Wit & Whim

I had visions for this morning, most of them included me sitting and drinking coffee in a comfy chair and collecting much needed adipose tissue. But, to paraphrase the good people at Despair, There is nothing the world likes so well as the taste of really sweet dreams. At first the ungodly "waw waw waw" was either an alarm clock, or perhaps some variety of wounded poultry. I had no such luck. It was Janeane, who is infinitely harder to silence than an alarm clock, or--Iimagine--any specimen of wounded poultry. After my ears adjusted enough to resolve the squawking into a message, I realized that she expected me to get up. Alright, it could be worse...a lot worse. She started telling me something about our mission, a narrow and rapidly closing window of opportunity, of which we needed to take advantage. There was to be no time for showers or coffee. I grabbed the first three clothing items that came to hand, and also the first hat that was not a baseball cap. Upon Janeane see

Imagine you walk into a room. Imagine that, having walked into this room, your first thought is "where was the net?" That is right, you just found yourself in the middle of the 1990s...but wait; that cannot be right. The young gentleman over there looks just like one of the people from class...history class!!! As I am walking over to see why wardrobe sent him in skinny jeans, I see a group of individuals that I know to be incapable of comprehending history, and who would have no hope of navigating it. I breathed a minor sigh of relief. Something weird was going on, but at least I was in the right time. The room was crowded and more people pressed in with every second. Tempers were already flaring at the lack of seating, which made me glad to find a comfortable seated in the second row. Still trying to understand what was going on, I turned to the wise old crones next to me to see if they had any valuable information. They chatted with me rather amiably and explained that teac

I'm posting a brief, informal, report that was commissioned by my mostest favouritest professor, Elliot Bartky, who I found out today is also revered by the staff at the Barnes & Noble at the mall. Anyway. Here are my thoughts on the proceedings, and the ideas--and lack thereof--bandied about. On Wednesday I had my first experience with a town hall meeting. The primary topic of this meeting, as my reader knows, was education; more specifically, it was about a bill that is being introduced in the Indiana House of Representatives that is aimed at the promotion of charter schools and alternatives to the public schools. Brian Bosma, the Speaker of the Indiana house, had the daunting task of the apology of said bill before a passel of agitated school teachers. His opening remarks were an attempt to lend some perspective to the debate. We are in the midst of a fiscal crisis and there will be no increases in spending. The challenge is to improve education without spending mo

Our house has ghosts. This is the only possible explanation for the many odd noises that pervade our house at night. At least once a week I wake to the sound of shouts and other loud semi-human noises, when I raise myself up on my elbows, the voices fall silent. But, clever ghosts that they are, they use the voice--and at times the body--of my beloved brother Jonathan to convey their messages from the beyond. Being wide awake at this point, I start to make my way to the stairs...but wait, what was that?! "Aha," I say to myself, "a Sus Scrofa Domestica has found its way into my beloved sister's room!" I haste me down the hall to make bacon of the interloper before it has time to begin gobbling fripperies. But what is this? It has escaped somehow! I crane my head around the door, but there is none but the sister to be found. At this point I know something is amuck. I am about to turn to go back to the stairs, when such ferocious snarling as no man has ever heard b

My beloved and unceasingly pestilential readers have clearly noticed that my proofreading habits have been pretty abysmal of late. It was with that in mind that I picked up Fumble Rules by William Safire. While normally I would have carried this book around for awhile only to deposit it someplace obscure, today I was actually moved to read this ugly little book. I was not disappointed. "Last but not least, avoid cliches like the plague." The fatal flaw of most books concerned with grammar is that they tend to be incredibly wordy, even to the point of sending one into a coma, which can be extraordinarily dangerous if one is poised on the railing between the family room and the kitchen; this book exposes one to none of that danger. Safire offers fifty rules to promote good grammar and usage, and does so using right and wrong examples. The examples he uses are not, however, of a purely abstract nature, but using examples that are recognizable or satirical. The book is succinc

I ordered some of my textbooks just after Christmas. One of them has arrived, two are well on their way, but one has not yet been sent. I bought it from a Barnes & Noble affiliate seller with a high rating, but I now know there is no way I'll have it for the first week of class, and maybe will not have it for the second; that would be if it was sent today. Not well pleased, as they were paid almost two weeks ago, and my product still isn't on route. I'm really looking forward to this semester, as it is the first when all of the classes I'm attending are classes that I really wanted just for their own sake. Not just to fill out the bureaucracy approved checklist, but because I thought each class would be interesting. I start my morning with Poly-324/Hist-325, Modern Political Theory, which will be taught by my favourite professor that I have had thus far, Elliot Bartky. We will be reading Hobbes, Locke, Machiavelli, Spinoza, Rousseau, Marx...and two other books I can

Lamp Post, Aged 5, died earlier this afternoon when some privileged white girl ran him over. Lamp Post was fond of the outdoors and was especially good with dogs. According to those who knew Lamp, he was "a beacon in the darkness." It is as yet unknown what caused the accident which ended Lamp's bright future, but locals are suggesting it might have been deliberate. Fort Wayne Police say they believe the accident to be tied to illegal drag-racing, but are withholding all further comment pending a formal investigation.

I honestly have no idea what I want to do with myself when I am done with my studies. The military would be a tempting option, except for the fact of the difficulty in starting a family. I have always been fascinated by the law and would love to work with the law...but I do not know whether that would translate into my loving the lawyer profession, and I cannot help but notice that nobody likes lawyers. The military would be a more tempting route, if I knew what one would have to do in order to be a JAG, which would do quite nicely. This would be a fantastic way of combining two of the things I have always wanted to do. If only I could find a way to pursue it. Plus, I'm yet to hear of people hating on scummy JAGs.... Several of my professors have encouraged me to remain in the academic realm; this would be interesting, but I am not holding out for this. I realize that a large part of getting entry into this field requires pedigree, and pedigree costs a lot of money, so I am thinkin