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I'm sitting here listening to Yann Tiersen's soundtrack to Goodbye Lenin!, and I can't for the life of me figure out why I haven't seen this movie yet. It's fantastic music. Tiersen is amazing, team. Awesome. If you haven't heard his stuff, you really ought to. Go dredge it up on imeem or Pandora or something. Or go watch Goodbye Lenin! or Amelie or something. You won't regret it.

No one out there happens to have a copy of Goodbye Lenin!, do they?

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Elder Carp update - apparently he was backing out of a Subway restaurant and hit his companion with the car.

Residents of Miami, lock your doors and stay inside until he gets transferred.

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I'm sitting here at work playing with a spreadsheet, and it turns out that my right foot is sweaty. Just my right foot, though. My left foot is still nice and dry. I tried taking off my shoes to help air out my feet, but that didn't seem to do a whole lot. It's the weirdest thing. I'm completely at a loss.

And why did I feel the need to post something like this publicly? These are the sorts of questions that are better left unasked.

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Gaaah! We just finished watching the first season of How I Met Your Mother on DVD, and Marshall and Lily just broke up! They were engaged! For like years and years! And Ted and Robyn hooked up! Freaking finally! And now we don't know what happens because we don't have the second season! WE DON'T HAVE THE NEXT SEASON! GAAAAAAH!!!!!

In conclusion, TV on DVD is a bad thing because it removes the need for patience.

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This is a little early for Pi Day (3/14), but I'll post it anyway so everyone can start getting ready:



On Pi Day, you eat pie. It's as simple as that. I routinely celebrate the day with my roommates. One year, we even made it a point to each eat a radian's worth of pie. Marvelous stuff. I'll be sure to recognize the holiday this year. Don't you be caught unaware. Purchase your pie today.

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At work today, I was notified of a sad incident in which three LDS missionaries are being prosecuted on vandalism charges after photos surfaced online picturing them defacing a Catholic church. Apparently the missionaries were seen pretending to preach from an altar and holding up a statue with its head broken off. The full story can be seen here.

Obvious remarks about taking your calling seriously aside, this brings up the two most important rules of crime:

1. If you're really going to insist on committing a crime, don't document yourself doing it. This includes photos, videos, memos, and so on. (Applicable to something as small as vandalism to something as large as Watergate.)
   
2. If you decide to ignore Rule 1, don't post the information publicly. Especially not on the Internet.

I'm not sure whether to be happy or sad that we live in a world with so many stupid criminals in it. On the one hand, I'd be happy for them if they were at least intelligent enough to get away with something as simple as this, but then again, I'm not so sure I'd like to have more intelligent criminals running around.

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Stupid Ohio.

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My co-worker presented a number problem to me today. I need to find seven unique digits arranged in an H-shape whose products are the same in each row or column.




I think I might go insane trying to figure this one out. I've been working on it and plugging in numbers like a crazy person. Gaah.

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At the behest of Uffish Thought, I created a Facebook profile under a fake name so I could see what it was like. (The name was "Lordship Counties," being the first two words that came into my head.) I poked around and uploaded some honeymoon pictures, but wasn't quite sure if I wanted to stay or not. It turned out that a few people had gotten word that I'd joined, though, and enough people had added me as a friend that I decided to stick around. I even changed my name back.

And so now here I am. And it turns out that I was probably right to stay away for so long. It doesn't interest me at all. I plan on leaving it up as an online photo album (I've uploaded pictures of the wedding, the honeymoon, and the reception), but I doubt I'll ever do anything more with it. I had a whole diatribe prepared of things that I don't like about it and find to be vapid and pointless, but ranting about it just after I joined it feels a bit childish to me. I won't make fun of it.

Maybe it's just me. It just doesn't seem interesting at all. Then again, I've never seen the point of text messaging, either. Maybe there's some part of the collective unconscious mind that I haven't tapped into yet.

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I spent this afternoon eating tacos, assembling a jigsaw puzzle about the United States and its presidents (while talking presidential trivia with Genuine.), playing chess on my computer, and then baking some cookies.

There's no way life could be better than this. Serious. This is way better than I could have dreamed.

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While I've had a lot of politically-themed things to say lately, I'm aware that it's not really everyone's cup of tea. flippin, Thirdmango and I have decided to create a webzine that will give me an outlet to say all of those sorts of things on. For those of you interested, you are invited to check out the Weorld Wide Worb. For those of you less interested, you are invited to stick around here and watch this neat video I found today:

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High on my list of good ideas today: purchasing a charbroiled chicken salad from Carl's, Jr. I would have included a picture, but there weren't any online that did it justice.

It was pretty good, though. Mmmm.

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bawb's comment on my previous post reminded me of something I haven't really thought about in a while - Intrade.com. Intrade works essentially as a stock market, only instead of shares of stock, futures are sold. Traders purchase a contract for a set price. If the terms of that contract are met, then it pays out $100; if not, the contract pays out nothing. For example, one might buy a future on No Country For Old Men. The asking price is currently just under $64. If the film wins the Oscar for Best Picture, the future pays out $100; otherwise, the buyer earns nothing. The market tends to be a more accurate predictor than polling is, for the simple reason that people tend to be more honest when their money is on the line.

bawb pointed out that the future on Hillary Clinton winning the Democratic presidential nomination is trading at 24.7 right now. That's a far cry from the 44% she's polling in national surveys. Essentially, while 44% of those polled said they prefer Clinton as a candidate, the average person would only be willing to pay just under $25 on a contract that could potentially pay out $100. On the flip side, Barack Obama futures are trading at 74.7.

That's not to say that this is a fail-safe method for predicting the nominee. Obama futures were trading at just over 30 only a couple of weeks ago. Just like the real stock market, seemingly small events can have a significant impact on the market. (This isn't the best place to invest your life savings.) But while it isn't perfect, it's certainly a compelling new way to look at the election. With their own money on the line, people are far more likely to back Obama than Clinton.

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For those of you not persuaded by my call to become an informed voter, I offer the following as a naked attempt at sheer image and brand loyalty.




Doesn't that get your spirit going? I don't know about you, but I'll be chanting "yes we can" all day.

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An appalling number of voters are making uninformed choices this year. Many people are voting based on whose image they prefer, rather than what that person might do if elected president. As an informed voter, this concerns me; I'd hate to see my vote drowned out American Idol-style by those who think a certain candidate "looks cute." But not to worry, devoted citizens. I'm here to quash all of those myths you've been told and help you make an informed choice in the election, even if it isn't for the candidate I endorse (did I mention I support Barack Obama?).

1. John McCain is a dirty liberal who will stab his party in the back. If John McCain is a liberal, then I can't even begin to imagine what someone like Mitt Romney was. McCain agrees with the party's conservative base on most critical, platform-defining issues. He's been an ardent supporter of the war in Iraq since the get-go. He's been behind the surge - almost alone on that point - from its inception. He's pro-life, and he's all about small government. The issues he's clashed with the party on have mostly been about finance reform. He's been in favor of responsible fiscal spending, which isn't too far out of line with Republican doctrine. Lately, he's come under fire about immigration reform - his policy of providing a path to citizenship for illegal immigrants was widely labeled as "amnesty" - but this isn't a departure from Republican policy so much as a departure from ultraconservative party leadership. (It's not saying much if the complaint is that you're less conservative than Dick Cheney. That's akin to being not quite as good at basketball as LeBron James.) He'd be a conservative president. In fact, he'd probably conduct his administration similar to a third Bush term. He'd appoint conservative judges to the Supreme Court. He'd promote responsible government spending. Most of his opposition comes from big names like Rush Limbaugh and Ann Coulter, who are notoriously extremely conservative. Some sense of context is useful here.

2. Hillary Clinton is evil, and if elected president she will eat babies. I'm exaggerating for effect, obviously, but there's a widespread conception that she's a horrible person and needs to be kept out of the White House at any cost. I've never understood why this perception exists. People say she's ambitious, and she probably is, but that's a common characteristic of anyone aspiring to the presidency. It's more likely that the reason Americans are so split on her is because she's very liberal, which leaves a sour taste in the mouths of Republicans in general. Moderate, centrist candidates will attract more people, and thus appear less divisive. That's why the 2004 elections were so divided - Bush represented the far right, while Kerry represented the far left. A centrist candidate would have gone far to bridge that gap. (Just one more reason to vote for Obama. Even if he isn't moderate in actuality, the perception of it is enough to overcome any divisiveness.)

3. Hillary Clinton's campaign is dead after losing seven straight contests in a week. Hurting, yes, but far from dead. Even after losing seven states in a row, she still only narrowly trails Obama in overall delegate totals. She's projected to win big states like Texas and Ohio, which should add some energy to her campaign in March. Numerically, she's still very much in this campaign. Of course, the perception that her campaign is in its death throes could change the results of those states, but that still remains to be seen.

This is going to be a crucially important election for this country. Our foreign relations are strained near to the breaking point after eight years of cowboy diplomacy. Your vote will make an impact this year. (I say that because I'm keenly aware that most of my readers are younger. This is probably the first election for many of you.) Go out and get informed. Make a rational choice. And while it doesn't have to agree with mine, I'd certainly be really happy if you would vote for Barack Obama. He can do a lot for this country that others can't. More on that later, perhaps.

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It's the little things, you know? Today was a perfectly fine day, and then in the space of a couple of hours, three or four things didn't go my way. And now I'm irritated. Like, a lot.

Suppose this is as good a time as any to remind myself that my Lenten vow this year was to give up being self-centered. Looks like now is the time to remember to enact that, get over myself, and quit being mopey.

Still, though. Good grief.

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I want to be mad at the Giants today. I really do. The Patriots had everything going for them on the road to 19-0. They should have won this game. I wanted to see the perfect season so bad.

But after watching this play, I just can't feel good about hating them. The Giants deserve this win so bad.





Seriously. Watch that four or five times and tell me the Giants didn't earn that win. It's absolutely breathtaking.

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It's been a long primary season so far. Candidates have come and gone, and millions across America remain unsure who to choose. Who can unite such a fragmented country? Who can bring us back together after eight years of trust in the government - not only in the President, but in Congress as well - have slowly been whittled away?

At times like this, America needs someone to look to for guidance. They need a voice they can trust. Someone to tell them who they can believe in. Someone to tell them how they should think. And I, dear readers, am just the person to provide such an announcement.

America needs someone it can trust, after years of general mistrust in our elected officials. We need someone who we can count on to be honest with us. Perhaps more importantly, though, America needs someone who can restore our sense of involvement in government. After all, is this not a government of the people, by the people, and for the people? We need a leader who is not a leader of one party only. America needs someone to unite behind. Someone who can get us excited about an election and the prospect of the future. We need a leader who can restore hope to America. And that candidate, I believe, is none other than Barack Obama.

Obama's message has consistently been one of hope. Critics deride him as a dreamer. Many say his ideals are unrealistic in a world full of negativity and fear. But millions across America believe him. Millions are joining together in an effort to restore a sense of optimism to America, something that has been sorely lacking in this country for too long. An Obama presidency would usher in a new age in American history. Leaders across the globe have expressed excitement at working with a potential President Obama.

I could go on. But I'll leave it at this tasteful logo and my formal endorsement of Barack Obama for the next President of the United States.

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Our bathroom drains have been pretty backed up since we moved in, so I decided to take a crack at them. After taking a look inside the pipes, I decided that going in manually wasn't the best course of action. (Suffice it to say, it was pretty gross.) I headed to the store to find a decent clog remover, and stumbled upon this:
It was like manna from heaven. All I had to do was pour it down the drain, wait fifteen minutes, and voila! Clear pipes! And only five dollars! It was like pouring nightmares down the tubes!

Here's what people like me are saying about Liquid-Plumr Foaming Pipe Snake:

IT'S SIMPLY UNBELIEVABLE!!!!

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Since my birthday a few weeks ago, I've been growing out a beard. I thought it looked pretty cool, but it was driving my nose crazy, so I decided to shave it off on Sunday afternoon. I nearly didn't recognize myself - I looked like a 12-year old without it. Weird.

I would have posted this memorial of my beard yesterday, but somehow, it didn't feel right with the slew of tributes to Gordon B. Hinckley yesterday. Today, the beard can be remembered in its own right.

Two imponderables for the day:

1. For whatever reason, the heat was off in my classroom over the weekend. I came in this morning to find that the temperature was only 47 degrees. That's almost criminal. It's been on for over two hours now, and the temperature is still only 52 degrees.

2. Genuine. and I each got emails this morning informing us that we someone had purchased us something from our Amazon baby registry and that it was on our way.

Neither of us started a baby registry. We're just as surprised as you are.

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Friends have been trying to convince me to read the dinosaur comic for some time now, but until today, I've been hesitant.

Until today, that is!!!



Ha! Dinosaurs! And they talk!

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Last November, some friends and I hosted the first Tournament of Champions. 64 names were submitted, including historical figures, contemporaries, and fictional characters. We created a bracket and had them square off in a series of deathmatches. We voted on who we thought was best equipped to win the fight and had them advance accordingly. We also posted a large version of the bracket on our front door.

It turned out to be far more popular than we could have dreamed.

People would walk by the front door shouting things like, "Yoda over Treebeard?! Are you kidding me?" Dozens of people asked if they could be judges for the next tournament. Dozens more offered suggestions for future participants in the tournament. In an effort to accommodate as many people as we could, we hosted the new tournament online, with a feature to allow for internet voting.

It turned out to be far more popular than we could have dreamed.

Registration is open to anyone who wants to take the time to sign up with the website. Just visit http://76.8.209.135/tournament/ and create a username and you're set to go. Even though the internet vote only counts as one of nine total votes, it's already had a huge impact on the results. Your vote matters here. Do you think that Ungoliant from The Simarillion could defeat the Big Boo from the Mario series? What about Mr. Rogers against the Thing? Sign up and make a difference.

Last year's finals pitted The Tick against the Balrog of Moria. This year promises to be just as exciting. Come and be a part of history!

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It's safe to say that this is easily the worst I've ever felt after finishing a day of school. The students in my fourth period class weren't mean like my English classes were, but just rude. Every time I started talking, they just started talking right along. Even when I stopped the class to tell them to quit it already, they would keep talking while I was telling them to shut up. I felt like I was being ignored entirely and treated as less than a human. It hurt, and when I stopped the class at the very end it took just about everything I had not to just sit down and cry. (I haven't cried since eighth grade. That was nearly eleven years ago.) My head hurts, my heart aches, my stomach feels like it wants to crawl up through my throat, I'm exhausted, and Pandora playing Doves at me isn't helping any. I felt completely miserable. (notice the lack of parallel structure there! different tenses! conflict! can we expect resolution? yes!)

And yet (see! resolution!), when one of my students from an earlier class came in to ask about a problem with his grade, not only was I helpful and friendly, but I sincerely wanted to help him out. All of the earlier insanity was completely forgotten. I wanted to do anything I could for him.

As insane and emotionally masochistic as this career seems on the surface, it's the right place for me. One way or another, that keeps being confirmed for me.

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I had a dream last night in which I was reading my news magazines online in the morning to find that Barack Obama died of a massive heart attack during the night. The news came as a shock and devastating blow to me. I tried to convince myself that I was only dreaming, and even managed to wake up in the dream, only to find that I wasn't dreaming. It had actually happened.

Needless to say, I read my news magazines extra close this morning to make sure Obama was still alive. It had a bigger effect on me than I would have imagined. Suppose it's safe to say that I'm an Obama man.

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My English 10 classes are working on personal narratives right now, so as a warmup today, I had them free write on their experiences with the "other sub" that they've had for the last couple of weeks. Most of them had pretty negative experiences (students, as a rule, tend not to like subs), so it made for pretty entertaining reading. I'll reproduce my favorite one here.

Having a sub was really not fun. Although, then we had a lot of free time. It was cool not haveing to do much of anything. But with a sub I learned little to nothing. So that was a down-side. Especially the old lady. She was old. And a lady. And boring. Why was old lady boring? Cause she was old. And a lady. Lady is the first word in Lady bug. Those are red. Red like roses. People give roses for dances. I like dancing. Especially when people break dance. Thats so cool. And they always have some cracker getting showed up. Like on this one movie. Hoo-rah. It was cool. Cool like ice cream. "You scream, I scream, we all scream for ice cream." I like that saying. Screaming is what they use at emo music. Emos are lame. Lame like crackers. My friend thinks crackers and ranch are good. But its not.

I would have laughed out loud if I weren't sitting in the computer lab with them. I like these kids.

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How the NFL playoffs might have turned out if they were governed by the BCS, the oft-maligned system that determines the matchups in college bowl games:

BCS National Championship: #1 New England (16-0) vs. #2 Green Bay (13-3)
Rose Bowl: #6 San Diego (11-5) vs. #3 Indianapolis (13-3)
Sugar Bowl: #12 Tampa Bay (9-7) vs. #7 Seattle (10-6)
Fiesta Bowl: #4 Dallas (13-3) vs. #5 Jacksonville (11-5)
Orange Bowl: #8 Pittsburgh (10-6) vs. #10 Washington (9-7)
Capitol One Bowl: #9 New York (10-6) vs. #13 Cleveland (10-6)
Cotton Bowl: #11 Tennessee (10-6) vs. #15 Minnesota (8-8)
Gator Bowl: #14 Philadelphia (8-8) vs. #17 Arizona (8-8)
Outback Bowl: #16 Houston (8-8) vs. #19 Buffalo (8-8)
Chick-Fil-A Bowl: #20 Chicago (7-9) vs. #21 Denver (7-9)
Sun Bowl: #22 Cincinnatti (7-9) vs. #23 Carolina (7-9)
Gaylord Hotels Music City Bowl: #18 New Orleans (7-9) vs. #24 Detroit (7-9)

Ground rules - a team needs at least seven wins to qualify for a bowl. I would have cut it off at eight, but there were enough deserving teams with only seven wins that I let them in, too. Division champions received automatic bids to BCS bowls. Rankings were taken from ESPN.com, with the exception of Green Bay, whose ranking rose from fifth to second (just like LSU!) so they could play in the title game. Following are reasons why, all of which line up with BCS policy:

1. No rematches in the title game. (disqualifies #2 Indianapolis and #3 Dallas, both of whom lost to New England)
2. No two teams from the same conference can play each other in the title game. (disqualifies #4 Jacksonville)

Thus, #5 Green Bay jumps three spots to #2 and the right to face New England in the BCS title game. I'll spare you my predictions for the outcomes of all of the games, but suffice it to say that New England is the national champion, but that by far the most compelling game would be the Fiesta Bowl, with the Rose and Cotton Bowls just behind it. (High on the list of boring bowl games: the Gaylord Hotels Music City Bowl.)

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Yup, I got married over the holidays. Pictures to come once we get good ones. These will be notable, inasmuch as they will be the first pictures of me including my face on this blog. Heady stuff.

To tide you over in the meantime, I'll provide you with a review of our honeymoon (with gory and intimate details removed, don't worry). Ratings out of a possible five stars.

The hotel in Portland. My parents put us up at the Westin Hotel in Portland, which was pretty ritzy. The bed had a layer of down on the top which would have made for a wonderful night's sleep, had either of us been able to get any rest. (CENSOR'S NOTE: OPTIMISTIC. IS NOT REFERRING TO ANY SEXUAL EXPLOITS. NEITHER HE NOR GENUINE DRAFT. WERE ABLE TO FALL ASLEEP THAT FIRST NIGHT DUE TO THE LATENT STRESS OF THE ORDEAL OF THE DAY. HONESTLY, YOU PEOPLE.) They even had complimentary bathrobes which would have been wonderful, had either of us noticed they were there until just before we checked out. (Four and a half stars)

The train up to Seattle. We took the AmTrak Cascades route from Portland to Seattle for about $20 a seat. At that rate, it's cheaper than flying or driving, and the train was a pretty enjoyable experience. Tons of leg room, and you don't even have to wear a seat belt. Plus, the absence of a vomit bag in front of you is a promising indication for what sort of ride you can expect. (Four stars)

The hotel in Seattle. We stayed at the Ramada Inn Downtown, which I found through Travelocity. The hotel room looked pretty nice online, and seemed pretty nice once I got in. It certainly wasn't the Westin (which was not only a few blocks from us, but also served as the iconic cover art for Wilco's Yankee Hotel Foxtrot), but it was nice enough. The only downsides were that the cleaning fairies came by a little too early most days (we learned to have that "Do Not Disturb" sign out the night before) and that the complimentary copy of USA Today was not delivered to our door, as promised, but rather available for pickup at the front desk.

The carpets were very nice, though. (Four stars)

The Experience Music Project and Science Fiction Museum. The EMP, primarily funded by billionaire Paul Allen, is a museum dedicated to rock music and seems to feature mostly Jimi Hendrix. It's cool for a bit, but after seeing the same images, it gets tiresome quickly. The Sound Lab upstairs is fun, as it gives you the chance to play around on instruments yourself, but the exhibit is so popular that if you don't have fifteen minutes to wait for a booth, you won't get a chance to play with anything. Probably the best part of the EMP was Revolutions, a restaurant that featured very good food and several Nirvana music videos. (Four stars, but only two without the restaurant)

The attached Science Fiction Museum, however, was pretty cool. The exhibits were extremely entertaining, featuring things as varied as a model of the Death Star to blown-glass spaceships to a display case of weapons from movies. More than once, Genuine. lamented the fact that we couldn't bring a camera into the museum. Also, the monorail goes right past the front gate. (Four and a half stars)

Pike Place Market. An open-air market on the waterfront of Puget Sound, Pike Place has an eclectic mix of novelty stores, cafes, and fish that is a must-see for anyone visiting the city. One market features employees throwing fish to each other across the display case that always attracts a crowd. If you're a bargain hunter, there are tons of shops that you should check out. Since neither of us are, particularly, we called it a day after finding the Daily Dozen, a small donut shop that might be the best-kept secret of the whole place. (Three stars)

Fun Forest. A small arcade and amusement park just below the Space Needle. We came here the night of New Year's Eve looking to pass the time until midnight. It wasn't anything special - you might have found a place like this in hundreds of cities. But riding the Ferris wheel, snagging crappy stuffed animals out of a crane game, and braving what may have been the world's smallest roller coaster six times was way more fun than I, at least, expected. This could have been the highlight of the whole trip. (Five stars)

The Seattle Children's Museum. Both Genuine. and I have fond memories of visiting Children's Museums when we were young and making giant bubbles, climbing walls, and the like. When we saw one in Seattle, we both leaped at the chance to go. However, the lady at admissions said we could only get in if we had a child inside. Denied. She took a picture of me frowning and looking furious at the entrance. (Zero stars)

The Space Needle. 500 feet tall and overlooking the city, perhaps only Starbucks is a more widely-known symbol of Seattle. However, at $16 a person to ride the elevator to the top and a whopping $45 a person to eat at the revolving restaurant, we ultimately declined to visit it. We got some pretty cool pictures, though. (Two stars)

The Pacific Science Center. Another fun science museum that has entertaining and interactive exhibits, just like the ones you visited as a kid. We visited the planetarium, though we were so tired that we both fell asleep. This would have been a lot more fun if we'd visited it on the first day we were there; by the time we made it, we were both so exhausted from walking around the city for days that it was just tiring. (Three and a half stars)

The ABC Family Channel. When we were tired from walking around all day, we would usually head back to our hotel, crawl under the covers, and turn on the TV. We probably watched four movies and as many episodes of Monk while we were in town. Not something I would have enjoyed normally, but we were so tired and punchy that we ended up giggling and making bizarre jokes for most of the time. It ended up being a lot of fun. (Four stars)

The University of Washington. An amazing campus. This place has buildings that look like gothic cathedrals. Coming from a school whose buildings are intended to be primarily functional, seeing some mostly aesthetic buildings was a treat. It's probably not somewhere I'd ever like to go permanently (Tolkien Boy, our guide, said that most of his tuition probably went toward architecture), but it was really cool to visit. (Four stars)

Freemont. Seattle's token quirky neighborhood. Freemont features a sculpture of a troll under a bridge devouring a VW Beetle, which was fun. Genuine. even found a hobo sleeping behind the head and took a picture of him. The world's largest stature of Vladimir Lenin outside of Russia can also be found in Freemont. It was fun to see them, but after that, we couldn't find much else to do. Maybe just look at pictures. (Two and a half stars)

I'd give the whole experience somewhere around three and a half to four stars. It was great getting to spend a week together, but so much walking had us exhausted. Still, the city comes recommended. Also, the marrying. That's been fun, too.

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O holy night!
The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of our dear Savior's birth.


Long lay the world in sin and ever pining
'Til He appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope; the weary soul rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.


Fall on your knees!
O hear the angel voices!
O night divine!
O night when Christ was born!
O night divine!
O night, O night divine!


Truly He taught us to love one another.
His law is love and His gospel is peace.
Change shall He bring, for the slave is our brother
And in His name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus rising
Let all within us praise His holy name.


Fall on your knees!
O hear the angel voices!
O night divine!
O night when Christ was born!
O night divine!
O night, O night divine!



Just a short reminder what the season is about. Merry Christmas, everyone.

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It's nearly the end of the year, which means it's time for lists of the top whatevers of the year to come out. I put together a list of my CDs of the year last December, and I was pretty pleased with the results. So now, while my Japanese 1 students make posters for another hour, I give you the five CDs of 2007 that you really ought to have been listening to.

Even with a new Radiohead album, I don't feel like there was any one standout album that demands to be made the album of the year. I'll list my five CDs in alphabetical order this year instead.

1. Armchair Apocrypha, Andrew Bird. This CD came out in March, during Lent, so I missed it and all of its hype at first. I bought the CD and set it aside while I fulfilled my Lenten vow, only to find that I didn't like it quite as much as I thought I might. (This shouldn't be a surprise to me, since I didn't particularly like The Mysterious Production of Eggs at first, either.) Genuine and I took in a concert of Bird's in May, and while it was fun, we just weren't that familiar with his new album. The more I listen to it, though, the more I really like it. While most albums I really enjoy have two or three standout songs and several good ones, Armchair has, by my count, six standout songs. I like "Fiery Crash" enough to have it on the mix playing at our wedding reception, and I've liked "Heretics" since I downloaded it from Bird's website before the official release of the album. "Dark Matter" is the rocker of the bunch, showing that Bird can cut loose, while "Scythian Empires" is the surprisingly beautiful and gentle song at the end. (It occupies the same spot on Armchair that "MX Missiles" occupies on Eggs.) While Armchair isn't Bird's best album, it is a very good album, and the logical progression from Eggs. It shows him growing up just a little bit, and if growing up means he produces more music like this, I say that's just fine.

2. In Rainbows, Radiohead. I've reviewed this once in depth and once in passing already on this blog, but I'll write a little more with the benefit of hindsight. I think so much emphasis was placed on Radiohead's innovative distribution model (you can have it for whatever price you want!) that the music sort of became lost in the shuffle. And it's amazing music. Radiohead has focused for years on being the most avant-garde and cutting-edge band that their music, while both avant-garde and cutting-edge, suffered a bit. (Don't get me wrong - I adore Kid A.) With In Rainbows, it sounds like the band, for the first time in ages, are actually enjoying themselves. The subtle back and forth action of the band playing off of each other is back, something that we haven't seen since the days of OK Computer. "15 Step" at first sounds like the album will be more of the electronica that has dominated the last three records, but once it breaks into something that's almost soul, you can see the band is headed somewhere new. "Arpeggi/Weird Fishes" has a beautiful cascading guitar part that sucks you right in. "Reckoner" does the same thing with both Ed O'Brien's guitar and Phil Selway's drums. And "Faust ARP," a sort of version of "Blackbird" for the millennial generation, brings back images of "Exit Music (for a film)". It feels like the band is relaxed for the first time in years. Ironic that once they stop trying to make the best album in history, they succeed in making something tremendous.

3. Neon Bible, Arcade Fire. This is another album that I missed during Lent. Right from the get-go, you can tell the album is much darker than its predecessor, Funeral. "Black Mirror," the leadoff track, has dark, brooding guitars that draw you in. Really, the only way into Neon Bible is through "Black Mirror" - the bright, optimistic spots on the record don't have the same impact unless contrasted with that dark opening. "Intervention" is clearly the highlight of the record, with its impressive pipe organ and the soaring voice of Win Butler shouting lyrics like "Who's going to reset the bone?" Yet the climax of the album, in my mind, comes at two points - once during sinister bass strum and delicate bells of "Black Wave/Bad Vibrations" ("eating from the ghetto on a hundred dollar plate"), and once, more impressively, during "No Cars Go," in which the band pulls out all the stops for their finale. There are a lot of stops, too - with eight regular members, there's a lot of sound to play with. Neon Bible takes some work to warm up to, but, given time, it's worth the wait.

4. Sound of Silver, LCD Soundsystem. I initially only bought this album so I could be ready for the joint Arcade Fire-LCD Soundsystem concert Genuine and I went to this September. I'm really glad I did, since it's fantastic. James Murphy delivered on his first album, but on Sound of Silver, he ups the ante. Each song is built around one set of beats, slowly assembling itself into a full-fledged dance tune by the end. That's just like his first album, except that on this album, he seems to be focused on making his songs more polished rather than just loud and fast. He also sounds like he's having fun, too - "North American Scum" is, by any account, the funniest song of 2007 ("And to all of you who still think we're from England/We're like, no"). Even if you aren't a huge fan of dance, this is still worth checking out. The beats are infectious enough to get even the most reluctant listener tapping their toes.

5. The Stage Names, Okkervil River. This was probably one of the most anticipated albums of the year until October, when In Rainbows dropped. Okkervil River take a step back from their brooding, melancholy music of the last few years to release something a bit happier. "Our Life is a Movie, Or Maybe" shows that the band are ready to start playing songs in a major key, and without any mournful lyrics, either. Their penchant for well-researched, hyperliterate songs hasn't abated, though. "Savannah Smiles" is about the death by suicide of Shannon Michelle Wilsey (better known as the porn star Savannah) in 1994. The soft ballad is kinder than you might expect from an egotistical porn star, but the tenderness in the song is deeply touching. "Plus Ones" comes in as the runner up to "North American Scum" for funniest song of 2007. Will Sheff put together a list of numerical references in famous songs and added one to each of them. Lyrics like "no one wants to hear about your 97th tear" are both clever and funny, each building on the last. And yet, it's more than just lyrics. Okkervil River make beautiful music, and this record is probably their most approachable one yet.

It's long, but those are my reviews of the five best albums of the year. And with Christmas coming up, these are great ideas for gifts, if you're looking for something to get someone. (Not me, though. I already own all five of these.) Honorable mention goes to Beirut's The Flying Club Cup and Spoon's Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, both of which probably would have ended up on this list if I'd heard anything from them.

Happy 2007, everyone. Here's hoping 2008 is as rewarding, musically.

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One of my kids in class today, in speaking to another student, said, "My dad can beat up your dad."

Which made me think of this:

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Fun fact: While helping Genuine Draft carry some boxes home from work so we could pack up our belongings, I earned a gigantic (cf. huge, freakin' enormous) paper cut on the tip of my thumb.

Additional fun fact: If you pour hot water over a paper cut, perhaps while washing your hands, it hurts like a mother.

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During my Japanese 2 class, I had my students memorize a dialog and present it to the class. Three students approached me and asked if they could work in a group of three to memorize it. I would have protested, but they were all good, hardworking students, so I let them go ahead, even though the dialog only had two parts (thus, a dialog). I stopped by as I was walking around the class, helping everyone out, and asked how they were doing. The boy in the group (who was working with two girls) simply said, "This threesome is working out great."

He didn't even intend any innuendo. No one giggled or said anything inappropriate. I'm so used to hearing kids search for any trace of entendre in everything they say that it caught me off guard a little. Way to go.

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The Christmas season is upon us, and I've actually been listening to Christmas music this year. I normally make a point of not listening to Christmas carols, if only because the type you tend to hear are songs like "Feliz Navidad" and Paul McCartney's truly horrid "Wonderful Christmas." I really like Christmas hymns ("The First Noel" especially so), but I have a hard time listening to schmaltz in any form. Last year, however, I managed to pick up a copy of Sufjan Stevens' fantastic Songs for Christmas (which I had as my fifth-best album of 2006), and I've been listening to it to and from work. Stevens writes some really solid music, and though this is mostly gimmicky, it's still really good. He has a balance of traditional hymns ("Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing" makes an appearance) with his own originals ("Hey Everybody, It's Christmas Time!"). It makes for a pleasant, soothing commute.

Listening to Stevens' music, though, has had an effect that I did not anticipate. For the first time in quite a while, I find my thoughts centered on Jesus Christ during the season of the holiday commemorating His birth. In recent years, I've been so wrapped up in school and other things that that true spirit of Christmas has fallen by the wayside. This year, it's almost hard not to think of the Savior, though. How can I not when I'm listening to songs like "Little Drummer Boy" and "Once in Royal David's City"? What might be even stranger, though, is that the primarily Protestant doctrines mentioned in the songs ("God in three persons, blessed Trinity," for example) is strengthening my faith in my own decidedly not Protestant church. If anything, I've heard the contrasts more clearly than I would have normally.

It's a really good set of songs, dear readers. You'd do well to pick it up, or at the very least listen to the streaming audio he's made available on his website. It's good for the soul.

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I taught a killer lesson today in my English class. Teaching English has been really difficult, since it's nowhere near my area of expertise. I know a little bit about the books in question (The Scarlet Letter and The Chosen, for eleventh and tenth grades, respectively), but that's as far as my formal training has gone. I really don't know much beyond the plot. I don't know which symbols to develop or what quotes to build on. That said, I talked about the latent hypocrisy in the society in The Scarlet Letter and compared it to high school. The kids spent the first hour of class talking about what horrible people the characters in the book were, but when I pointed out that it's actually not all that different than their own society, everyone got really quiet. The looks on their faces told me that they understood what point I was driving at. I doubt it's anything that they're going to keep with them long-term (I wouldn't be surprised if some of them are currently being judgmental in passing period), but at the very least, they know that I have some relevant points to make, and that I'm worth listening to. I love knowing that I've made a difference, if only a small one. This is why I got into teaching in the first place.

Two little things that probably aren't worth a post of their own now. I'm also pleased with my outfit choice today. It's not especially snazzy or anything, but I really feel like a teacher wearing this. All I need is a nametag of my own and I'd be set. That, and when I got into my car this morning, the odometer read 66666. It's the little things, you know?

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It's been a little while since I've been in the high school environment, so I'd forgotten some of the quirks of the scene. Notable among them is the vocabulary. Political correctness has driven the word "gay" out of the common parlance nearly everywhere except for high schools, where it can mean just about anything you want it to. Among the probably hundred or so times I've heard the word this week were the following:

"The Scarlet Letter is so gay." (Oh, the irony that a book written about heterosexual adultery would be called gay.)
"Look at the gay hats those Jews are wearing!" (Perhaps they meant goy?)
"What a gay class this is."
"Dude, that's so lesbian."

It's already to the point where I had to be very careful telling a girl in my Japanese class the word for "art" when she asked me. (It's geijutsu, incidentally, with the gei pronounced just like you might think.)

Also notable is a complete inability to think outside the box. I like these kids, most of them, but I'm consistently surprised that they can't (or won't, I'm not sure which) infer anything from my assignments other than exactly what I'm saying. An example: today, I gave my Japanese 1 students some sentences to translate. We were learning how to use negatives, and so I gave them a list of questions to respond to in the negative. (Pardon me, but are you Takeshi? No, I am not Takeshi. And so on.) One of the questions asked if the students were seventeen years old. One student raised his hand and asked what he should do if he were seventeen. I assumed he was kidding at first, but he seemed very earnest. I told him to go ahead and lie, though I felt a little guilty about it.

I'd also forgotten how rude and disrespectful students can be. Several of them actually did dances of joy when I told them I was replacing their regular teacher, expressing the depths of their hatred for her. This lady is a perfectly normal person, having done nothing to deserve any of the treatment she was receiving. I've had my fair share of it as well, hearing students yell out in class how gay the lessons are (see above) and about how pointless the assignments are. Does no one teach these people that saying things like that is rude and unacceptable in general society? Or do I just not count as a person because I'm a teacher and not a friend?

This is what inspired my previous post about jerkhood, incidentally. And yes, Mozilla Firefox, I know that "jerkhood" isn't a word recognized by your dictionary. You get to deal with it.

I also routinely get to pick up shredded pieces of paper that students destroy and leave all over my floor. I enjoy ripping things up as much as the next person, but I've never felt it appropriate to destroy things a teacher handed out and leave them all over the floor. Maybe that should have gone in the rude paragraph.

At any rate, I still really enjoy the experience, despite everything I've said above. I throughly enjoy teaching. It's just that I'd forgotten what it was like to be in a high school. Welcome back, I suppose.

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I was offered a position as a long-term substitute teacher, and while it's not the permanent position I was looking for, it's a start, so I took it. I started teaching yesterday, and I remember why it was that I wanted to be a teacher in the first place. I love being able to correctly explain new ideas to kids, be a positive role model for them, and I especially love seeing the look of dawning comprehension when someone finally gets a particularly difficult concept. It's terribly rewarding, even if they pay isn't. (cliche!)

What I'd forgotten is that for each of those satisfying moments, there are five or six annoying ones to deal with. My last class today had one student in particular who seemed like she had made it her personal mission to be as obnoxious as possible. She got to me at first, but I trained myself to tune her out by the end of the period. It got me thinking, though. Many of my classes have annoying students like that. That's something that you come to expect as a teacher. The average classroom is probably an average cross-section of people I'm likely to meet in life; attendance is compulsory, at least at this stage. So if one in every twenty or thirty students in each class is obnoxious, it stands to reason that one in every twenty or thirty people I meet in life are going to be obnoxious, too.

As many of five percent of the people I run into are going to be complete jerks, and there's not a whole lot I can do about it. That's a sobering thought. I always just assumed that people who were jerks in high school would just grow out of it, but the more of the real world I see, the less I'm inclined to think so.

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Thoughts and musings:

I took a call at work last night that really got me worked up. It's not even that this woman was doing anything particularly frustrating. She was standing somewhere that was noisy, and instead of moving somewhere quieter, she just kept asking me to speak up. By the end of the conversation, I was near shouting, and to a point where everyone else in the building could hear me. (It's a big building.) I drove home still steaming from the conversation. I was irritated, and I felt pretty justified in being irritated. And then, after about half an hour of letting myself be irritated, I realized that someone perfect - someone like the Savior - wouldn't have let something like that get to them. And that I'm just not perfect yet. That's not a bad thing, since I am, after all, human, but it reminded me - quite forcibly - just how far I have to go. It's a good thing I have a lifetime and more to work on it.

Sometimes, I put on a CD that I haven't listened to in a while and wonder how I ever forgot about it. Listening to The Crane Wife today brought me back. I could listen to "The Island" forever.

I had a dream a couple of nights ago that I watched Louis Armstrong leap across a parking lot, suddenly bound a few stories into the air, and then crash into the pavement, dying instantly. It came as a shock to the nation, especially since they had found out earlier that day that Marilyn Monroe had also died - and it all coincided with the end of Survivor: Canada. It was all too much for America to bear. I walked past a traffic sign consoling a grieving and wounded nation. Dreams are weird sometimes.

The invitations are finally printed and done. That's about the last thing to take care of before the wedding. I hope.

Sometimes I think about just packing in the blog for good. I still like writing and all, but sometimes it's hard to come up with clever ideas. They just don't hit me as often or as powerfully anymore. Maybe I'm just in a down phase.

I'd really like some Goldfish crackers right about now.

I started reading an Orson Scott Card book that wasn't Ender's Game or Ender's Shadow at the behest of a co-worker last week. I've read several more in the meantime. Man, they're pretty good. I wish I'd known about them earlier.

I still worry that some sort of demon will reach out from under my bed and devour me at night when all the lights are off. I'm usually safe once I'm off the floor, but not always. You're never too old to be afraid of the dark.

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A ponderable for the ages: why do my farts smell like barbecue sauce?

Definitely time to start eating healthier.

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Since they banned enjoyment in any form at work a couple of days ago, I've taken to starting Wikipedia chains. I'll load up an article that interests me (yesterday's was Bo Jackson) and click on other links that seem interesting. From the article on Bo Jackson, I ended up reading about 2001: A Space Odyssey. Today's was pretty interesting, too.

• Pete Rose
• "Shoeless" Joe Jackson
• Black Sox scandal
• 1919 World Series
  
• World Series
• Back to the Future Part II
• Back to the Future Part III
• Back to the Future timeline
  
• Grandfather paradox
• Time travel
• Fermi paradox
• Arecibo message
• Wow! signal
• Extraterrestrial life

Man, Wikipedia is fun. How did I ever pass the time without it?

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I've been posting about the exploits of the Colorado Rockies lately. It's been tremendously fun watching their meteoric rise to the World Series - the World Series! - over the last six weeks, and I expected the trend to keep going once they got there.

For those of you unfamiliar with the world of sports, the Boston Red Sox swept the Rockies out in four games.

As colossally one-sided as that may seem, it was actually somewhat competitive. The Rockies had chances to take the lead and put games out of reach more than once, but they always seemed to fail to capitalize. For more than a month, it seemed that everything was going their way - balls barely clearing the fence, hitters barely missing pitches, everything - but once they faced up against Boston, all of that good fortune changed to ill omen. Game 1 ended in a horrific 13-1 loss that couldn't have been fun even for the most hardcore Red Sox fan. (Anyone with a soul had to hurt watching that game. Three consecutive bases loaded walks? That's not a good game, it's a slaughter. I ached during that inning.) Game 2 was close (only 2-1), which game me hope. Game 3 ended up 10-5, although it was 6-5 at one point. And tonight ended up as another one run loss, with a rally coming up just a little too short.

My beef here isn't with the Boston Red Sox. The Rockies had a tremendous run, but the Sox were just better. They consistently outplayed the Rockies, forcing them to cause errors, miss pitches, and look every bit like the World Series rookies they were. No, I'm not bitter about them. What bothers me is the smug, smirking, Beantown fans. For a team that hadn't won a World Series title for 86 years, you'd think they might show a little more class to a team that looked increasingly overmatched. Instead, I heard nothing but how much better their precious Red Sox were, how no one in the National League could possibly compete with team in the American League, and about how ridiculously overrated the Rockies were. Truth be told, the American League does have three or four clubs that are consistently better than any NL team (the Yankees, the Red Sox, the Indians, and possibly the Tigers), but hearing that rubbed in my face over and over and over went well beyond the domain of sportsmanlike rivalry. This was downright classless, and especially from a group known for having to endure season after season of heartwrenching defeat. (You want to see pain? Find any Red Sox fan and bring up Bill Buckner's error in 1986. That's pain.)

Granted, the Rockies haven't endured anything like the Sox have. They've only been in existence since 1993. They've been bad, but fourteen years is nothing compared to eighty-six. I was just surprised at how smug and unfeeling the Red Sox Nation were during this series. Congratulations, Nation. You beat a foe that was probably overmatched, yet hung in there during nearly every game. They rode a magical streak that saw them lose one game in over a month. You beat them good, and now you can rub it in our faces all you want.

(May I point out that I don't mean this about the two Sox fans I know in person? I still like both of them. I mean this more in general than anything else.)

So much for sportsmanship. And speaking of a lack of sportsmanship, another Boston-based team, the New England Patriots, beat the Washington Redskins today by a score of 52-7. Give me a break, Boston.

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As promised.

Metal Man 2008 Official Campaign Website

Donations now accepted.

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Frustrated with your options for president? Do none of the candidates appear any more qualified than the rest? Are you looking for someone to cut through the red tape and get things accomplished?

Look no further, friends. Out of the fog comes our deliverer.



Metal Man and Knuckles the Echidna for the White House in 2008. Details to follow. Be excited.

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Anyone who knows me to any degree (or has read this blog) knows that I've been a bit taken with the Colorado Rockies of late. Sports have always been a big deal for me - my dad, whom I respect more than I have words to tell, watched a lot of sports when I was a kid, so I started following them, too. We lived in Colorado Springs when I started paying attention to sports, so I naturally formed an insoluble bond with any and all Colorado-based team. (The Buffaloes of the University of Colorado at Boulder were first. I watched them through their epic 1994 season, in which they finished ranked third in the nation. More on that later.) In all honesty, I follow sports more for the abundance of statistics than anything else; I'm a meticulous and details-oriented person by nature, so knowing precisely how many steals or interceptions a player averages over a given span of time is not only interesting to me, but fascinating.

Sports have a pretty iconic hold over Americans, too. Clearly, it's just a game, but when a player or team pulls off a particularly impressive play, it can take on a larger-than-life aspect. That's part of what I enjoy most about following any team. The Buffs were just the first team I can remember that swept me up as part of something bigger. I remember watching Colorado playing then fourth-ranked Michigan - in Ann Arbor - in September of 1994. Colorado was down by twelve points with less than three minutes to play, and things looked grim. They were having a great season already, but even just one loss could have spelled doom for them. (In college football, you nearly always have to go undefeated to win a national championship. With over 100 teams in the running, there isn't much room for error.) And then, somehow, they scored a touchdown. And got the ball back. And with six seconds to go, quarterback Kordell Stewart, standing on his own 36-yard line, throws the ball seventy-three yards - that's all in the air, folks, none of it bouncing or anything like that - into the end zone where wide receiver Michael Westbrook snatches it up for the improbable comeback.

It's thirteen years later, and even just reading about it makes me giddy. For one moment there, I was part of that team. I was lined up with my heroes, wearing a black jersey and a gold helmet. I stood tall in the pocket, looking down the field at my target. I was running down the field, trying to get away from the Michigan defenders and get into that end zone to give my team the chance to win.

And you'd better believe that I reenacted that play about a thousand times in my back yard.

While they are just games, they allow you to become someone else for a moment. They allow you to become part of something big. They tie you together. The American culture is mostly one of shared references, and sports are no exception. I can meet a total stranger and become an instant friend if we both remember John Elway diving headfirst for that first down in Super Bowl XXXII against the Green Bay Packers. (That's another moment that gives me tingles. Elway's determination was amazing.) Ask any member of the Red Sox Nation. You think there wasn't a feeling of brotherhood in Boston during October 2004 when they came back in the ALCS after losing the first three to the Yankees, the bane of their collective existence? I wouldn't be surprised if there was singing and dancing in the streets.

And this is why the Rockies have meant so much to me over the last month. For those of you unaware, they've now won 21 of their last 22 games, which is nearly unheard of. They've swept two teams out of the playoffs, which has only happened once before in the history of baseball. And it's the Colorado Rockies, a team that didn't even exist fifteen years ago. Denver hasn't had a particularly impressive sports history (with the notable exception of the 1998 Broncos), so for a team that most people considered out of playoff contention six weeks ago to be completely dominating everyone they face, it's a pretty big deal. Big enough, in fact, that the mayor of Denver and the governor of Colorado temporarily renamed the street in front of Coors Field "Rockies Road" last night.

They're calling it "Rocktober."

This team finds a new way to win every night, and every time they play, I'm right there with them. I feel like I'm part of them. It completely energizes me whenever I think about them. (Even as I sit here writing this now, I'm excited. Giddy. I have an urge to jump and make bat-swinging motions.) I can deal with unpleasant calls at work because I have Matt Holliday in front of me hitting a three-run homer in the fourth inning to put the Rockies up for good. I can manage annoying people around me when I've got Troy Tulowitzki at my side turning an unassisted triple play - something that only eleven other people in history have done. I can survive just about anything that comes my way knowing I have Todd Helton - the incredibly long-suffering Todd Helton - at my back making that final out and shouting in elation to the heavens after slogging through eleven years of mediocrity in Denver.

I'm part of something bigger. For a little while, I can be part of the Colorado Rockies and share in this wild ride, even if I'm just watching from my swivel chair at work. That's what the Rockies mean to me. That's why I'm so excited about them.

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Two points of order:

1. The Rockies look to be absolutely invincible this year. They completely dismantled Philadelphia, and they did the exact same thing to Arizona (and 2006 Cy Young winner Brandon Webb) tonight. I know all good things must come to an end sometime, but it doesn't look like it's going to be anytime soon for them. At this rate, they could go 11-0 in the playoffs.

Also, this is the most rational I've been while talking about them since they pulled off that 13th inning dramatic comeback against the Padres to get into the playoffs.

2. If anything, In Rainbows sounds even better now than it did when I first listened to it that exciting night it came out. I'm falling in love with songs I barely noticed that night, like "Faust ARP" and "Jigsaw Falling Into Place." Radiohead's music - especially when they hit on all cylinders like this - brings a joy to my soul that little else can.

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It's a momentous day here in indie musicdom; Radiohead have just released their long-anticipated seventh LP, In Rainbows. Since I was serving as a missionary when their previous album, Hail to the Thief came out in 2003, I didn't get to listen to it until July 2004, which means I've only had to wait for three years for this new record to come out.

I'm here to tell you that it was absolutely worth waiting for.

Ever since the advent of OK Computer, their third CD (and arguably their magnum opus, depending on how you feel about the next LP, Kid A) every one of their albums have been designed as a whole, rather than merely a collection of songs. That's part of what makes Radiohead's music so rewarding to me; each album becomes something bigger than 12 or 13 snatches of song. With In Rainbows, Radiohead breaks the trend. The new release doesn't have the same cohesion as any of its predecessors had; you could easily listen to this album on shuffle without missing anything, something that couldn't be said of any of their other albums (with the exception of their debut, Pablo Honey).

That said, it doesn't detract from the album in the slightest. These ten songs are fantastic, each of them. Things take off right from the get-go with "15 Step" - a weird sort of electronic crunch accompanies Thom Yorke singing, "How come I end up where I started/How come I end up where I went wrong?" in his trademark falsetto voice. This album has some serious energy, continuing the trend we saw in Hail to the Thief. It moves. It has swagger. "Bodysnatchers" delivers the same high-octane thrills. Yet lest you think this whole album is a series of rockers, "Nude" slows things down. Originally written during the Bends/OK Computer era, it's reminiscent of past quasi-ballads like "Exit Music (for a film)" and "How to Disappear Completely."

And then they pick it right back up with "Weird Fishes/Arpeggi". This album has something for everyone. It has the weird, ethereal sounds that hardcore fans are looking for, soft, sweet chords for neophytes, and general rocking out songs for a casual listener. It's solid. It's also 2.45 AM and I'm only on my third listen, so I'm in no place to tell you this is the best Radiohead album of all time, but I will say it's one of their best. Certainly the best since Kid A.

Man, I still can't get enough of "Arpeggi". Or "Reckoner". And it's all available for download right now. Pay whatever you want for it. The band doesn't care. It's all up to you. I can't recommend it highly enough. Do yourself a favor, shell out a few bucks, and pick up this album. It's easily the album of the year, which isn't to say that there's been much competition. What else has come out? Okkervil River's The Stage Names? Andrew Bird's Armchair Apocrypha?

Seriously. Stop reading this and download the album right now.

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A series of short vignettes.



I was driving home from work the other day when a tumbleweed made its way across the road. Having lived in urban areas my entire life (the smallest city I've lived in - Yonezawa, Japan - had a population of 100,000), I'd never actually seen a tumbleweed before. It felt a little like being in an old Western film, except I was in a car. The tumbleweed was soundly defeated.



I'm really good at my job. Not the best, but probably in the top three. I secretly think that I work much harder than my co-workers, which may or may not actually be true. I resent them for it just the same, though, and often find myself ignoring calls late at night so I can play Kingdom of Loathing while forcing them to pick up the phone for once.



I sold my soul today. I ate food from McDonalds, although I'll be quick to point out that I didn't actually buy it. It was provided for me. Hopefully that negates the evil of what I've done. (I went back for a second burger, too. Crap.)

WOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! GO ROCKIES YEEEEAAAHHHH DAWG 2-0!!!!!!1

I'm really happy, for once, with the position my life is in. Absolutely no complaints.

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Ordinarily, this is a fairly erudite blog, discussing matters political, musical, and otherwise introspective.

Allow me to take a brief moment to reflect on something else.

YEAH ROCKIES WOOOOOO HOLY CRAP OMG THAT WAS AMAZING!!!!!1

Ahem. As you were.

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Our apartment is a social one, although, frankly, that's more of a survival mechanism than a choice of free will. Being on the very end of the complex (and out of the view of the courtyard, a veritable wellspring of social interaction), we need to go out of our way to be social if we want people to remember that we exist. Since our door opens out to the stairs to the parking lot, we kept it open through most of September, bidding passers-by hello. It brought friends and well-wishers into the apartment, but with them, an unforeseen foe - flies. Initially, it was only one, which didn't amount to a plague so much as a minor nuisance. What we didn't know is that flies, while certainly not possessing as intricate a social networking system as Facebook, do still possess some sort of primitive fly wireless radio, allowing them to tell others that our apartment was open and accepting new tenants. It seemed like we had four or five new visitors every day. Swatting, shooting them down, and other war tactics had little effect.

It was time to kick it up a notch.

Two of my roommates found a box of strike-anywhere matches and set to work. Tiny torches aloft, they stalked through the kitchen, hunting down our common enemy. The air had a strange smell of sulfur and smoke before I realized what they were doing. "They just sort of...pop," one of them said to me. I imagined a scene of greenish slime coating the walls of the apartment, followed by one of tiny pieces of popcorn littering the floor. When I looked into the kitchen, I saw neither, but rather a clean, fly-free room. It was beautiful. At last, the war had been won.

The flies, however, were not amused.

When I walked into my kitchen this morning, the flies had regrouped. Not only were there more of them, but they were smaller. (I can only assume that some of the flies that had been "popped" last night merely burst into six or seven smaller, more annoying flies.) They hovered erratically around the sink, as though they were protecting something. The dish soap, perhaps? I left the apartment for an hour or so, all the while worrying about what I would find when I got back. I imagined myself entering the apartment to find an eight-foot tall behemoth to dispatch. I would quickly slam the door shut, putting the apartment on lockdown. Spinning around the wall divider, I would pull out the shotgun from its place on the wall, load it with an insecticide dart, and pull back the bolt. It's go time.

In reality, life is a lot less interesting. That said, I might be proven wrong when my roommates come up with a new way of retaliating against our enemies. Setting them on fire could prove to be mere child's play.

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It's almost 12.30, and I'm still in my pajamas. I plan on cleaning the apartment today while blasting music that I love, but my roommates would almost certainly find unbearable, starting with Clap Your Hands Say Yeah.

Working the swing shift is pretty crappy, yes, but it has its benefits.

(spin, twirl, leap!)

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Yes, it's another concert review. Even if you aren't a fan of indie rock like I am, you're going to want to read this anyway, because I make a non-music related point at the end.

Genuine and I went to Thanksgiving Point last night to take in the joint LCD Soundsystem/Arcade Fire concert. I've been excited about this ever since I read about it on Pitchfork, but, strangely, I didn't feel much one way or the other during the day. Listening to LCD Soundsystem over the previous week helped get me more familiar with the music, but I still felt somewhat removed from it. Even sitting in the amphitheater, I felt somewhat indifferent about the show.

That all changed in a hurry.

LCD Soundsystem took the stage to almost no fanfare. I don't think most people even realized they were on the stage until they started playing. Normally, the house lights dim before a band starts to play, but since we were outside, the only sign we had of their arrival was the opening notes of "Us v. Them" coming from the stage. All of the indifference and lethargy I had immediately disappeared. This was a band that put on an entertaining show. Front man James Murphy came out wearing what looked like 3-D glasses. He seemed to be having the time of his life playing for us. The energy was contagious - before long, we were moving and swaying about, too. "North American Scum" really got things moving; more than half the crowd seemed to have been there solely to hear that song. (Genuine got a huge kick out of the song, shouting "North America!" along with the chorus.) Their set ended after exactly one hour, and I felt completely fulfilled. I could have gone home perfectly happy after that one set (provided, of course, that I had only paid for one set).

And then.

It was already dark outside, so they couldn't darken the lights further. Instead, they raised them, shining the Neon Bible image some twenty times across the stage, creating a backdrop of what looked like red, glowing, skeletal spiders. All ten (ten!) members of the band walked out to the cacophonous opening sounds of "Black Mirror," dressed in various outfits of black. (Comment from Genuine: "They look Satanic.") They weren't quite what I was expecting; I wouldn't have been surprised to have seen an emaciated bat swoop down from the scaffolding during that first song. Lead singer Win Butler was wearing a black shirt with glow-in-the-dark strips on it, so you could almost see him when the lights fell between songs. I was worried it was going to be a dark show, but things lightened up almost immediately with "Neighborhood #2 (Laika)." This was a band with energy. Seeing ten people on the stage all moving around crazily was enough to set the crowd moving. I was dancing more than I had at any other concert. (After the show ended, I noticed that I was nearly two inches lower than at the start, due to my stomping and dancing. This was a triumph, in my mind.) Not only were the band full of energy, but they let it go in all sorts of creative ways. In addition to the main drummer in the back, two band members had drumsticks in the front and were hitting anything they could find. One of them was hitting motorcycle helmets mounted on poles; another was climbing on the scaffolding and hitting random poles and pipes. It was a sight to see. Every one of them was having a blast. We were, too. It seemed to be a poignant show for Butler, who said he spent time in the Wasatch mountains as a child fishing with his grandfather. In his memory, he played "Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)" for us, which made the song even more incredible. (I've referenced the song twice before on this blog, once at the end of the fall 2006 semester, and once in the blog's tagline, "from my window to yours.") Their set lasted nearly two hours, but I would have stayed for twice that listening to them play. It was easily the best concert I've ever been to, and I'm including that Joanna Newsom concert from last November.

But now, the reason those of you who haven't even heard of Arcade Fire are still reading this. More than any other concert I've been to, I felt completely at home here. People of all shapes, sizes, and appearances were at this concert, and I felt that we all had a connection. It was cold outside, so many people brought blankets. When Arcade Fire took the stage, hundreds of people ran up to be closer to them, leaving their blankets behind. No one took anything. No one even thought about it. For a couple of hours, we were all brothers and sisters, just there to enjoy some good music. I could feel it the whole time, but perhaps not better than during "Intervention," when I heard a thousand people shout out simultaneously, "Who's going to reset the bone?"

It was the closest to Zion I'd ever been, the occasional puff of cigarette smoke blowing past my face notwithstanding.

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Happy International Talk Like a Pirate Day!

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Live, from Diamond Fork Junior High School in Spanish Fork, Utah, it's Mr. Optimistic.'s class!

I'm substituting for a woodworking teacher for the day today, and even though I don't know the first thing about woodworking, I'm having a blast. I had my doubts after this summer about whether or not I was supposed to be teaching, but today has reminded me that I really do enjoy this. I like going around and helping kids understand an assignment. I like yelling at kids to get back in their seats. I like standing up with my tie and tag on telling everyone who I am (and having a "Mr." in front of my name). It's great.

Despite being the busiest I've ever been, life is really good, friends.

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Being along isn't entirely without benefits. I'm up in Salt Lake right now working as a translator for a conferences, so they're putting me up in a hotel. It's not the ritziest hotel in the world, but it's pretty nice, and I have the room all to myself. I was able to sprawl out over two beds without worrying about getting in anyone's way. When I noticed the clothes I was wearing needed ironing, I just took them off and ironed them. (In retrospect, I should have drawn the curtains first, even though I was on the tenth floor.) I took myself to the Olive Garden for dinner and felt no guilt whatsoever at picking through the bowl of salad for the tomatoes and croutons. Once safely back in my room, I watched SportsCenter while clipping my toenails. All told, it was a pretty relaxing night.

Laying in the darkness in my too-large bed, however, I grew a little wistful. Being on your own is pleasant for a while, but it would have been more so with one more. It was nice to sprawl my things over two beds, but it would have been nicer to have someone mad at me for taking up her bed. (We both could have fit in one bed easily, but that's another matter entirely.) It was a treat to have a solely tomato and crouton salad, but it would have been a delight to have fought with her for them, even though she doesn't particularly care for tomatoes. (It's a metaphor, friends. Stay with me.) I suppose this is what it feels like to be without one's "better half," to use the cliche.

I was awoken at about 12.30 to a vicious pounding at my door that filled the room. My roommmate (who didn't show up for work that morning, which led me to assume he wasn't coming at all) was shouting to me to open the door. While I had been pining for companionship, his wasn't exactly what I was yearning for.