Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Read it and weep, America

It is official:
I am a registered voter. I encourage all the readers out there who haven't registered yet to do so. Even if we disagree politically, you not voting is a shame for both parties. It, quite simply (even if do think your vote doesn't count) is a matter of self respect.
Here. I will do the hardest part for you:

www.rockthevote.org

Look, they even have the same font as "Rock Band". How could you NOT get excited?

P.S
I haven't played Rock Band in five days and am going through some serious withdrawals. Maybe I have a problem...

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Deaded by a bedbug


Today was the first day of my new semester. It feels so good to know that in half of a school year I will be able to put this terrible experience behind me and go to college where I can yearn to put other terrible experiences behind me. Until then I anxiously squirm in my chair day dreaming about life after high school. Things seemed to be going well, until...well...fucking bedbugs.

You see, last night I got home from a family trip to Boston (which was fun. It's an attractive looking town. At least the parts I saw) and started to get ready for the next day which would bring me a new semester. Everyone was in a great mood and I retired to my bed when I heard my mother and father yelling that my report card had come. 

My starlets, I'm sure you can guess what happened but it was pretty terrible. I got yelled at, I yelled and the overall conclusion was that I am a deadbeat because I refuse to do more homework than I have to. I guess this makes me a loser. Even if my GPA went up 30 points since last year it didn't go up that 40 points everyone was hoping for. Aparantly that means I'm a jerk off. Still, I'm learning as I grow older that I don't actually have to say "fuck that!" out loud. I can just say it in my head and nod when I'm told that I'm lazy bum. Seems to work out better for everyone.

After getting reamed by my mother and father I retreated and went back into my safety zone with a sore throat. I went to sleep and started to watch a Zappa flick when I looked at my blanket and saw a disgusting little bug. I picked it up and thinking it was a tick woke up my folks. They said "Kevin, I believe that is a bed bug". 

Next thing I know, my folks are ransacking my bed. Saying "We need to find them!" which was all well and fine, I wanted to find them too, but at what cost?

I watched in horror as everything I had ever tried to hide from my parents was thrown out into the open: cigarettes, love notes, little liquor bottles, huge beer bottles (one of which was still half full and even worst: it was a "St. Ides" which is equivalent to homeless man sweat*) failed tests and even photos I took of a sex shop window but felt dirty putting in my albums and felt guilty tossing out.

*see below:



Basically, theses fucking bedbugs blew my cover and on the same night I got deaded for shitty grades. We did some more searching and came to the conclusion that they weren't actually bed bugs. Instead, it was just some asshole bug who decided to land on my blanket and fuck my shit up. I'm glad to say that that bug is dead. If there is a heaven for bugs, he is most definitely not there.

It seems stuff like this keeps happening to me. Whenever it does, I just close my eyes and say to myself: halfway there, my dear. Halfway there...

Saturday, January 26, 2008

I'm sorry and goodbye

Sounds more intense than it actually is but two pieces of news for you:
you may have noticed the site is beginning to flat line. Well, that is my bad. I have been lazy and busy (which is a deadly combination) and haven't been updating at all. Things are starting to settle down and I intend on getting back into the swing of things come my new semester.

Also, in about a half hour I'm off to Boston. If I see anything worth taking a picture of, I will take a picture of it and put it online. I will miss you.

Expect a real post tonight. I think we have some catching up to do. Until then here is some Kirk Douglas to hold you off. We have a similar facial structure...you know: handsome.




Monday, January 14, 2008

American Revolution. Redux.

"Today we will learn about the second American Revolution of the early 21st century."
I can see a teacher standing in front of a gigantic OLED screen in one hundred years. 
"Boooring"
An anxious child, tired of hearing about the redundant history of his country's past slumps over his desk (which hovers in the future) and braces for another boring lecture.

Yes, my starlets, this to me is a dream I would love to come true. I don't need to state the obvious. This country is devolving. Fast.
Morally and financially. We are losing sight of the basic foundations our homeland was based on. We are becoming more and more like sheep and with each generation comes fewer people with a grasp of what we once were and can be.
I was always bothered that, to estimate, 8 out of 10 teenagers in this country don't know what the word "Autonomy" means but could tell you what a "dictator" is in a heartbeat.

Frankly, I'm worried about the future. I feel my generation has not displayed the courage and intelligence to change things. I'm registered to vote but I know deep in my mind that policies can't change people. Only people can change people.

It's frustrating, it's scary and it's sad. I hate to see soldiers dying in vain and cultures being eradicated. I hate to see civil liberates fading with the dust of 9/11 and I hate it when I find myself scared because a talking head in my living room told me I should.

What I hate the most, however, is seeing people who feel the same way I do not doing anything. Why can't we have another American Revolution? A non-violent display of where the real power in this country lies. 
One can argue that people, Americans in particular, are a generally apathetic in nature. That, if there wasn't a draft during Vietnam there wouldn't have been so many protests. If that is the case I pray that there is a draft tonight and that not a soul steps foot on a military base but instead the nearest street leading to Pennsylvania Avenue.

Nazi Germany started with a few small things. Inducing fear after the burning of Reichstag, passing the Enabling Act of 1933 and trying to drive the Jews out of Germany. Orwellian America is starting with a few small things too. Inducing fear after 9/11, having the right to seize and search bags while riding public transportation (and violate countless other constitutional rights thanks to Patriot Act) and the attempt to rid the country of illegal immigrants.

Things need to change. If not politically, socially.

I know most of you reading this are young. Well, as young Americans we are obligated to start doing things. Saying things. When we see a man call another man a nigger, we need to say something. When we see a man call another man a faggot we need to say something. When we see men and women being forced to kill other innocent men and women all in the name of some asshole's get rich quick scheme just "saying" something won't be enough. We need to do something.

Vote.
Wear orange.
Make art. Write about it. Sing about it, scream in the streets about it or cut school, shit, cut yourself.
Just do whatever it is you need to do to change things. Then, my starlets, this country may have a future.

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Hip hip!

My dear good friend Lex got into SAIC. Let's congratulate him. Looks like I won't be in Chicago all alone.

Saturday, January 12, 2008

Coulter gets deaded and the children cheer

Already hooked? If not, you have no soul.



This is a fine example of the types of people I love and the types I hate.
There are people like Ann Coulter who are sick, selfish, narrow minded schmucks. Now, that's alright on it's own. But once you start shoving your childish ignorance onto other people, then I have a problem.
On the right side is Al Franken. Not only open minded and intelligent but FUNNY! Entertaining, comprehensible. That is talent. 

p.s
I just found out that EVERY post I have written for this blog has been in HTML format. I didn't know there was a tab that said "compose" next to "edit html". Strange, eh?

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

I will only do this once.

I have never, ever, felt it necessary to talk about the fading star that is Britney Spears. Not because I find it boring but because I know it's over printed and talked about (for the wrong reasons) way too much and putting a post on a blog with BS's name slapped on it is only contributing to the problem. I actually find it very fascinating. The topic of celebrity break down is one that has always fascinated me. That might be why "Hollywood Babylon" is one of my favorite books of all time.
There have been so many Britneys. So many who actually had better stories behind them. My favorite being Fatty "Roscoe" Arbuckle who I won't even begin to elaborate on because if I do, this post will become an essay. Instead I will send you here.



Point being, from D.W Griffith and Judy Garland to Britney Spears, we as a society love to felate these people (figuratively, though the literal, too, applies) and then destroy them. I don't know why we do it, but we do. Often. It most definitely has something to do with our urge to kill people or at least break them down to a pile of shit. I mean, we are animals after all and no animal can truly lack envy. It's what kept us from smoking pot in caves all day.
Anyway, today I was reading (and it seems these days I have no choice over it) about Britney's latest fuck-up. This stuck out to me because I feel terribly sorry for one individual: Dr. Phil.

See, Dr. Phil has this huge episode of his show planned where he would talk to not only Britney but her entire (including the knocked up kid sis) family. On television they would solve all of Britney's problems. The nation would be cured and we could go back to worshiping their idol while looking around for a new one to destroy. Dr. Phil would be regarded as a hero, held on a high thrown, get a promotion and most likely venture into some other endeavour, maybe another show on Court TV helping all of America's favorite losers.
Imagine how great that would be? I mean for Dr. Phil.
Well, stop imagining.
Britney cancelled the show.



DEADED.

Sunday, January 6, 2008

What's a radio show?

It's been a VERY long time.
But guess what? I'm back in the game.
Look over to the right...a little more...up...there you go.
NEW EPISODE WHAT UP?!

Friday, January 4, 2008

Angry? Indeed. Confused? A tad.

****ANGST ALERT****
After reading the following I said to myself "Damn. That's angsty". Be warned.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you know me for a long time you know that I am not, and never was very good at the whole academia scene. I, quite simply, never really gave a shit or at least one large enough to try. If I was tired and had homework I would go to sleep. If I had a good movie to watch and an essay to write I would watch the movie. If there was a test that needed studying and the sun was out and hitting the asphalt in a particularly beautiful way, I would go for a walk. You get the point.
It was only recently that I was forced to decide to start "doing well" in school. It's been a year and I slip up every so often because you really can't teach an old dog new tricks but more importantly: it still all seems so stupid.
I have these thoughts recently. You see, since I have been doing well in school I have had SO much stress, more than I have ever had in my entire life. The thing that bothers me is every time I face a difficult obstacle (lets say it's a math final) people all around me say "Don't worry, Kev. Once yer' done it will all be over with". I say "That's true" and die a little and do the work.
Then, a week later, that difficult obstacle is replaced with an equally difficult one. Say, the Regents. Then, say, the SATs. Then say College Apps so on, so on and so on.
So I guess what I'm saying is that those early days of high school when I smoked grass all the time, watched Stan Brakhage and amounted to nothing were so much better than the days I'm living now. The sick part is people are saying "Good work" when back in the smokey loser days people wouldn't even bother acknowledging my presence. It's jarring and it pisses me off.
The other thing that bothers me is how people keep telling me that "my life is ahead of me" or "you will thank yourself for doing work later on" and other bullshit hallmark sayings like that. My life is in my hands, teacher? That's OD. You know why? Because:
1. I can't vote
2. I can't own anything
3. I can't have a bank account
4. I can't go to the Doctor's independently
5. I can't buy tobacco, alcohol or pornography
6. I can't gamble
7. I can't drive
8. I have only recently been able to see an "R" rated movie
9. I can't have a regular job
10. I can't have sex with anyone I want
Until I can do those 10 things I don't consider having power over my life and/or where it's going. Plus, teenagers are fucking stupid. We have hormones spewing out of our ears, were confused, were pissed off and we hate everything (EVERYTHING) that has to do with school, parents or "the man" and for no fucking reason. Science knows this.
So why the FUCK would you expect one of us to make a logical, beneficial long term decision about homework at the age of 15?
I just
do
not
get
it.

Now ask me how I feel?

That's how.

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

The windy city

A good way to start off this new year is with some big news. I found out yesterday that I was accepted to the Art Institute of Chicago. I really, really dig the place and after the other rejection from "you-know-who" I started to get a tad nervous about the whole situation.
I don't know if I'm going there but I really want to (at least as of now). I will have to hear from other schools and mature a little before I can decide. Until then.

Bean it up.

DEADED!

I can't even express how deaded this girl is...

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

Happy new year

It's 2008. Hooray.
Last night was crazy. I have never stayed in the city on New Years and I have also never seen so many incredibly intoxicated people on my block in my life.
I thought it would be appropriate to welcome the new year with something from many years past: The Art Show. Indeed, starlets, the movie that started it all. Let us hope this is a prompt for great things to come. Enjoy.



P.S
I haven't been doing radio shows (as I'm sure you noticed) not because I forgot about you but because I was trying to take the whole computer thing easy during my break. You know, read books and stuff. Anyway, I have taken it easy and once I get back into the swing of things expect episodes to fly in like airplanes. Yes. Airplanes.