And now, for your feature presentation...
So, orientation has been, for the most part, going just fine. Although it's rather boring to present the same completely objective information 12 times a week, I can see why some people want to become teachers. After years of wondering how anyone in their right mind could possibly want to present the same damn material every year as a career, I recognize that it can be fun to teach people. The orientees that actually care make the days a little bit easier (although certainly not any shorter, especially since I don't get paid), and the OLs continue to be my new favorite people on campus.
I guess this means I've grown a little less cynical about some things (although I maintain that the majority of high schoolers have absolutely no idea about how the real world works, definitely including myself four or five years ago), but fortunately, for those of us who enjoy being a jaded cynic, there's good news.
Good News for people who love bad news (No, it's not an article about Modest Mouse). The RIAA continues to garner my scorn and loathing for stuff like this, when they should really be focusing on the harm caused to artists and listeners by allowing huge record conglomerates to continue charging outrageous prices for albums for which the musician gets like 15 cents.
oooh! Child sacrifice in the first world!
"But.... but... he was a witch!" *eyeroll*
This, however, makes me laugh. Did they never stop to consider the fact that the mice may've been trying to drown their sorrows at forced participation in an alcohol-related neuron growth experiment?
Fortunately for those of us who've spent our lives believing that "drinking kills brain cells! Run for your lives!," these guys think they can make new ones for us. Seriously though, if they can make new brain cells, how would you put them in the part of the brain you wanted? What if they were specialized? What if they don't wanna cooperate with adjacent nerve cells? What if you end up hearing with your occipital lobe, and seeing with your parietal? It's crazy, I tell you. Totally crazy.
And finally.... Bone rings? Hmm.... that's one way to combine true love with being weird as hell....
Alright, so maybe I'm a bit too bored at work. But whatever... look for a lyrics competition in the near future (read: as soon as I think of some good ones).
Cheerio!
- The Management
I guess this means I've grown a little less cynical about some things (although I maintain that the majority of high schoolers have absolutely no idea about how the real world works, definitely including myself four or five years ago), but fortunately, for those of us who enjoy being a jaded cynic, there's good news.
Good News for people who love bad news (No, it's not an article about Modest Mouse). The RIAA continues to garner my scorn and loathing for stuff like this, when they should really be focusing on the harm caused to artists and listeners by allowing huge record conglomerates to continue charging outrageous prices for albums for which the musician gets like 15 cents.
oooh! Child sacrifice in the first world!
"But.... but... he was a witch!" *eyeroll*
This, however, makes me laugh. Did they never stop to consider the fact that the mice may've been trying to drown their sorrows at forced participation in an alcohol-related neuron growth experiment?
Fortunately for those of us who've spent our lives believing that "drinking kills brain cells! Run for your lives!," these guys think they can make new ones for us. Seriously though, if they can make new brain cells, how would you put them in the part of the brain you wanted? What if they were specialized? What if they don't wanna cooperate with adjacent nerve cells? What if you end up hearing with your occipital lobe, and seeing with your parietal? It's crazy, I tell you. Totally crazy.
And finally.... Bone rings? Hmm.... that's one way to combine true love with being weird as hell....
Alright, so maybe I'm a bit too bored at work. But whatever... look for a lyrics competition in the near future (read: as soon as I think of some good ones).
Cheerio!
- The Management