October 29, 2003
What I imagine it's like to be Kim J
Last night my Astronomy professor, who is young and new to his trade, brought candy for the class as sort of a pre-emptive apology for next week's midterm. All through the lecture, I watched the teeny tiny skater boys in front of me dropping stick after stick from their Tootsie Pops (tm) on the floor for someone else to pick up later. I was enraged. So enraged that I failed to gain a proper understanding of triangulation. Finally, one of them dropped his stick and I kicked the back of his chair so hard that his head snapped forward a little bit. He turned around.
"Oops," I said sweetly.
I got over the thrill of dropping stuff on the ground when I was about eight months old. It is sad to see that the youth of today is so spiritually stunted. And suffering slightly from whiplash.
Posted by didofoot at 11:11 AM | Comments (8)
October 24, 2003
My plastic elastic head
It's tough to wrap my plastic elastic head around this "forever" concept. I keep thinking, Oh God, it's so sad, Elliott Smith is dead and there will be no more music. But then I comfort myself by thinking, At least there will be music again when he stops being dead.
Posted by didofoot at 09:13 AM | Comments (5)
October 22, 2003
Yeah, I heard.
Thanks to everyone who saw the news and thought to let me know.
Posted by didofoot at 12:54 PM | Comments (2)
October 20, 2003
Recent Protests
Sources close to the White Apartment have reported that domestic discontent is on the rise. The Nation of Me's controversial hug sanctions of July have given rise to increasing malcontentism and schizophrenia among the citizen of the Nation of Me.
A large crowd of demonstrators gathered in the Left Brain on Saturday at the UN (Ultimate Nativity) meeting to protest the sanctions. The crowd became more and more incensed as leader after leader of allied nations arrived at the meeting bearing gifts of fruit and baked goods, and were greeted with a cold smile rather than a welcoming hug.
"We believe that the government needs to reconsider its position," said one anonymous demonstrator. "The nation's position on hugging is absurd and Unme-ian. I mean, I deplore being groped without an invitation as much as the next guy, but I don't think we should let one incident at a party in college color our whole foreign policy, you know?"
The demonstrators became increasingly more obstreperous as the day wore on, and at around 7 pm demonstrators swarmed over police barricades and enacted two separate hugs with the citizen of allied nation Melanie Schauwecker.
Demonstrators went on to vandalize several local businesses, while chanting "Starbucks out of the Cerebellum!"
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Posted by didofoot at 09:10 AM | Comments (3)
October 15, 2003
Uh huh.
"And if you go way, way back in ancient Chinese texts, you find references to this all over the place," said my cowboy boss. "It's the reason that Chinese people tend to have a bigger gap between their thumbs and first fingers."
"So, what you're telling me is..."
"Way back in B.C., Chinese people had six fingers on each hand."
Posted by didofoot at 12:32 PM | Comments (1)
October 03, 2003
A small, surly gnome
Written in response to this article, which really should be read first.
Will teens stop using electricity?
I first heard about using my parents' electricity in middle school. Up until that point, I had assumed that my television and toaster were being run by a small, surly gnome that lived in the wall. But in sixth grade one of my friends, who also frequently used his parents' electricity, explained the process to me. It turned out that pretty much all the kids I knew were using their parents' electricity on a regular basis.
At first it didn't seem like a big deal to me. But I soon realized that using my parents' electricity was addictive. In fact, electricity was an electronics-addict's heaven. With electricity, you could do anything from turning on a light in your house to turning on all the lights in your house, whenever you wanted.
At first, it seemed that using my parents' electricity wasn't a problem. My peers had grown up using their parents' electricity and had never been forced to read by candlelight or wash their clothes on a rock in the stream. Because it is so prevalent, it seemed natural to me that it would also be free.
But it shouldn't be free. Nothing should be free, ever. And parents are beginning to fight back, by nagging their kids all the time to turn off the lights they're not using. Among the targets of this nagging was a 12-year-old girl.
This is not the way to solve the problem. While I agree it is important to protect your parents from declaring bankruptcy due to crippling electric bills, I am afraid that the threatening message that parents are sending to teenagers will not achieve its goals. Worse, the threat is counterproductive.
Rather than following the demands of their parents, teens simply will stop using electricity altogether. They will begin building small fires in their bedrooms to toast their pop-tarts over, and they will probably build some kind of cranking device to run their computers on; I don't know, something. Although nagging isn't life-threatening or really even a big deal, it's still annoying -- too annoying to put up with, that's for sure.
Despite the fact that parents are willing to permit teens to use electricity in exchange for being nagged about it, parents do not understand that if you are going to be nagged then you might as well just get your own damn apartment and pay for the electricity yourself. If parents would quit nagging all the damn time, maybe we would have some time to turn off the damn lights, we were just about to do it, jeez.
Wishful thinking? Hardly. Some single parents who are working two jobs have reduced their nagging to only twice a week. And I may some day find a parent who only nags once a semester.
Although this idea sounds different, it is certainly feasible. Who knows?:
When my parents lighten the fuck up, I might finally turn the lights back on and quit banging my shins against my desk chair all the damn time.
Didofoot, 23, is sophomoric at SF State.
Posted by didofoot at 11:37 AM | Comments (0)
October 01, 2003
Ballad for Brian Danny (a.k.a. Dick Bag, Jr.)
The Asian You
I dreamt of you last night
You had gotten in a fight
But you used your barbed-wire bangs to win the day
Today out of the blue
This Chinese guy looked just like you
I guess I saw the Asian you today
CHORUS:
Yes, I know you're Caucasian
But you do look like this Asian
And this Asian on occasion looks like you
It really was alarming
He was half as tall, but nothing's arming
Me against this charming Asian you
His eyes wide in their sockets
His cheeks were empty pockets
He did that starving model look you do
I couldn't look away
I didn't know quite what to say
I stared back at the lovely Asian you
I know I said I'd take
Your old guitar from your apartment mates
And keep it safe while you are out of town
But I never did go get it
And this Asian won't let me forget it
Now I guess I'll have to take him down
This will be a double sin
First your stuff and then your twin
But the guilt is really eating me away
And you know I miss you, Bri
But your foreign fetch must die
I guess I killed the Asian you today
FINAL CHORUS:
Though I know that you're Caucasian
Could it be you're half Malaysian?
Cause this Asian's really brazenly like you
I sure hope you're not back sooner
Than you said, or I killed Dick Bag, Jr.
'Stead of just amazin' Asian you
Posted by didofoot at 01:54 PM | Comments (7)
