A Joke Inside a Joke Inside A...

I have been a lazy, lazy blogger. For this there are no excuses, only explanations. I honestly feel like the well has run dry and, while there are some things, two specifically, I have wanted to write about, I have not. Instead I have posted the following video, which just goes to show what a vaudevillian freak show the Internet has become. There is no other space for crap like this. It's a joke upon a joke. The fact that this has shown up on the front page of Slate.com only underscores my point. We're supposed to take this seriously? If you can do everything, why do anything?

Oh, Dark Knight, I had High Hopes

Zlatan (Swedish Soccer star), Uma and that Guy From House

Clearly Zlatan is not going anywhere at Inter Milan, even with the new coach coming in and potentially bringing over all his darlings from Chelsea. This may be an example of how athletes are prized by their clubs as much for their "star power" as for their skill and athleticism. The drama of star athletes. Just look at Beckham! That advertising whore.

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If it goes like that, it also goes like...

this. Is this what McCain thought of when he dreamed up campain finance reform? I know I am just an insignificant high school teacher, but isn't it fair to ask that you don't take money from people who not only exploit farmers in the banana trade but also those who don't crumble and hand over wads of cash to Columbian terrorists as defined by the very government you claim to want to lead? Just a thought.

And so it goes...

as mentioned before. McCain has a temper and is erratic and should not be in office.

Life at a Standstill Moving Right Along

Summertime, that rich luxurious time for teachers, breeds a whole new sense of self. One has the distinct pleasure of swimming through time, taking deep breaths to build up one's stamina for the future and feel the hydraulic push and pull of moments coming and going. I am completely lost in myself without the distractions of a school schedule, living each moment without the least bit of self-consciousness. Like working for oneself, to benefit oneself. I imagine that these times are what Aristotle alluded to when he spoke of pure contemplation (my phrasing, not his; my volumes of collected works are buried in the crawlspace). To not feel crushed in the machinations of duty. I wish I could share this feeling with the world! I think it would be a much better place if I could.

Recently I've been indulging in some new music, namely the reissue of Mogwai's Young Team, Sigur Ros' new one Med Sud I Eyrum Vid Spilum Endalaustm and the most recent Andrew Bird Armchair Apocrypha. I had promised myself that I wouldn't invest in so many albums... But here I am again. All three have their own rewards, but I really like the joyful mood of the Sigur Ros and the dirging metal grind of the Mogwai. Life would be as dull as door sills without the extremes to un/balance us all out.

With Euro 2008 having slowed to a creaking halt of a bore-fest final, I have to find new ways to regulate my time and keep myself on some sort of schedule; yet at the same time, I want to feel like I have lived it up a bit this summer so I don't feel cheated when I return to school in the fall. Easier said than done. Time is and is not on your side.

TS Eliot vs. Portishead

The Wasteland set to a chilling backdrop. This some how defines the meaning of the word appropriate.