My mother asked me if I was planning to attend the Macy's Corporate Day of Sponsored Thanks and Massive One Time Only Sales Parade... she always checks to see if I'm attending cultural (by which I mean "televised") events.

My response: "Of COURSE not!"

These "cultural" events combine my two least favorite things in the entire world: 1) cold weather; 2) more importantly, immense crowds of people. I don't like groups greater than four, I certainly am not going to subject myself to a Manhattan Tourist Festival of Overpriced Coffee (brought to you by Macy's).

I'm a Southern California kid, through and through. When I first moved to this coast, I was always assuming I missed a digit in the weather forecast. 17 degrees? I can live with 117 (if it's a dry heat). 3 degrees? You've got to be kidding me.

Oh desert dwellers, I envy you. Not having to dress and undress yourself every time you enter a building.

My friend Briana (my host for my Thanksgiving retreat) was pleased to find that it was snowing on Tuesday night. My friend Allie was pleased to note the same thing.

I can buy this from my SoCal homegirl Allie; the first time it snowed during my freshman year I, too, was innocently pleased. But Briana hails from Pennsyltucky, has lived in cold weather all her life, and continues to celebrate the snowfall? After only two years, I'm already fed up! It simply makes life more difficult, and significantly more slippery.

I am heading back to THE CITY today, where I plan to continue to wage the war in my head, with the sides consisting of:

For the Blue Team (or I guess Green is funnier): BUY NOTHING DAY!!
For the Red White and Blue Team (ha!): "There are many movies in the theatre, and I totally have a day off!"

I think what will end up happening is this: I will continue to mock and disparage the system of corporate greed and marketing exhibited by this country, hate you for your part in it, and still go watch the new James Bond movie today, 'cause fuck you, I can do what I want! I'm an American damnit, and I want to be treated like one.

But seriously... the only money I'm spending today is for my train ticket back into New York. Read more about Buy Nothing Day at the Adbusters webpage. It's a step, if a small one. It might be too late for this year, but mark your calendars for 2003!

I don't even know how to comment on this... this unsolicited e-mail was sent to me today. Here is the entire text:

"Dear Students / Faculty,

Before the semester comes to a close, we are offering all students the opportunity to purchase pepper spray self-defense products at
discount prices. One in four women will be sexually assaulted on campus, and one in eight will be raped. Personal defense for yourself and your loved ones starts here As personal safety becomes ever more necessary, we hope that everyone can take advantage of this limited offer. Good luck with finals and we wish you all a happy holidays!
-makes a great gift
-compact keychain goes everywhere
http://www.holidaycloseouts.com/pepperspray"

Yeah... what a great gift. Family and friends, I sure would like a compact keychain pepperspray this Christmas in my stocking.

Read this and try not to scream and hit things.

This is a story in The Guardian about Henry Kissinger and other war criminals being placed in new positions of power.

On a related note, something I have often thought, and heard comedian David Cross say recently: How fucked up is it that I have to read another nation's newspaper to have my own country's news reported to me?

I'm off to Pennsylvania, for to celebrate the Thanksgiving holiday.

Happy Thanksgiving all!

"In the meadow, we can build a snowman!
And pretend that he is Parson Brown.
He'll say 'Are you married?'
We'll say 'Who the fuck asked you?'
And then we'll leave his body underground!"

~Dave McGee, 10/28/02
I guess it was a good day.

"There are all these actors at NYU, and they're bad! So why the hell are they here? Shouldn't they just admit that they're bad, and transfer to the School of Ed. and become educators?"

~Dave McGee, 10/28/02

And furthermore, may I say that:

a) nothing has ever made me want to write as much as they did.

b) You'll have to forgive if, at least for a while, my poetry sounds vaguely slam-ish. I'm guessing it probably will. They opened up my damn mind, yo.

I just returned from seeing "Def Poetry Jam on Broadway." I feel at an utter loss for words to explain it. A brief story of my day, leading up to the experience of this amazing, amazing, amazing show.

My History of Theatre Architecture class visited the Ford Center for Performing Arts today. As long as I was up in the theatre district, I thought I might see if I could score tickets for a show.

While I'm not normally a fan of "THE BROADWAY MUSICAL," my first stop was the Marriot Marquis Theatre to see a man about some Millie. The lead actress in this show (Thoroughly Modern Millie) blew me away with her ass-kicking ability to sing better than anyone else ever, and I saw her perform one number. On television.

While I'm still a student, I want to only pay like a student. Millie's student-rush tickets were all gone, however. (Another time... I guess maybe it's worth getting up early one day out of my life to get cheap theatre tickets.)

Across the street, the majestic TKTS booth! Half-price tickets for Broadway shows! I waited in that line for just under an hour before I saw that they did not accept credit cards. I, as usual, had no cash. I stepped out of line, slightly dejected, and walked away.

Walking past 48th St. I saw the Longacre... now I've been really wanting to see Def Poetry Jam so I hopped over to see if they were rushing students.

They said "How many did you want?" I said "Hmm... two?" (figuring I could find somebody in this city that wanted a cheap theatre ticket) I got the last two student rush tickets! Woo!

The tickets were labelled "Row AA," which I assumed meant that I was in the 27th row. This seems only logical. But when Ashe (I found someone!) and I were being escorted to our seats, I realized that we weren't in the 27th row...

Front. Row.

For musicals, big staged dance numbers and whatnot, this could suck. But people speaking poetry? Shit, I'll be six inches from the stage any day.

Here, again, I come to trying to explain how amazing this show is. After seeing these artists, these masters of language, and hearing their words I feel silly trying to write a review. So here: the first act is amazing. Wonderful. Perfect. Amazing and brilliant.

And I was amazed to find that this brilliance is a mere set-up for the second act. Which blew me away. In the rush of words from these nine amazing poets, I found myself sobbing and laughing and wanting to shout and scream with them. And find language like them. It's a journey of rage, of anger, of hate and ultimately hope. It's a journey through despair into responsibility.

It is utterly brilliant. These poets are brilliant.

I have never experienced anything like it before. See this show.

At Jon's request, I made an online quiz about myself. Take it here!

An archive of this site exists. It's certainly not the best formatting ever, but I don't mind at this point. Blogger seems to have trouble with their archive stuff.

I added a link to it on the sidebar, in case you forgot what I said in, you know, October.

If you don't read Gregg Easterbrook's column "Tuesday Morning Quarterback" (at ESPN.com's Page 2), let it be known that I think you should. He is one brilliant, funny man. His bio reads: "Gregg Easterbrook is a senior editor of New Republic, a contributing editor of The Atlantic Monthly and a visiting fellow at the Brookings Institution. He is believed to be the first Brookings scholar ever to write a pro football column ."

In his column, along with fantastic football observations, he discusses government, physics, problems in the Star Trek timeline, and generally only publishes reader-mail when sent to him as haiku. I love this column.

Here's something I found amusing from his most recent column (discussing warnings on movie posters), which you can find here. But to show you everything I liked, I'd just quote the whole column. Basically, go read it. And read the back issues. And read it every Tuesday.

"Warning boxes for "About a Boy" and the current "Standing in the Shadows of Motown" cautioned of "thematic elements." As best as TMQ can determine, this means the movie is about a subject, rather than just being random sight gags, breasts and explosions. Apparently at this point Hollywood feels it must issue warnings when a movie has a subject. Some moviegoers, or more likely some studio executives, consider this notion disturbing..."

"Runteldat" warned of "pervasive language." They talk all the time in that movie? "The Bourne Identity" warned of "some language." Which language -- Croatian? Xhosa? Ads for "Blue Crush" warned of "teen partying." Oh, so it's a horror movie!"

Some notes:

1) If you ever go to Central Park to take pictures of the fall landscape, I recommend headphones and a hearty portion of Enya's Watermark.

2) Last week: Warren Ellis' Mek #1; Kevin Smith's Daredevil/Bullseye #1. I guess I'll buy issue 2 of each series.

3) After many two-issue weeks, this is a four issue week. Y: The Last Man #5; Amazing Spider-Man #47; Daredevil #39; Incredible Hulk #47. Yeah for DC Vertigo, yeah for Marvel super-heroes.

4) So I saw this alleged new Harry Potter film, which I guess is great if you're bored with yourself and want someone else to imagine the books for you. Which is valid, sort of. Except I, for one, wouldn't have selected Chris Columbus.

I think that's it for now... peace.

There's this whole "school" thing going on, I guess.

My goodness. I'd gladly trade a week of winter break for a week off in the middle of fall. I needed a break at the end of October, not five days at the end of November. The former is a break, the second is just a needless break of pace. I'd have gladly given thanks on October 25th. Roosevelt is dead, you know.

I think some of you might agree with me that video games rule. Regardless of your stance on this issue, you must admit that War of the Monsters looks pretty cool.

From Official U.S. Playstation Magazine's hands-on preview:

"The basic premise is simple. Big, '50s-style B-movie monsters fight to the death in huge cityscape arenas. A suitably kitsch backstory hold the whole thing together, but ultimately it's fairly irrelevant. The important thing is that these guys are huge. Think King Kong; think Japanese giant robots; think Rampage for the 21st century mixed with wrestling and the old Neo-Geo game King of the Monsters. Smash buildings, throw the rubble, even pick up cars or buses and use them as weapons. It's out-and-out mayhem, and it's incredibly fun. The monsters all have an extremely wide variety of moves that allows them to kick, punch, throw, grapple and zap their opponents--the ensuing destruction is nothing short of spectacular. [OK... this is where I think it gets really cool!] In one game we played, the crazy-looking Kineticlops {looks like a walking lightning bolt with an eyeball} picked up the rock monster dude, zapped him a couple of times, then threw him through a skyscraper. He proceeded to wander up to the rubble, grab some rebar, and beat seven shades out of him."

To which I say a hearty "Word!"

Last night I watched Michael Moore's new film Bowling for Columbine. I give this the highest recommendation that I can give a film. It's a brilliant, daring, frustrating look at our society. I'm not sure which frustrates me more: the problems explored in this film, or the fact that if it were shown to the people that most need to see it a deaf ear would be turned to it.

The refusal of those in power to address the situation does not surprise me, I suppose: look at how the gun supporters flounder for reasonable answers when asked the tough questions in this film.

Moore poses all the questions. The answers, if they exist, are up to us. Please go see this movie.

The server and I welcome you home, Josh.

There's a discussion of Pearl Jam's Riot Act underway on the message board. Join us, if you will!

One other note: I attended the opera last evening (well, you know, the first half. but we'll get to that) because it's important to be a worldly, cultured person.

I did, however, find it necessary to leave at halftime, or whatever they're calling it these days, because boredom became not so much a side-effect as a full-on tumor gnawing at my psyche. While a man standing at the edge of the stage and repeatedly yelling "FIGARO!!!!!" (this actually happened. the opera was "The Barber of Some Shit or Other" I think it may have been in Italy, because I think they were yelling in Italian) may pass for entertainment for, you know, cultured people, I decided I'd rather not experience any more. So I left, having lost only $25 and several hours of my life, but did escape with most of my sanity intact.

I think next time I'll opt for experimental theatre where, at least when they're yelling Figaro, there's a chance of somebody flying or eating Rice Krispies or something.

I went to the Knicks/Kings game at Madison Square Garden and that was all well and good. Though I love Chris Webber, despite his tendency to be literally afraid of the ball at crunch time, my loyalties still lie with my Lakers and my Clippers. So anytime a Western Conference foe loses to an (L)Eastern conference team, that's fine by me.

The national anthem performance was the best I have ever heard live. Ever. John Popper, on his harmonica, kicked that song's old ass. My goodness, it was awesome.

I added in the four lines that, you know, make it a sonnet. Sheesh. (All discussions of sonnets previously and from here (unless otherwise specified) apply to the Shakespearean sonnet structure. Because I said so.)

If youse be coming by here, and youse be just reading the front page and hightailing out of here, youse are doing youseselves wrong by youse.

Basically, this is to say: come play with us on the discussion page!

We have fun and I, personally, say the more the merrier. And since it's my discussion page, that's that!

WOO!

Things on my mind:

1. I love sonnets. I think that their structure is beautiful-- I love to read them and, I found recently, to write them. You've seen my first attempt... Anyone here ever written a sonnet? Feel free to share, I'd love to read it.

2. The Dream Hunters kicked ass. Neil Gaiman rocks hard.

3. I'm reading Simon Schama's A History of Britain, and so far I am greatly enjoying it. I went to two bookstores looking for a book on the history of London, but neither store had one, so I settled for the wider angle shot.

4. Pearl Jam has a new album coming out. My breath, currently, is bated.

5. Comic books purchased this week: Issues 1 & 2 of Resistance (haven't read yet); Issue 2 of Paradigm (haven't read yet); The Dream Hunters TPB. Oh, and 100 Bullets 39 which kicked ass!

6. I love the discussion board. Keep 'em coming.

7. "There's a monkey in my pocket and he's stealing all my change! His stare is blank and glassy; I suspect that he's deranged."

8. The leaves have just barely begun to change (this is mostly for Jenn). Next week should be prime fall-photo time.

9. Seriously, no seriously, Central Park is amazing. I love it.

10. If you haven't come to visit me yet, you should. That goes for you.

Words from the Sheep Meadow

I wake to find this place I did not seek--
Existence proves itself among these lands.
The sting of winter's wind upon my cheek
The longing of this page between my hands.
The cynic in me laughs-- it sees me found
Romantic, on this dreary sunless day.
Perhaps it's mem'ry's spell in which I'm bound
Without the skill to find the words I'd say...
Across a distant sea I would behold
This lonely tree and find my heart content.
But here within this rolling meadow's fold
My heart, my mind, my hands this message sent:
Though 'cross Atlantic's grey this land might seem
It breathes without me now as though I dream.

Today was a wonderful day.

The beginning of our tale actually takes place last Saturday. I sat, watching the Notre Dame/Air Force football game, and the TV exploded. Sort of. I heard a loud pop, and it ceased to function. Today was the first day I've had a chance to take it to a repair place. It's still under warranty, so that's good I suppose.

I lugged the TV down to the street corner, got a cab, and went uptown the licensed Daewoo service center. Yes. I bought a Daewoo. I guess that extra $50 for the Sony would have been a good idea, but you know what they say about bygones*.

Since I was uptown anyway, I decided to drop in on the Museum of Natural History. Before today I hadn't been there, and since it's on my list as "Just Perhaps the Most Beautiful Building I've Seen in the United States" I thought I should check out in the interior.

I was in it for a short time, just enough to remind myself that I really don't like Natural History Museums.

I walked down Central Park West for a time, revelling in the beautiful day and stopping to read the plaques on the sides of the buildings.

I turned and walked through Central Park, pausing for a while to read some of The Dream Hunters, and to write a sonnet.

Then, I walked down Lexington... all the way home. It was a lovely, long walk. It was a beautiful day.



*that they've gone by. duh.