the real issues

If ever a journalist should be applauded for tackling the real concerns facing America today...

it's like that

You know that movie "The Gods Must Be Crazy"?

Well this was my life then.

And this is my life right now.

And I don't even like coke...

how far is too far?

I'll be the first to admit that I am pretty fond of Harry Potter, but I am also fond of Garfield, and I don't spend hours and hours debating the nuances of his syntax and activities with Harvard Grads. For one thing, he is a paradoxically fat, yet ossifying feline who hardly ever forms a particularly remarkable sentence, and for another, WHAT IS THE POINT?!?!?

So imagine--when in preparation for my midnight marathon tonight--I googled a summary of Book Five to freshen up my memory of the storyline, only to discover that SPARKNOTES does Harry Potter!

I LOVE Sparknotes when it comes to completely avoiding Beowulf, or for help analyzing Heart of Darkness (?), but who honestly thought that someone with the brains to tackle those would spend the time playing Freud to a CHILD'S FANTASY book?

"The writers of SparkNotes are top students or recent graduates who specialize in the subjects they cover" only the "how to cite this" page doesn't just list Life, Greta as the author, it lists the entire Sparknotes Staff, who are all apparently experts (after seeing their pictures that's not so surprising, I guess).

Knowing that, I'm not sure why I was then furthur surprised when I googled the Cruciatus Curse because I couldn't remember what it was only to find this piece of work:

http://www.hippie.nu/~caniche/Death_Eater/Crucio.html

But suprised I was, only now I'm not sure if it was the intense work behind that Harvard Degree or the competition to become head honcho at the office that produced this kind of wacko.

What is the world coming to?

generation blech

Have you ever seen someone of a younger generation, or at least a younger member of your generation (i.e. sibling, sibling's friends, youngish looking strangers, etc.) participating in something so completely ridiculous and wrong that you breathe a somewhat self-righteous sigh of relief knowing that you never, ever, EVER did something like that?


Only to belatedly remember with gut-wrenching shame that once, in your deep, dark and hopelessly naive past, you did?

Two words people: banana clips.

Need I say more?

a short film...

The answer to another one of those mysteries of the universe:

http://albinoblacksheep.com/flash/aw.php

liminality.

Picture a young, carefree girl, captivated by the magical worlds of Ariel, Aurora, and Belle, who finds in a grocery store one of the products a more jaded individual would see as the monetary-motivated marketing schemes of the corporate board of directors behind these stories.

But to this girl, the blue plastic sunglasses with a princess decal seem to offer a chance to see the world as that princess must see it. So she eagerly puts a pair on and glances quickly around for a mirror to see if the miraculous transformation has taken place.

POP! That's the sound of this girl's bubble bursting when she sees that the mirror is located approximately waist-level-- perfect height for a girl of six or seven, but ridiculously out of reach for a twenty-year-old. The girl sees no choice but to bend down on her pre-arthritic knees only to see herself looking ridiculous in a few-sizes-too-small pair of glasses.

Despondently (between fits of laughter), she heads to the register sans glasses. And spots the fireworks. Okay, so age does have its privileges (:

But the victory is temporary when weighed against the aging discussions about soon-to-be-returning missionaries and soon-to-be-married friends.

So the girl goes home feeling tired and worn, only to find a note on her pillow saying: "It's 12:30 almost. Will you come wake me up when you see this so I know you made it home? Thanks. Love, La"

There's nothing like the love and concern of a little sister to blow that bubble right back up again.

overdose.

So my grandma keeps a bag of Dove Promises in her kitchen cupboard, purely for medicinal reasons, of course.

So I decided it was in my best interest to eat some. As it was close to dinner time, I limited myself to three.

So I opened and ate the first two, reading the generic "You're a wonderful person...blah...blah...blah..." messages on the wrappers. Touching.

Then I opened the last one. It said "Test your limits and keep going."


Who am I to argue with the Powers That Be?

bad news.

my left eye is falling out.

blindness is no doubt inevitable.

i'm going to have a lie-down in an attempt to suck it back in.

Mmm. Mmm. Good.