selling like hot cakes these days. And sitcoms are selling whatever the opposite of that is.

But if you absolutely had to cast someone to play the role in a sitcom you would need someone to fit these requirements:

• Must have multiple regrettable tattoos
• Must have either "a beater" or "v-neck" on at all times
• Must wear sweatpants and or shorts so far below the Mason-Dixon line that it does not even make sense for them to be on
• Must snore like a bear having sex with a wood-chipper
• Must wear hats of sports teams he does not even know at precarious angles on their head
• Must not know english
• Must "never sleep ever man"
• Must carry backpack even though they never go to class

It is a sure fire hit dawg.

I can already see it now.... coming this fall to NBC, It's a bird, it's a plane, No! It's Tony!

Dawg.

Oh! The Things You Will Post On Frank's Facebook Wall...

There are few things I pride myself in, useless knowledge, memorization of all 50 state capitals, my record collection and family tradition. But there is one thing above all those that I really take pride in. And that is posting the most obscenely random jibbery-joo and my friend Frank's wall.

The logic behind the posts involve no logic at all, and I more or less post random stuff because Francois has just the right amount of no sense of humor.

I even went as far as to post a Facebook event that encouraged other friends to post random stuff on his wall. He got over 1200 notifications that day. Success.

Now as I look back on all the stuff I posted on Frank's wall, I feel as if I want to publish them as a coffee book or children's story entitled "Oh The Things You Will Post On Frank's Facebook Wall"

And here would be just a few of those selections:

Frank do who know where Phil got his PhD?


Frank do you want to go to Kokomo... Because you could get there fast and then take it slow. That is if that's where you want to go.


Frank do you think that bears ask other bears, "Do people piss in toilets?" when there is an obvious answer to the said question?


Frank is it legistically possible for ghosts to play tag?


Frank do blind people play charades?


Frank why in the fuck did Star Wars start backwards?


Frank does Kobe Bryant shout out Kobe when he throws away paper at the office?


Frank do you think Santa has to write a note to himself if he wants something for Christmas, better yet Frank, what if he really wanted a big screen T.V. or a Wii Fit, so he writes the note to himself and then he finds out he is on the naughty list. Frank if Santa Claus is on the naughty list what kind of example is that for Osama Bin Laden?


Frank do you think the game of tick-tack-toe would have been as popular if you had to play with bear traps, ill-tempered King Cobras... and your left foot?


Frank I just heard the funniest joke... Alright let's see if I can say this one right. Ok so there is a bar and then a bear comes in and says to the bartender, "Hey can I have a beer?" And the bartender says, "Holy shit BEAR RUN RUN WHO WOULD LET A BEAR IN A BAR THE WHOLE CONCEPT OF THE JOKE IS COMPLETELY UNREALISTIC!" Needless to say the bear got angry and mauled and killed errr one. Makes you think twice about peeing in the shower eh Frank... Because that same bear could be there I swear.


Franklin "Jazzy Tambourine McGreen" Berardi... If that is even your real nickname. I played racquetball with a guy wearing sunglasses the other day. I would serve the ball, but he would not swing his racquet. So I said to the fellow, "Are you going to hit the ball back?" And the man in sunglasses replied, "I do not know where I am, I am blind." It was at that moment that I realized that the man did not have a racquet or proper racquet ball apperal (Mr. T T-shirt, tropical bathing suit, and the will power to win.) and it dawned on me that this man was blind. I just thought he was an asshole for wearing his sunglasses indoors. Bono?


Frank one day I was talking to a cat. He was pretty adamant that he wanted to be in a fish bowl. I said to him, "For the sake of a Mike Myers movie, you should live in a hat." Needless to say countless Dr. Seuss books and some odd Mike Myers movies later I realized that damn cat took my idea. Do not even get me started on Shawshank Redemption.


Frank-tastic I met a girl who's name was Unique. Turns out she was just like any person ever. She did not have wings, or speak Pig Latin just because she could. I was a tad let down. Her last name was Yetbland though, so it made sense. I actually thought her whole name being a play on words was pretty unique. Holy shit. I get it now.


Frank I tried to join a black fraternity, they said I was white, I shouted out Tupac, Two days later I got inducted. Thug Life.


Frank how do deaf people know if they got a BINGO?


Frank the chicken crossed the road beacause he got bad directions from the hen.


Frank, If a polar can not decide if he is a Grizzly bear or a polar bear is he considered a Bi-Polar Bear?


Frank, Alright Frank there is a priest, a prostitute, and Adam West at a bar. I do not know how the joke ends. But, I know they were there.


Frank, I went to the car dealership and asked the salesman for a Harrison Ford or a Chevy Chase. He said that they were not cars, but they were fine actors. I was under the assumption that they were cars.


Frank, I was standing in front of a fire exit and then the fire exit caught on fire. This is why they should have a "Not On Fire Exit" door.


Frank, I am going to name my cat Woof.


FRAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNK, Is it appropriate to yell movie in a crowded firehouse?


Pandas like bamboo not rice Frank... I mean honestly, how would they cook it?


Frank, I drew a picture of a tree on my arms and now the leaves are falling off because it is too cold out, should I be concerned?


I definitely think I could this published or use it as a stand up routine. 


Where would my life be without Frank's Facebook wall?

Sports Video Gaming 101

Before I delve into my blog post let me float you this link for you to watch, so you can kind of feel the tone that I am taking this post in.

http://youtu.be/SjaPlwR-kmY

Okay, now after viewing that you may be thinking WOW. But the crazy thing is, he is a minority. His obsession with wrestling is not even shocking. Why do I make such a claim? Because I have seen people play sports video games.

I play sports video games. I admit that, I am able to separate not real Paul Pierce missing a lay-up from the real Paul Pierce. Sadly, some people can not do that though. The line of virtual reality to actual reality is so blurred that they do not realize the reason why they got sacked in Madden was because they did not hit the button to throw the pass.

The avid sports video gamer often utters such phrases as, "Ohhhhhhhhh pick that off!" "How did he miss that!" "Throw the ball!" "Shoot it!"

And they never utter such phrases as, "Ohhhhh that virtual player that I am controlling did not do the corresponding action that I forget to make them do!" or "Man, I am just not good at this game."

It is never the fault of said person with the control. If they are playing Madden and "Tom Brady" "throws" an interception. Well, quite simply he will not be receiving a Christmas card, because he just cost that person the game. They truly feel that way.

It never has to do with their lack of skill or pushing of the wrong button.

Is it easy for a person to get carried away? Well, yeah of course.

But there is such thing as "too much."

This has been presented to me through my college suite mates.

When they play Madden/NBA 2k11. They really think that are in the game. They think they are the game.

I do not get how they can so disillusioned between not real and real. Like when I play Rock Band, I just play Rock Band. Afterwords I do not pencil in plans for a 32 city stadium tour. I accept it for what it is, a game.

With them, no.

If they loose, well then LeBron deserves to die, because he missed that free throw in the third quarter. And Dwayne Wade shot it instead of passing it, and Chris Bosh just stood there not being important... Okay that last one is too realistic.

And who is to blame for this?

I blame the parents. I am kidding. I do not blame the parents.

I blame the big red truck complex. You know the one where they say men with tiny baby makers compensate for the tally whacker by driving a big truck.

I really feel people can apply this to video games. The people who get obnoxiously into are people who are compensating for genuine lack of skill in that sport.

Holy crap. I just became a philosopher.

If you are an avid sports video gamer and you are reading this, you are probably stewing and waiting to ask me the question of, "Well, you said you played sports games, you mean to tell me you do not get out of hand?"

Not really, sometimes I do exclaim a few obscenities. Sometimes I go 1990's and exalt an "In yo face!" But in the grand scheme of things I play video games because:

1.) I am a useless sports knowledge nerd. I play old sports video games. The earliest sports video game I personally own in MLB 2k7.
2.) I know I am a better General Manager than half of the GM's currently in sports. I like to waste my Summer days negotiating not real contracts with a team I do not actually manage, because again I am a sports nerd.

The only time that I got truly out of hand in a sports game, was in 2006. It was at Bill Coole's annual Birthday sleep over. Where we would play NCAA/NHL video games all night and morn. Bill always picked Texas, because they had Vince Young. ALL BILL DID was run the option. AND I COULD NOT STOP HIM. But then one game, that night of his sleep over I finally beat him, I picked Michigan State and I had a field day on him. And I got into it. Really into it.

But I still knew that it was a game.

For other people though, that is still a different story.

Well because, It's still real to them dammit!

If You Don't Have An iPhone...

Just something I have to get of my chest on this beautiful Michigan morn...

So by now you have probably seen Apple's new commercial for the iPhone. And apparently if you do not have an iPhone, then well, you just do not have an iPhone.

Well, yeah.

If you do not have a creative marketing campaign, then well, you just do not have a creative marketing campaign.

This is a step up though from the outrageously annoying piano loop of an iPad commercial. Remember that? Good lord.

You would think that a company that pretty much rules the world could have more creative commercials/tag-lines.

Their products are virtually a mechanical pocket knife. You just can not have an iPod that plays music. That is so 2002. You have to have an iPod that can play movies that kill your battery, have apps and games, and internet, and Youtube, and weather updates, a portable bathroom, a companion, a friend who is all ears, a pillow if you are camping in a forest, a race car, and the solution to the Cuban Missile Crisis.

Apple loves to make all of their products completely unnecessary. Who honestly needs a phone to be a baby robot?

A phone is a phone is a phone. Not a portable computer.

Which leads me to my next point...

Robot mutation/invasion/conquering the human race.

Now we made this bed. Well, actually Apple did.

That one guy who while in the brainstorming meeting amongst the Apple brass suggested that maybe the thing that a phone, A PHONE was missing was the fact that it was not also an electric razor.

Call me a senile old-man, but all of this technology is getting ridiculous.

We can not just settle for what we have, everything has to be bigger, better, faster, stronger.

And when the robots we demanded rebel against us and enslave us, we will have no one to blame except ourselves. Especially for that one time in 2006 when we said, "Hey you know that device that was made to hold and play my MUSICAL catalog. Yeah, I want it to harvest my corn crop for me now... And be able to play Little Fockers while it harvests my crops."

Plus, who knows how long Will Smith will be able to save us from robotic invasion. What does that have do with anything? Well, pretty much any robotic rebellion movie involved Big Willie as the robot warrior so to speak. This is a similar complex to the apocalypse and Bruce Willis. If an asteroid is going to crash into the Earth, and NASA can not depend on Bruce to assemble a team of misfit oil-drillers. We are screwed into a board.

So yeah Apple, I do not have iPhone, therefore well, I just do not have an iPhone.

I also have an extra 400 dollars in my pocket per month.

And a phone that is a phone.

Winning.

My Favorite Songs At The Moment

Someone recently asked what kind of music I am into, and I said just about everything. Then they asked what my top ten favorite songs were. Now, that was just cruel and unusual punishment to put my mind through. To be honest I have like a top three of all-time favorite songs. (Whiter Shade of Pale, God Only Knows, Day In the Life) and Waterloo Sunset by the Kinks and the Night They Drove Ole Dixie Down by the Band are cementing there way into the four and five slots. And come to think of it Father and Son by Cat Stevens. Besides those six, the other four songs usually change.

I more or less concentrate on my top ten at the moment per say when people ask me. Because to try to scour my mind and what is now becoming a black abyss of music in my iTunes library, it is literally impossible. But to tell you ten albums or songs that have been in heavy rotation lately that is another thing. A much less tedious thing.

So for those curious these are ten songs and or albums that have been accompanied by my headphones and attentive mind recently... Actually let's make it fifteen:

(In no particular order)

• Wasting Light- Foo Fighters~ As I have said before this album makes Jesus want to take his own name in vain.
• Kodachrome- Paul Simon~ Such a catchy/contagious up-beat stay in your mind for two weeks song.
• Tragic Kingdom- No Doubt~ I fell in love with the band (and Gwen Stefani) all over when I played this last week. Every song on this album is great.
• Apache Dropout- Apache Dropout~ By far one of the best Lo-Fi/Garage-ish album I have potentially ever heard.
• Wild Night- Van Morisson~ A day without Van is like a day without going to the bathroom, it is just painful.
• Menagerie- Nous Non Plus~ Everything is French and awesome. This is classified under "Perks of being a music director for a radio station."
• Go All The Way- The Raspberries~ Willing to argue this as one of the best singles of ever. A little dramatic sure, but at the same time a little true.
• Kick Out The Jams- The Motor City Five (MC5)~ Just sexual. Plain and simple. Top to bottom an immortal record.
• T.S.O.P. (The Sound of Philadelphia)- MFSB ft. The Three Degrees~ This was the Soul Train theme. And I have been obsessed with everything Soul Train and Don Cornelius lately.
• Everyone Knows This Is Nowhere- Neil Young with Crazy Horse~ I am going to make the outrageous claim that I would take this over Harvest any day.
• Vices & Virtues- Panic! At The Disco~ Extremely impressed with this album. And I simply adore the song Always. That song is the kind of song people get married to.
• The Wind- Warren Zevon~ For all intensive purposes the saddest album I have ever heard. And Keep Me In Your Heart is the most emotional song I have ever, and once you learn of Warren Zevon's circumstances you will listen to that song and just cry.
• Kinks Are The Village Green Preservation Society- The Kinks~ The most underrated album/band ever. Please go out of your way to listen to this album.
• St. Elsewhere- Gnarls Barkley~ I love how everyone has forgotten this existed. This had Cee Lo before he was all popular. Like, this is a really, really, really good album.
• 2+2=?- Bob Seger System~ On the short-list of truly great Anti-War songs. And truly great songs period.

And as for my favorite musical video at the moment:

• Huey Lewis and the News- Do You Believe In Love~ Classic '80s vid. Six dudes harmonizing in a bed while a woman sleeps, and a saxophone pushing a guitarist out of the way for a sax solo. As Don King would say, "Only in America."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BzIbyDbmsyg

So there you go, hopefully I have turned you onto some groovy stuff. Or reminded you of some greatness that you may have forgotten about.