Me & The Horse I Rode In On

Monday, September 27, 2004

Schoolio Yo'

I'm getting learned. My first class was today at our wonderful University of Oregon. Philosophy 101, instructed by Mark Johnson, is going to kick ass. Philosophy is definately a subject where one could get severely uninterested if the professor isn't glad to be there. It's so unfortunate when that happens - you go to class, get your little notebook and pencil ready and are fully prepared to have your mind expanded, and before you know it you're looking at the clock every three seconds. Happily for me, this won't be one of "those" classes. Mark is obviously in love with his subject, he's articulate and easy to follow and I'm going to have a supberb time. I'll meet my discussion group leader on Friday, a.k.a. the Graduate Student Teacher (or GTF, short for Gregarious Tractor Field). I was so inspired to be on campus today, rubbing elbows with the Eugene Intelligencia (a.k.a. les professeurs)and the infant freshman... it was truly fantastic. I am probably one of the oldest people in my class, which is great because I'm gonna wreck the curve for these little party animals. Good thing I got that out of my system the first time I went to college (and BOY was [[insert random drug]] in my system!!). Today, we were going over nothing serious, the course syllabus, some philosophical terms, whatever. But the girl in front of me managed to take down four full pages of notes. She was writing down EVERYTHING the professor said. I feel sorry for her hand. I've already completed Wednesday's reading, because after dealing with my fun financial aid situation I had some extra time (fill out this paper, send out that form, apply to this online, sit down stand up fight fight fight!!). Cribbage tonight. I'm going with full confidence that someone will be skunked by my superior playing capabilities. But now that I've said that I'll probably get skunked every game. DAMN KARMA. Take care, dear reader. Treat yourself to a sensual bath and massage given by the hot, naked gender-of-your-choice.

Thursday, September 23, 2004

Real Music

Robin and I are going to opening night of the Eugene Symphony tonight. Let me rephrase that... we are going to the ULTIMATE MUSICAL EXPERIENCE IN THE UNIVERSE tonight. We shall hear Chopin's Piano Concerto No. 1, the Brahms Symphony No. 2 and Mozart's Abduction From the Seraglio Overture. It would be an understatement to say these pieces of music were unparalleled in their artistic genius. In fact, I cannot accurately describe how amazing these classical pieces are (ALL classical pieces, I mean). As a classically trained pianist, I have a profound appreciation and admiration for this music. I would say that I am literally in LOVE with it. Tonight, I know I will cry during the performance, because I ALWAYS cry at the symphony. It's indescribable how overcome I get with emotion and passion. I FEEL this music. It washes over my body like warm, tropical waves. I cannot relate to modern music like I can to classical. That's not to say I don't like modern music, some of it is great, but most of it can kiss my ever-lovin' ass. Let me start with the "artists"... FUCK YOU IF YOU DON'T THINK UP YOUR OWN MATERIAL, WRITE YOUR OWN MATERIAL, OR HEAVEN FORBID ACTUALLY SING YOUR OWN MATERIAL. FUCK YOU IF YOU ACTUALLY HAVE TALENT BUT MAKE SHITTY MUSIC TO PROMOTE YOUR "IMAGE OF THE WEEK" (Hi Britney! 'Sup Christina?! Big shout out to my man Justin! HAAAAAY!!). KISS MY ASS IF YOUR ONLY CONCERN IS SELLING OUT PERFORMANCES AND STAYING IN 5 STAR HOTELS WHEN YOU VISIT A TOWN. BIIIIIIG FUCK YOU FOR CHARGING $100+ TO SEE YOUR CRAPPY SHOW. YOU ARE NOT ARTISTS! YOU DON'T EVEN COME CLOSE TO BEING AN ARTIST! YOU ARE BOTTOM-DWELLING, SLIME-SUCKING MUSIC IMPOSTERS AND YOU NEED TO FUCK THE FUCK OFF. And now onto the radio stations who play these fuckers... FUCK YOU FOR TAKING PROFIT OVER AUTHENTIC ARTISTRY. FUCK YOU FOR NEVER PLAYING ANYTHING ELSE BUT WHAT YOUR STUPID DEMOGRAPHIC "TELLS" YOU TO PLAY. FUCK YOU FOR TAKING OVER ALL INDEPENDENT RADION STATIONS AND MAKING D.J'S NOTHING MORE THAN RADIO PERSONALITIES. WHAT THE HELL IS A D.J. FOR IF THEY CAN'T EVEN MAKE THEIR OWN PLAYLISTS?? AHHHHHHHHH!!!!! I digress... If you are fortunate enough to have independent radio stations in town, listen to them. If your airwaves haven't been perverted by Clear Channel or Cumulus Communications, consider yourself truly lucky. In my town, the only glimpse we get of originality is on the college station (88.1) and the classical station (91.1). All the rest of them, from rock to pop to country, play the same set of songs over and over and over, based on what is "most popular" in the genre. Embrace artists who think for themselves, write for themselves, and put their soul into their music. See their shows, buy their CD's. GOD BLESS the artists who have integrity and don't sell out and don't sign away their life to some money-hungry label company. YOU are the classical artists of our time. YOU keep the soul of music alive and well. I hope lots of people come to your shows and realize what a gift your artistry is.

Sunday, September 19, 2004

Zee Celebration!

Dancing, eating, carousing, debauchery. These four words not only describe my weekend, they embody it. I have been near comatose for three days now, all thanks to the fabulous party we call the Eugene Celebration. I saw some band on Friday that made me dance my ass off. Then on Saturday, I saw yet another band (the Crazy Eight's) which also made me dance my ass off. Then on Sunday, I went to a barbecue and drank even more. It's all a blur-the colors, the lights, the FANTASTIC PEOPLE. You know, the celebration! It is imperative to understand that Eugene's celebration is like none other I could ever imagine. True, I am not as well-traveled as some of my constituents, but there's NO WAY any "normal" town's celebration could match the true insanity that is MY town's celebration. I live in a place that is not only rich in natural and cultural diversity, but when all the aspects of the town come together and rub elbows... well, that makes for some interesting times. On Saturday, there's the parade (at nine in the morning, after staying out and "having fun" until 2 or so) which is riddled with political satire, mostly hinging on Bush being an incompetent asshole. It was truly funny, with floats that symbolized tropical escapes to floats that were no more than a Datsun with hay glued to it. My favorite parts were PFLAG (we have a large and FUN representation in Eugene), the little kids and their schools (OH MY GOD THE CUTEST YOU HAVE EVER SEEN!!!!) and the "synchronized recliner" team. Those that can kiss my ass include: 1) The radio station "floats" (e.g. The KDUK van with shitty pop music spewing from it's back end). 2) The Evangelical Church's float (SCREAMING preacher with a real person depicting a blood-spattered, destitue Christ figure nailed to the cross). Not so surprisingly, the Republicans of the area didn't have one single entry. NOTHING. So basically (as Sara kindly reminds us), they'll talk loads of shit from their houses, but when it comes to REPRESENTIN', they DON'T SHOW THE FUCK UP!!! HA!!!!! Why not? Because the CRAZY LIBERALS WILL KILL THEM ON SIGHT, THAT'S WHAT! WE'RE JUST A-WAITIN' FOR THEM CONSERVATIVES TO SHOW THEIR FACES SO'S WE'S CAN GIT SCRAPPY!!! Our apartment was Headquarters for the weekend, which made for even more fun (and messes!) and Luna (the kitty) getting all the attention any cat should legally have. Robin and I are tired and weary, but happy that things turned out FUN for everyone. Our friends rock and they know that, but every weekend we spend together only strengthens this fact. Some day, we'll rock so hard that we'll all turn into sparkling diamonds. Or something... Anyway, ta for now. Come to the Eugene Celebration if you're ever in town. It is THE social event of the season! New York, Beverly Hills, eat your hearts out.

Friday, September 03, 2004

Oregon Splendor

For those of you who haven't experienced the majesty that is the Northwest, I am truly sorry. If you prefer concrete, glass and exhaust to perfect nature.... get your fucking head checked. I am with dear friends not far from Tillamook (Oregon), at a slice of Eden we call the Riverhouse. This is my first time here and truly, it is one of my favorites. Sara's dad owns a house on the Wilson River, which is far less cold than the McKenzie but not as warm as the Willamette (not that I recommend swimming in that vile pile of bile). We visited the Tillamook Cheese factory today, viewed the wrapping machinery, ate samples, bought lots of INCREDIBLE cheese, ate ice cream and got stomach aches. The digestive price of dairy is minute compared to it's creamy and tasty bounty. Personally, I bought an 8 oz. block of the Vintage White Cheddar (aged over two years), which in the supermarket will cost $5 or more. Ouch. A trip to the factory only made this slightly less expensive, but a deal's a deal... right? We then stopped at Frederick of the Meyer, then the liquor store and now we're back. I wansn't going to rant as much as I though on this blog posting, but my weekend is about to be insanely fun and I just can't keep it inside. I wasn't brave enough to forage into the partially-freezing waters but tomorrow will be a different story. Casa Bonita, my family's cabin (in Yachats), Bend, the hot springs... if you can find a more diverse range of perfect nature in one state, you go for it! But you won't. So don't try. Adam and Eve didn't live anywhere near the middle east, they were right here. HA!

Thursday, September 02, 2004

My very own blog!

It is with unbridled excitement that I type my first blog entry. As a person of many many words, this is surely the perfect medium for all kinds of ridiculous expression. Robin turned me on (hee hee) to the world of blogging, for which I am eternally grateful. I will be starting school in a few short weeks. After a three-year hiatus, I have decided to focus on the field of philosophy, which I will end up teaching some day. This means obtaining a PhD, which is no small task, but really... what the hell would I do with a Bachelors in philosophy? Or even a Masters for that matter. It is unfortunate that my piece of paper will require 8 more years of life and countless tens of thousands of dollars. But in the end I'll be able to teach a subject near and dear to my heart and get paid for it (summer sessions off and sabbatical won't be too shabby, either)! Hopefully the current administration won't fuck our world up so badly that we'll still be her in 8 years. Starting at the bottom, I'll be studying Socrates and other Greeks in my first few classes. We'll move up to Descartes, Kant... and then... Metaphysics. Woo hoo! The science of looking beyond the visible is my favorite. Beyond time, meaning, chaos and spirituality, lies the truth. I am not going to find THE TRUTH. No one is. But asking question after question and expanding my mind beyond reason sounds only too enticing. I'll let you know how it turns out.