Super Bowl Preview

Even more brilliant than my "the better looking candidate always wins the presidency and the better looking he is than the other guy dictates how much he'll win by" theory is my "the Super Bowl mascot that would win a battle between the two represents the team that always wins." Think about it.

Or don't. I didn't really think about it until this moment, so this totally might not be true. Although, last year it was the Steelers and the Seahawks and I think it's perfectly reasonable to think that a well-armed steel worker could maim a seahawk. And before that, the Patriots beat the Eagles and I think a Patriot with a musket could likely take out an Eagle (but, obviously, the legitimacy of the title of "patriot" would brought into extreme question, killing an Eagle and all).

So that brings up to this year's match-up. Who you got?

vs.

Venting

See that vent at the top of this picture? The one in-between the cat statue and the upside boxes? The one above the kitchen windows?


It's been making noise. More specifically, the bird stuck inside has been making noise. It's fairly uncomfortable, probably more for the bird than me really, but still. I wanna be a good vegan -- I want to make sure I'm worthy of the Humane Society and PETA membership cards I carry in my wallet -- but it doesn't seem like there's a heck of a lot I can do for the bird besides root for it to get out. So, go bird! I'm pulling for you.

Hey, I didn't put a picture on that last entry!

Geez, after giving you visuals for so long, I can't suddenly just stop. So here's a picture of me juggling. Hopefully this makes everything better.

WMU College Republicans Rule!

WMU College Republicans nation's best

Congratulation, WMU College Republicans for all the fine work you've done in the years I've been at Western! You always bring in innovative thinkers who really do their part to create a discourse about our nation's issues while never bringing the discussion to the level of inane name-calling and blind partisanship. People like Ann Coulter who was here, not for her (alleged) sensationalism that would certainly create headlines but because of her strong ties to academia (of course, Western doesn't have a law school, but I'm sure there was a good reason she was here beyond the fact that she'd make those liberals mad. Right?)

Congratulations to the College Republicans for their great effort a couple of years ago when, to promote a Pat Buchanan reading on campus that happened to fall on Cesar Chavez Day, they posted flyers that read "Viva Buchanan," something that isn't at all racist or discriminatory, especially in light of the open and loving relationship Buchanan has long had with our Mexican neighbors.

And at long last these college Republicans are being recognized for their intelligence and insight. The week before the above mentioned Buchanan reading, a friend and I attended one of their meetings and, when someone asked, "Who is Cesar Chavez?" no one seemed to know, instead at first giving a description of Che Gueverra (Che Gueverra!) When someone finally did provide an answer, it was to describe Chavez as "the poor Mexican's Martin Luther King." It's that sensitivity that sets our college Republicans apart.

And let's not forgot the efforts these college Republicans make to brighten up campus, making sure their flyers are everywhere whether it's a place where flyers are permitted or not. And they're great with clean-up too, especially if it's another organization's event and they're against it--they'll show their desire for tidying the campus by taking down those flyers before the event even happens. That's dedication. And besides, who really wants to see An Inconvenient Truth? It's such a downer.

So, good work, College Republicans. You've earned it.

Here's a vegan guy

I was reading through my animal rights propaganda and it told me that my New Year's Resolution should be to display some vegan propaganda on my blog. Since my other New Year's Resolution (the one about eating less barbeque sauce) has gone pretty well (aside from last tuesday's 'drinking from the bottle,' but that was a tough day), I figured I'd post some vegan stuff on my blog. PETA'd probably want me to post something with baby bunnies being fed kitty hearts or something (shame on you KFC!)but I'll opt for this vegan cooking guy instead. And if the chance of being more like this guy doesn't convince you to go vegan, nothing will.

Oh, and for those of you I haven't actually met in the real world, this is pretty much exactly what I'm like. All vegans are like this.

Loy Toaster

So I was reading this article this morning...

Mystery visitor makes 58th appearance at Poe's Grave

And, obviously, it brought up the question of what celebrity/icon/etc. would I like to create the tradition of visiting on an annual basis simply to leave flowers and whatever item I feel represents my relationship with them. And with what celebrity would this ceremony be significant enough to warrant passing on the tradition to my future generations? And what would be and my future children/grandchildren wear to such a ceremony so that we would be recognized as clearly as the "Poe Toaster?"

So here's what I've come up with:

Mina Loy. She was an exceptional artist and writer and her poetry should certainly be more recognized than it currently is--perhaps the pilgrimages undertaken by me and my future generations will bring more attention to her work. That Poe Toaster's got it wrong--what's the use of making a spectacle around the memory of someone who is already more famous than they ought to be?

Besides, she's buried in Aspen and if I'm going to take an annual trek somewhere, it might as well be a vacation spot.

As for what to bring her, she's a writer who turned her nose at the traditional romantic notions of love so roses are out. I think, maybe a flower that has significantly non-romantic overtones would be more fitting. Flower experts out there can advise me as to what that might be.

And, to recognize her poems that satirized a series of travel guides by naming them after a popular series and then making the poems more of an internal guide to travel the self, I will bring a different Frommer's-type travel book about a different place each year and inside each book I will highlight words that could be connected into one of Loy's poems. Hey, if I had time to this pilgrimage, I figure I have time to do a lot of things.

And I'd wear a nice suit and try to look presentable. She was quite the looker back in the day.

So, fair readers, where would your pilgrimage lead you?

Before there was LOST, there was phone sex.

I'm not encouraging you to call this number. Keep that in mind. I just happen to recall a friend of mine referring to the character that the featured actress plays on some tv show or another as the embodiment of "sweaty post-feminism" (and I really shouldn't quote when I don't know the exact words. But whatever).

So, in the life of the actress, perhaps this is pre-feminism.

Still, I hope she met someone nice. And tall.

How 'bout a reading?

So, next Friday, 7:30 PM, 10th Floor, Sprau Tower, Western Michigan U., Kalamazoo, we're going to be throwin' ourselves a literary hootenanny complete -- Third Coast Grad Student Reading style -- with poetry, fiction, and who knows what else (that means just poetry and fiction, if you're wondering). Here are picture of the poets who will be performing that night, complete with bookshelves to add legitimacy. You know this guy. It's Jason Olsen, who promises to read a lot of stuff he's made you listen to before. Sound fun?


And you might know her...it's the lovely Cindy St. John! Her photo's legitimacy is much more, um, legit than mine above because mine is just an imitation. Her poems, of course, have no equal:

And here's Vincent Reusch, an iconoclast to the end. Books behind Vinny? Pashaw. (How does one spell that sound, really?) Give him a lake and some wide open spaces and he can make his own fiction --fiction that would be really really great.

So come and join us. Food and beverage will be provided. Any questions? Requests? Etc.? Post 'em in a comment, will ya?

You Got Yourself a Fish Biscuit!

I know I'm a complete lost cause. Did you notice the implied italics on the word lost in the last sentence? No? Well, I made a batch of Lost-themed cookies a couple months back and I figured I should show a picture of one of those cookies. Here it is:


Oh, did I mention that I took this picture today? As in this cookie has been sitting on my kitchen table for the last few months? Yeah, well, I've been meaning to photograph it for a while, just hadn't gotten around to it.

Anyway, I can throw it out now. I wonder if that will make my house smell any better?

Something Rotting in the Basement

I am indeed back -- spanning the continent from Vegas to Toronto (with an unnecessarily long stay in the airport in Chicago) -- and I am here to discuss an issue that is important to, likely, everyone. Yes, I want to talk about the way my apartment smells.

I was only back in town for a few hours on the terrible travel day after getting back to Kalamazoo (at 2:30 am) before turning around to leave on a bus for a weekend trip to Toronto (at 6:30 am), but I did notice something in the flurry of action and sleep that I managed in those four hours.

My house smells like cat pee. Like, really strong cat pee. It was awful really. For those needing a reminder, here is the leading candidate (of those in my household) to produce horrible smelling feline urine:

Well, after determining the main cause of this problem was likely two towels he had, ahem, marked, the situation in the bathroom -- and the house overall -- was improved. The place smells mostly of bleach now. Which is, if you were wondering, not quite what Bender's pee smells like. His pee smells more like futility and laziness.

This whole "bad smells" thing reminds me of something I was going to blog about before I left for Vegas -- I was minding my own business one fine December day last month, relaxing (not chillaxing, mind you, just relaxing) after lunch, when my wacky upstairs neighbor Amanda came by. Here's the packaged meal I had prepared and eaten that day (something I didn't think was half-bad):

Well, Amanda came into my kitchen and nodded with satisfaction, discovering the source of a smell that had been bothering -- nay, torturing her -- for a few minutes. Enough, evidently, to go downstairs in our shared basement to see if an animal had died and started rotting. Which she told me -- among other descriptions of what my lunch smelled like -- while it sat there in my stomach, likely being a bit offended. In my mind, my Simply Asia meal smelled and tasted fine, but to the outside world it was apparently more like the one out of three restaurants I passed in Toronto's Chinatown that had a pile of vomit sitting outside the front door.

So don't be a strong be a strong smell in my apartment, that's my warning to you. You might be too much for me and my friends to handle.