(no subject)
Dear Thom Yorke:
It is okay to use guitars in your solo project. Yes, I know you use them in "Harrowdown Hill," I can't deny that, but that's only one of nine tracks. Stick with the band. You're brilliant, but you need them, man. Need. That having been said, I'm looking forward to your guys' next album in 2007.
Sincerely, Me
---
Harrowdown Hill's a cool song though, and I won't deny the suspiciousness of the story behind it-- the short version being that Dr. David Kelly was a British scientist sent to Iraq to investigate for biological weapons, found nothing, told the government he found nothing, and they... released a dossier saying they found weapons so that they could help invade Iraq. Kelly told some reporters about this, and was found dead on Harrowdown Hill days before he was supposed to testify to a committee about it. Investigators decided that he committed suicide-- he had taken some painkillers and slashed his wrists, but apparently there was almost no blood, the painkillers were nowhere near the lethal limit, and he had no prior history of mental illness.
Speaking of suicide, I'm in a precalculus class at HFCC right now: Monday through Thursday, 7:30pm to 10:00pm. It's fifteen weeks of material packed into a nine-week summer class. The teacher talks almost non-stop; we sometimes have one five-minute break. At the very end of the session he assigns us problems for homework, usually about 40 to 50. The first day was 70, today was 20. It varies. I go up to school at about 4:00pm and sit in the library and do homework for about 3 hours before class starts. This is why I've been scarce lately. Although I have a confession to make: if you are a girl, and you are better at math than me, it kind of makes me want to jump your bones. Seriously. I can't explain it. I sit there and do homework and think "I know a girl who could totally explain this to me and blow through these problems like nothing and smart is so sexy." It's akin to that "talk nerdy to me" t-shirt. If you're a chick and you can outmath me it totally makes me hot. How's that for dorky?
This class turns me into an empty husk of a man, incapable of performing higher functions. The instructor's little brother is in the class, and there are two girls, and I get the serious impression he's going to be giving them some special treatment. The last fifteen minutes of class are pretty much me blanking out and being silly as the instructor's math fervor crescendos into an orgy of numerical and variable values, and I start giggling and imagining what would happen if I just started making random noises (GOOOORNK!) and then walked out.
I was talking about this with another guy in my class, Rob, who's going to be a robotics engineer. I've only spoken to him a couple times but I get the impression our thought processes and senses of humor are similar. He's a cool guy. I was telling him how I was in a mood to watch Fight Club thanks to this class. This shit's frustrating and brain-frying and makes one desire an outlet. God what a great movie. However! I will never have any Fight Club merchandise, or Fight Club buddy icons, or whatever. That shit's completely defeating the purpose, people. You don't need the cornflower blue tie or the yin-yang endtable. Although I suppose repeating the quotes is in and of itself somewhat hypocritical.
In other news, my backyard is often full of slugs thanks to the temperature and the humidity these days. There were five or six on the trash can when I took the garbage out last week. And they are so cute! When you poke their little antennae they shrink up and look all sad and defensive. And they just slime their way across the pavement. Slugs make me giggle.
"This kid from work, Ricky, couldn't remember whether he ordered pens with blue ink or black. But Ricky was a god for ten minutes when he trounced the maitre d' of the local food court."
It is okay to use guitars in your solo project. Yes, I know you use them in "Harrowdown Hill," I can't deny that, but that's only one of nine tracks. Stick with the band. You're brilliant, but you need them, man. Need. That having been said, I'm looking forward to your guys' next album in 2007.
Sincerely, Me
---
Harrowdown Hill's a cool song though, and I won't deny the suspiciousness of the story behind it-- the short version being that Dr. David Kelly was a British scientist sent to Iraq to investigate for biological weapons, found nothing, told the government he found nothing, and they... released a dossier saying they found weapons so that they could help invade Iraq. Kelly told some reporters about this, and was found dead on Harrowdown Hill days before he was supposed to testify to a committee about it. Investigators decided that he committed suicide-- he had taken some painkillers and slashed his wrists, but apparently there was almost no blood, the painkillers were nowhere near the lethal limit, and he had no prior history of mental illness.
Speaking of suicide, I'm in a precalculus class at HFCC right now: Monday through Thursday, 7:30pm to 10:00pm. It's fifteen weeks of material packed into a nine-week summer class. The teacher talks almost non-stop; we sometimes have one five-minute break. At the very end of the session he assigns us problems for homework, usually about 40 to 50. The first day was 70, today was 20. It varies. I go up to school at about 4:00pm and sit in the library and do homework for about 3 hours before class starts. This is why I've been scarce lately. Although I have a confession to make: if you are a girl, and you are better at math than me, it kind of makes me want to jump your bones. Seriously. I can't explain it. I sit there and do homework and think "I know a girl who could totally explain this to me and blow through these problems like nothing and smart is so sexy." It's akin to that "talk nerdy to me" t-shirt. If you're a chick and you can outmath me it totally makes me hot. How's that for dorky?
This class turns me into an empty husk of a man, incapable of performing higher functions. The instructor's little brother is in the class, and there are two girls, and I get the serious impression he's going to be giving them some special treatment. The last fifteen minutes of class are pretty much me blanking out and being silly as the instructor's math fervor crescendos into an orgy of numerical and variable values, and I start giggling and imagining what would happen if I just started making random noises (GOOOORNK!) and then walked out.
I was talking about this with another guy in my class, Rob, who's going to be a robotics engineer. I've only spoken to him a couple times but I get the impression our thought processes and senses of humor are similar. He's a cool guy. I was telling him how I was in a mood to watch Fight Club thanks to this class. This shit's frustrating and brain-frying and makes one desire an outlet. God what a great movie. However! I will never have any Fight Club merchandise, or Fight Club buddy icons, or whatever. That shit's completely defeating the purpose, people. You don't need the cornflower blue tie or the yin-yang endtable. Although I suppose repeating the quotes is in and of itself somewhat hypocritical.
In other news, my backyard is often full of slugs thanks to the temperature and the humidity these days. There were five or six on the trash can when I took the garbage out last week. And they are so cute! When you poke their little antennae they shrink up and look all sad and defensive. And they just slime their way across the pavement. Slugs make me giggle.
"This kid from work, Ricky, couldn't remember whether he ordered pens with blue ink or black. But Ricky was a god for ten minutes when he trounced the maitre d' of the local food court."