"Vote or Die" That's a clever little diddy, Diddy.
Taylor, it's a shame you aren't yet old enough to vote. Your sterling diatribe against the G.O.P. is worthy of a national publication. (A reputable one, too! Not The National Inquirer or anysuch.)
Politics.....craaaaziness, no? It seems to be a more.....thickly....present....topic lately. I am not certain whether it is an awareness spawned by personal maturation or increased interest in civic accountability or.....fucky, fucky, rubber ducky. I have no idea what I am trying to say. Has there been an augmentation of political conscience in pop culture, or does it just appear to be the case because we are no longer pleasantly ignorant children? (That could be said more succinctly, but I care not for simplicity in writing.) I would like to think that people are simply nurturing a philanthropic interest in the state of our country, the world, humanity, and so on, but recent events seem to indicate that a more insidious culprit exists: devious parental indoctrination.
Case in point is as follows:
I went with Keri and a group of Shepherd folks to protest the Bush rally in Hedgesville. (James, Amy, and John were there as well). Keri, Chris, and Danny went in costume as advised by a guerilla theatre movement known as "Billionaires for Bush." There weren't a lot of Kerry supporters, really, but they all seemed to be nice and enthusiastic, excepting a group of mohawked, dyed, chained, and profane seeming-anarchists carrying an American flag with revolutionary dicta written on it. Normally I am a devout proponent of the profane, but when these "hardcore" folk began swearing in front of children exiting the rally and flicking off traffic, well....that's counterproductive, you know?
Anyway, most all of the Kerry supporters left after the Bush motorcade passed by the second time, which was before the 10000 Bushites poured out of Hedgesville High. Chris an Danny, dressed in gaudy formalwear and equipped with ascot, pipe, and cigar, decided that the Billionaires should cross to the high school side of the road and mockingly thank the rallygoers for tax cuts and such. Most of those who spoke to us were benignly and amusingly rude. "You don't know nothin'" or "You don't know what freedom is!" or "You don't know how good you got it, you socialists." (What is so terrible about socialism? Divinity, how I loathe those White, sunburned, Republican mouthpieces.) Our venture into enemy territory only became REALLY scary when a gangly, spook-eyed redneck angrily approached us, gulping through his cigarette, growling, "I don't give a fuck if the police are here. You have no fucking right to fucking do this. This isn't your turn." Yadda, yadda, yadda. After intentionally giving Danny the stone shoulder- almost knocking him down- , the man bellowed ciggy smoke Chris's face, eye to eye and 3 inches between noses. This angry man's charming wife then came over, feathers ruffled, and said much of the same to Keri, including calling her a "faggot" (hmmmmm.....), and also blowing smoke. After bandying a few more words, the man threw his cigarette at Chris's face and the woman chucked her drink on Keri. These people sound like real winners, no? Well, I looked behind them to see their daughter, Jefferson's own Haley Hathaway, pacing and encouraging her damned parents. Referring to us, "Really, this isn't the right time, guys. You shouldn't be doing this." Since when the fuck is there an appropriate time for protest? Riddle me that, you American stains.
Hmmm....What more? NewSong was...different from last year. I think mom's job as Coordinator of Volunteers was less hectic, but mine as Coordinator of Lodging was more nettling. Gar kept giving me more and more people to house in the 11th hour and into the festival, until every damned nook at Claymont was occupied by a sleeping body. As a cost-cutting tactic, there wasn't a "real" headliner this year, as opposed to having two last year. When will those damned founders find middle ground? One spectacular detail of this year's festival was getting to hear Devon Sproule play several times, as well as conversing with her and buying a second CD of hers. She is quite amazing, as is her betrothed, Paul Curreri. Susan, a volunteer whom mom and I both enjoyed very much at the festival, described Paul as the male version of Devon musically. And Paul is going to play in Cambridge soon after I get there. Cooooooooooool.
Went to a "We Love Jimmy Buffet & Good-Bye to Summer" party at Beth's house. She is such a wonderfully nice person. I would wish that she were my madrastra, but I wouldn't want her to have to endure dad. Brittany was there, but things are still different from the good ole' days of childhood. I am going to try and resurrect our closeness via e-mail, though. Talked about Harvard a lot at the party, as with all occasions. Had wonderful political discussions with....Dave?...Pastor Helen's husband.
Several Nutter's runs have occured, crowds varying with Tab, Suzie (before she left!), Taylor, and Claire. Ah! How lonely it has been with WVU folks gone. Sara left for Amherst on Saturday...and Jona for Brown. Jennifer is the only one left, but that is hardly consolation. I will miss Sara some, because she is such an innocent intellectual, but Jennifer? The antithesis of humanity brings little comfort. I've been telling people for so long that I won't be leaving until after eveyone else. Cory was surprised when I said that I'd be gone this Saturday. Did people expect me to stick around? I think some (Dee for instance) keep seeing me periodically and assume that I am not really going to college at all. The truth is... even WVU rejected me, so I just decided to live a stupendous lie. Ah, the rationale of the human mind.
How I envy WVU'ers and Shepherd folks and Winchester buddies and Serena at Tulane and Amanda at CMU and so on and so on....They've all BEGUN there freshman year. They've conquered the initial terrors and discomforts. They are on the way to establishing habit and....I am nowhere.
Packing is banal and all too concrete. I made major progress Monday in terms of sealing away the bulk of my clothes (only to break into them again). I did little tonight....or last night. Miniscule rebellion, I suppose. Speaking of reacting poorly to leaving...I've taken to being extremely mean to my mother. She caught on, though, and called me on my semi-subconscious plot to try and piss everyone off...to make my leaving seem less of an issue. I don't know how my dad feels, or if I will even have a dinner with him or anything later this week. He'll probably just call and we'll hang up with an unfamiliar "Okey doke." Ah, life! I found a letter on my pillow this evening. It was from mom, and the first line read, "I don't want to embarass you in the airport, so I will say all this now...." Yadda, yadda. I put it back down. I don't want to think about...what I should be thinking about.
I won't have my computer for a week! While I'm doing Dorm Crew stuff before orientation begins, I will be in temporary housing, and, being the overly cautious young man that I am, I don't want to risk bringing my laptop up with me. Mom will haul it with the rest of my stuff when she comes up for move-in day. I suppose I am looking forward to meeting my roommates. But, then again, if they are not as pleasant as they seem on AIM and in e-mails, I will have my lovely single as a fortress of hermitude.
Sarah Fitzgerald, how I appreciate your pep and encouragement! I will give you my undivided devotion when you visit meeeee.
My life seems terribly pitiful when packed into rubber tubs and cardboard coaches.
"I am hasty for you, you fast statue."
Jordan
Politics.....craaaaziness, no? It seems to be a more.....thickly....present....topic lately. I am not certain whether it is an awareness spawned by personal maturation or increased interest in civic accountability or.....fucky, fucky, rubber ducky. I have no idea what I am trying to say. Has there been an augmentation of political conscience in pop culture, or does it just appear to be the case because we are no longer pleasantly ignorant children? (That could be said more succinctly, but I care not for simplicity in writing.) I would like to think that people are simply nurturing a philanthropic interest in the state of our country, the world, humanity, and so on, but recent events seem to indicate that a more insidious culprit exists: devious parental indoctrination.
Case in point is as follows:
I went with Keri and a group of Shepherd folks to protest the Bush rally in Hedgesville. (James, Amy, and John were there as well). Keri, Chris, and Danny went in costume as advised by a guerilla theatre movement known as "Billionaires for Bush." There weren't a lot of Kerry supporters, really, but they all seemed to be nice and enthusiastic, excepting a group of mohawked, dyed, chained, and profane seeming-anarchists carrying an American flag with revolutionary dicta written on it. Normally I am a devout proponent of the profane, but when these "hardcore" folk began swearing in front of children exiting the rally and flicking off traffic, well....that's counterproductive, you know?
Anyway, most all of the Kerry supporters left after the Bush motorcade passed by the second time, which was before the 10000 Bushites poured out of Hedgesville High. Chris an Danny, dressed in gaudy formalwear and equipped with ascot, pipe, and cigar, decided that the Billionaires should cross to the high school side of the road and mockingly thank the rallygoers for tax cuts and such. Most of those who spoke to us were benignly and amusingly rude. "You don't know nothin'" or "You don't know what freedom is!" or "You don't know how good you got it, you socialists." (What is so terrible about socialism? Divinity, how I loathe those White, sunburned, Republican mouthpieces.) Our venture into enemy territory only became REALLY scary when a gangly, spook-eyed redneck angrily approached us, gulping through his cigarette, growling, "I don't give a fuck if the police are here. You have no fucking right to fucking do this. This isn't your turn." Yadda, yadda, yadda. After intentionally giving Danny the stone shoulder- almost knocking him down- , the man bellowed ciggy smoke Chris's face, eye to eye and 3 inches between noses. This angry man's charming wife then came over, feathers ruffled, and said much of the same to Keri, including calling her a "faggot" (hmmmmm.....), and also blowing smoke. After bandying a few more words, the man threw his cigarette at Chris's face and the woman chucked her drink on Keri. These people sound like real winners, no? Well, I looked behind them to see their daughter, Jefferson's own Haley Hathaway, pacing and encouraging her damned parents. Referring to us, "Really, this isn't the right time, guys. You shouldn't be doing this." Since when the fuck is there an appropriate time for protest? Riddle me that, you American stains.
Hmmm....What more? NewSong was...different from last year. I think mom's job as Coordinator of Volunteers was less hectic, but mine as Coordinator of Lodging was more nettling. Gar kept giving me more and more people to house in the 11th hour and into the festival, until every damned nook at Claymont was occupied by a sleeping body. As a cost-cutting tactic, there wasn't a "real" headliner this year, as opposed to having two last year. When will those damned founders find middle ground? One spectacular detail of this year's festival was getting to hear Devon Sproule play several times, as well as conversing with her and buying a second CD of hers. She is quite amazing, as is her betrothed, Paul Curreri. Susan, a volunteer whom mom and I both enjoyed very much at the festival, described Paul as the male version of Devon musically. And Paul is going to play in Cambridge soon after I get there. Cooooooooooool.
Went to a "We Love Jimmy Buffet & Good-Bye to Summer" party at Beth's house. She is such a wonderfully nice person. I would wish that she were my madrastra, but I wouldn't want her to have to endure dad. Brittany was there, but things are still different from the good ole' days of childhood. I am going to try and resurrect our closeness via e-mail, though. Talked about Harvard a lot at the party, as with all occasions. Had wonderful political discussions with....Dave?...Pastor Helen's husband.
Several Nutter's runs have occured, crowds varying with Tab, Suzie (before she left!), Taylor, and Claire. Ah! How lonely it has been with WVU folks gone. Sara left for Amherst on Saturday...and Jona for Brown. Jennifer is the only one left, but that is hardly consolation. I will miss Sara some, because she is such an innocent intellectual, but Jennifer? The antithesis of humanity brings little comfort. I've been telling people for so long that I won't be leaving until after eveyone else. Cory was surprised when I said that I'd be gone this Saturday. Did people expect me to stick around? I think some (Dee for instance) keep seeing me periodically and assume that I am not really going to college at all. The truth is... even WVU rejected me, so I just decided to live a stupendous lie. Ah, the rationale of the human mind.
How I envy WVU'ers and Shepherd folks and Winchester buddies and Serena at Tulane and Amanda at CMU and so on and so on....They've all BEGUN there freshman year. They've conquered the initial terrors and discomforts. They are on the way to establishing habit and....I am nowhere.
Packing is banal and all too concrete. I made major progress Monday in terms of sealing away the bulk of my clothes (only to break into them again). I did little tonight....or last night. Miniscule rebellion, I suppose. Speaking of reacting poorly to leaving...I've taken to being extremely mean to my mother. She caught on, though, and called me on my semi-subconscious plot to try and piss everyone off...to make my leaving seem less of an issue. I don't know how my dad feels, or if I will even have a dinner with him or anything later this week. He'll probably just call and we'll hang up with an unfamiliar "Okey doke." Ah, life! I found a letter on my pillow this evening. It was from mom, and the first line read, "I don't want to embarass you in the airport, so I will say all this now...." Yadda, yadda. I put it back down. I don't want to think about...what I should be thinking about.
I won't have my computer for a week! While I'm doing Dorm Crew stuff before orientation begins, I will be in temporary housing, and, being the overly cautious young man that I am, I don't want to risk bringing my laptop up with me. Mom will haul it with the rest of my stuff when she comes up for move-in day. I suppose I am looking forward to meeting my roommates. But, then again, if they are not as pleasant as they seem on AIM and in e-mails, I will have my lovely single as a fortress of hermitude.
Sarah Fitzgerald, how I appreciate your pep and encouragement! I will give you my undivided devotion when you visit meeeee.
My life seems terribly pitiful when packed into rubber tubs and cardboard coaches.
"I am hasty for you, you fast statue."
Jordan