George Carlin the Wise

"Inside every cynical person, there is a disappointed idealist." - George Carlin

Coffee vs. Me

Today I realized that I got my ass kicked by a cup of coffee. And not just any coffee. Starbucks' Pumpkin Spice Frappe, small-sized (I still don't remember what they call their portions).

It started out innocently enough. I woke up late. I took too long in the shower. I got dressed slowly. I thought for sure I would be fifteen minutes later to work than normal.

But what do you know it, Mr. Friday was looking down on me and I found myself ahead of schedule while driving to work. So, being the typical, early twenties, late-night creature that seem to have broke into this world in the late 1980s, I went in search of the only substance that is acceptable at 7:15 am: coffee.

I eventually found a Starbucks and purchased my favorite (and really, only enjoyable drink) coffee/dessert/insulin beverage from the institution: a Pumpkin Spice Frappuccino.

Needless to say, it was so good I scraped the front of my car parking at a nearby Dunkin' Donuts for a last minute gift for Boss' Day AND parked crooked I was in such a hurry to get back to frozen heaven. And the coffee continued to be good for the hour and a half I managed to make it last. I would have licked the insides of the cup if I didn't sit right in front of my boss' door.

I didn't know at the time, however, but the minute the last of the coffee disappeared down my esophagus, the trouble began. You see, coffee has this bad habit of sticking around in my blood system, joyriding your brain into thinking that I've either ingested speed or am a bastard child of the Flash. And I fall for it every time.

Naturally, this state never announces when it's done. At noon, I found myself falling asleep over the keyboard. I stretched, sat up, sat on my foot, pumped up the music, eat more food, and went outside, all in the span of a few minutes in an attempt to stay awake. But it was no use. It was either drink more coffee or tough it out.

There's no getting around it. You drink the coffee and remember how good it tastes, and crave it when you don't have it. But when you do have it, you always run into that midday wall and then either have to suffer in a seemingly never-ending battle with your eyelids or you get more coffee. Only to hit another wall later on.

It's a vicious cycle that gets me every time, yet I still drink coffee. And it's still delicious. And I know I'll be returning to embrace coffee once more on Monday morning. I didn't know whether to feel like a true hero for going forward or like an addict. And as I walked out of the office today, still feeling like I was going to drop dead and die on the asphalt before walking the fifty feet to my car, I realized something:

Coffee always makes you its bitch.

Play It Again!

Does anyone else have those songs that they can listen to 100 million times in a row? I go through cycles where I latch onto a song like a hungry lampray and replay it until the button on my mp3 player and car stereo are devoid of any indication that there was a tiny "replay" written on the button.

I'm lucky that most of my driving time is by myself or with my sisters (who do the same thing), where I can indulge in my habit and overkill the song to my heart's content. Otherwise I think my passengers would kill me or the radio after hearing One Republic's "Secrets" after the third play.

I never really thought of myself as a visual person until just recently, most of the way into my film degree. I found myself becoming more conscious of the fact that I daydream. A lot. In fact, sometimes I lose focus on what people are saying.

Example:

Me: Hey! How is the new job going?

Friend: Oh, my job as a night janitor at the elementary school? It's great! The other day, I scraped off the biggest gum wad you'd ever seen, and...

Me: (thinking) I wonder what would happen if a janitor faced off with giant, sentient gum wads while cleaning a science class room. The gum would be all green, because we all know that science classrooms use radioactive material on a regular basis, and it would be avenging the death of it's long lost grape gum love...

Friend: How are you?

Me: (thinking) And then, the janitor would have to defend himself from the supply closet, using his mop bucket to mix up a death-inducing chemical that breaks up the gum and creates gum-liquid-no, that's gross. What if it just melted like the Wicked Witch of the West? That could be pretty awesome.

Friend: ...

This happens frequently. And often with music. When I get a clear image of something from a song's lyrics or tune, I have to listen to that inspiration over and over until I get a crystal clear, unforgettable image of that scene, character, or emotion. Ok, so I still manage to forget some of them, but more often than not the image will stay and I remember it for days to come.

I love how music can conjure such imaginings with just at tune. And I find that it doesn't necessarily matter what type of music it is. I've found inspiration in Schubert's "Ave Maria" and Ke$ha's "Take It Off". And don't get me started on Queen's "Bohemian Rhaposdy". Why they didn't do a music video with the amazing story in that song, I'll never understand!

And what's even more fun, to me, is that songs can inspire different images from the genre they're in. Look at all the parodies using the theme from "2001: A Space Odyssey", or "Flight of the Valkyrie". I mean, when I listen to One Republic's "Secrets" (a current obsession), I picture a character who identifies closely with the line of "Don't let me disappear". For Tao Cruiz's "Heartbreaker" I see a glamorous and confident movie star who manages to fall in love with her assistant, despite her belief she won't.

Are some of my imaginings cheesy? Yes. Yet they're still my brain babies and I love them while they last. Sometimes they turn out well and sometimes they hang out with the wrong crowd, get addicted to speed, and turn out to be leeches. But another song will come along and spawn another little inkling. And since I think art is sometimes a matter of luck in regards to what turns out to be good, it can't hurt to explore options.

And listen to the same song, over and over again.

My Rainbow Hat

So evidently my rainbow, woven hat that I brought back from New Zealand is famous. That's right, lower left hand corner, on the bed post. EXACTLY THE SAME. My sisters say it's still ugly and a sin upon the fashion industry. But they're just jealous.

An Internet Joke From My E-Mail (In Light of Current Government Mockings)

A major research institution (MRI) has recently announced the discovery of the heaviest chemical element yet known to science. The new element has been tentatively named Governmentium.

Governmentium has 1 neutron, 12 assistant neutrons, 75 deputy neutrons, and 224 assistant deputy neutrons, giving it an atomic mass of 312. These 312 particles are held together by forces called morons, which are surrounded by vast quantities of lepton-like particles called peons.

Since Governmentium has no electrons, it is inert. However, it can be detected as it impedes every reaction with which it comes into contact. A minute amount of Governmentium causes one reaction to take over four days to complete when it would normally take less than a second.

Governmentium has a normal half-life of three years; it does not decay, but instead undergoes a reorganization in which a portion of the assistant neutrons and deputy neutrons exchange places. In fact, Governmentium's mass will actually increase over time, since each reorganization will cause some morons to become neutrons, forming isodopes.

This characteristic of moron-promotion leads some scientists to speculate that Governmentium is formed whenever morons reach a certain quantity in concentration. This hypothetical quantity is referred to as Critical Morass.

Progression of Brilliance

I have a presentation due on Friday in which I am supposed to talk about Islamic opposition groups in Egypt over the past 10 years. After meticulously searching to find the best (free) Egypt-themed template I could find on the Internet, I have now settled down to write out the content. About an hour later, this is what I have:



I might be in trouble.

Daylight Savings Time

I could write about how busy I've been or how I am now enrolled in a 7:30AM Precalculus class over the first half of summer just so I can take a SECOND math class the second half of summer to fulfill graduation requirements - but instead, I'll talk about daylight savings time. Mostly because the old man next to me on this somewhat-plush airport bench explained it wrong to the guy next to him.

Why do we still have daylight savings time? Just because everyone else has it doesn't mean it's a good idea. It's like the cliche example of the bridge and everyone else doing it. I've heard various rumors about which USA states do and don't observe DST, as I like to call it, and here's the verdict, thanks to the ever reliable answerbag.com:

Who Doesn't: Arizona, Eastern Indiana, Hawaii, and bunch of small islands that we probably shouldn't be occupying

Who Does: Everyone else, including the Navajo Nation (for those who don't live in the USA, yes, it's a nation, even if they don't really have any benefits)

So perhaps I'm in the minority when it comes to my opinion on DST, but still, why? What is the advantage of having one more hour of sun in the morning? I fail to see the advantage of having to remember when to set my clocks forward and back. So what if it's dark outside when I wake up? Unless that hour of extra sun is going to appear with a hot, sugary coffee beverage, drop-dead gorgeous cabana boy, and/or a purring and welcoming (and adorable) cat, that extra hour of sun isn't going to make 6AM-8AM seem anymore of a reasonable hour to wake up.

And what's up with it getting dark at 5PM in the winter? Winter is the ONLY time of year you can reliable go outside in the desert. I thus lose an hour of whatever it is I do after dark outside in the winter. Ok, I admit, I am usually sleeping or playing on the computer, but I hate having options denied me!

What is the solution for those who are die-hard DST fans (I see you, rural farming types in the middle of nowhere)? We can do an Alaskan and implant HUGE UV lights all around the fields where people work. If we use wind power, which is supposedly going to single-handedly save the world, we can be green about our energy use and help farmers get up in the morning. The rest of us can enjoy our hour of light at night and play shuffleboard or sharpen our sticks to lay out for the incoming zombie horde (don't deny it, the living dead are nigh!).

This is why we should all follow Arizona's lead. Sure, it takes some getting used to, being on Mountain Time in the winter and Pacific Standard Time in the summer, but if everyone just stops with this DST fascination, then Arizona can stop confusing older men on airport benches and remain on Pacific Standard Time. The world will thank us, or at least my relatives in Colorado and friends in California will! And Arizonans will be pleased because we won't have to keep missing our television shows around the DST change times.

Thus, DST is old fashioned and out of fashion. Let's get rid of it and actually stick with a time.

Old School

Today, I have transcended to a new level of being as a film student. It required sinking to a new level of technology that many may not be proud of, or even remember. Yet it was an emotional journey of nostalgia, and a reliving of how things have changed. It's a reminder of where I come from, and where my field has progressed and is progressing. I feel that I may have old taste, or perhaps unsophisticated taste, and that I may be unorthodox in my choice of entertainment. But what can I say?

I love VHS tapes.

Why I'm Fat

I think I've discovered the reason why people eat at midnight. Or at least why I do. I'm not sure who came up with the idea of "Man vs. Food", but right now I'm watching a gooey, delicious cheeseburger fill the television screen. And if it wasn't 12:14am, I would be making a cheeseburger on the stove top.

I'm still tempted. I just don't want to be called fat by the little voice inside my head that keeps me thinking straight.

That, and I already ate some mixed nuts and a Tim-Tam.

But really, I think the Travel Channel has made a nefarious deal with the Food Network to get people to eat more, and become more obsessed with food, causing them those who watch the Travel Channel to watch the Food Network channel.

No wonder America's fat.

All I want to do is travel, and I'm bombarded by shows displaying all the greasy, fatty, yet delicious places to eat along the way. Then, when I'm depressed because I resemble a car tire, I watch the Travel Channel, dreaming about the places I want to go. And when I'm too fat to leave the house, I watch the Food Network to learn how to make pizza out of the few ingredients I can pay off the neighborhood kids to hand me through the kitchen window.

Curse you, cable television, curse you.

I guess my only choice to avoid this sad fate is to turn off the television and go to bed. Which means closing down my project (talking on Facebook) and shutting down the computer to go up to a cold bed. ...Now I see why I watch this show this late at night.

One final statement on food: bacon makes everything better. It goes on almost everything (and when I say almost, I mean it really doesn't go with fruit - sorry, it just doesn't). And it's delicious. This year, consider bacon as an alternative to your Christmas dinner protein.