There's always this bizarre dose of optimism that overcomes you like a nasty rash the morning after a one-night stand when you suddenly experiment with routine, completely change the people you hang around with, and just generally throw caution to the wind and forget the consequences. Perhaps the good feeling of knowing you're accelerating your mental, and, in this case, physical growth is the contributing factor behind this happiness. Perhaps the change in scenery is refreshing enough for you to prance like a gay little ninny. I believe the point I'm trying arduously to make is that I'm not a whinging little shit any more. I actually feel remarkably ashamed that I was so depressed in a land of opportunity.
Although I still feel as though I need to make a few qualifying statements. There are definitely problems here. The postage service is slightly faster than the Pony Express and when you've been hopelessly hooked on Netflix for the past eleven months, it's like holding a bag of heroin just out of an addict's reach. There's no culture here, other than partying. Everyone is still fixated on partying, getting laid, and drinking themselves onto a transplant table. I'm all for that, but I do have these crises of conscience that demand me to go visit the nearest independent movie theater, something very distressing because there are none. The food is akin to dumpster diving in the slums of Mumbai, slowly poisoning your body as you cry for more, as the alternatives get remarkably expensive.
What I dig the most of this whole deal is the urgency of academic experience. Everything is short, sweet, and brutal. Teaching assistants seem to be on cocaine, and professors disappear into the darkness the instant their class is over. It truly is a dog-eat-dog world, which I kind of get off on. Any success makes me incredibly happy, if only for a few moments. But UCSB is remarkably challenging, I do have to say. I'm behind on my reading, and I have a midterm on Friday. Let's do it.
PS. You would think a beautiful beach community never sees rain, but apparently the man responsible for the weather down here showed up drunk on the job.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Friday, October 9, 2009
Retrofitted
In a perhaps futile attempt to turn this blog back onto it's intended path, a vent for my various incoherent and hateful rants as established so damn long ago, I will now rant on the state of governmental affairs in America. You know, the Obama administration, whose capabilities seem only to be yapping about fixing everything. The Democrat controlled Congress and Senate that would pass a mandate forcing all racial minorities into concentration camps on the North Pole. What do these two things have in common? Their complete ineptitude? Their utter intellectuality? Correct, reader!
I am going to echo Bill Maher here when I say that Barack Obama needs a bit of George W. Bush in him. Bush did terrible things while in office; force the country into a quagmire in Iraq, wiretapped citizens, let greed run amok on Wall Street, and turned the country into as close a police state as we've ever been. But the crucial difference is that he got things done. He didn't beg for permission from his Daddy or wait for Congressional approval before attacking Saddam, he just got it done. And that's what Obama needs to do. He needs to push all of his new ideas, great ideas, mind you, onto the American people and force them to accept that yes, poor people are getting medical coverage no matter what you titwhistles keep blithering on about. Yes, I am going to keep kids in school. Yes, I am going to reduce carbon emissions. Yes, I am going to close Guantanamo Bay. Yes, I am going to invest in renewable infrastructure. Get the fuck over it. Obama has smarts, there's absolutely no doubting that. What he lacks, however, like all Democrats, is a spine. Stop trying to appease the crazies, Mr. President. They're going to stay insane, and no amount of reasonable rhetoric is going to penetrate their ten-inch thick skulls.
Next, we have a Congress that is more inept than Mr. Bean in a shoe factory. There is an overwhelming majority of Democrats in both houses and the Republicans are running like a schoolgirl would from a spider. Their ineffectual rhetoric about Socialism and Fascism gets parroted with every leader they disagree with, do not listen to them. Do not attempt to reach across the aisle. You're not Ted Kennedy, just fucking get some shit done. It doesn't even matter what! Fix health care! Impose regulations on Wall Street! Wash a car! Just stop reminding the American people that you're completely incompetent. The best ideas, at the moment, come from the left. But the Democrats are like a child with a chainsaw; has all sorts of ideas of what to do with it, but when he actually gets it, all he does is hack off his mother's legs.
In conclusion, the situation as it is sucks a lot. "Change We Can Believe In," as with most political slogans, is a load of shit. The only change we can enact is impeaching Obama and replacing him with a frog or something. Because at least then we could say we elected the first frog-president.
PS. Tune in next time when I describe my political affiliations, as if anyone cares.
I am going to echo Bill Maher here when I say that Barack Obama needs a bit of George W. Bush in him. Bush did terrible things while in office; force the country into a quagmire in Iraq, wiretapped citizens, let greed run amok on Wall Street, and turned the country into as close a police state as we've ever been. But the crucial difference is that he got things done. He didn't beg for permission from his Daddy or wait for Congressional approval before attacking Saddam, he just got it done. And that's what Obama needs to do. He needs to push all of his new ideas, great ideas, mind you, onto the American people and force them to accept that yes, poor people are getting medical coverage no matter what you titwhistles keep blithering on about. Yes, I am going to keep kids in school. Yes, I am going to reduce carbon emissions. Yes, I am going to close Guantanamo Bay. Yes, I am going to invest in renewable infrastructure. Get the fuck over it. Obama has smarts, there's absolutely no doubting that. What he lacks, however, like all Democrats, is a spine. Stop trying to appease the crazies, Mr. President. They're going to stay insane, and no amount of reasonable rhetoric is going to penetrate their ten-inch thick skulls.
Next, we have a Congress that is more inept than Mr. Bean in a shoe factory. There is an overwhelming majority of Democrats in both houses and the Republicans are running like a schoolgirl would from a spider. Their ineffectual rhetoric about Socialism and Fascism gets parroted with every leader they disagree with, do not listen to them. Do not attempt to reach across the aisle. You're not Ted Kennedy, just fucking get some shit done. It doesn't even matter what! Fix health care! Impose regulations on Wall Street! Wash a car! Just stop reminding the American people that you're completely incompetent. The best ideas, at the moment, come from the left. But the Democrats are like a child with a chainsaw; has all sorts of ideas of what to do with it, but when he actually gets it, all he does is hack off his mother's legs.
In conclusion, the situation as it is sucks a lot. "Change We Can Believe In," as with most political slogans, is a load of shit. The only change we can enact is impeaching Obama and replacing him with a frog or something. Because at least then we could say we elected the first frog-president.
PS. Tune in next time when I describe my political affiliations, as if anyone cares.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Bloggy blog blog
It is perhaps with a degree of cautious optimism that I say I am beginning to dig the vibe of this place. Sure, the utter lack of movie venues and other cultural bastions (where are all the museums for all the boring, stuffy people?!) make me want to cough up chunks of my pancreas, but there's definitely a lot to like, as well. The attitude everyone has is mostly carefree, which isn't exclusive to just the student body; the professors and teaching assistants are the same way. If you try, you'll get a rewarding experience. If not, whatever. Nobody is much hostile to anyone else, and everyone is very chummy. Even this stumbling drunkard who vomited all over the Theta house and destroyed parts of their fence was treated very well, which was quite the show.
The other cool thing about this place is how self-centered it encourages you to be, but perhaps that's just my ornery self rationalizing my disgust for human beings. Staying in your room, listening to death metal, and just chilling isn't looked down upon. Encouraged, even. Sure, you might feel a little bad for not indulging in the party scene because it's so in-your-face, but for the most part, people won't make you feel bad for not wanting to party. Furthermore, as all the males seem to be cut from the granite that built the columns of Mount Olympus, going to the gym is an absolute necessity. Even if you're extremely secure and don't mind showing off your obnoxiously large gut to random passerby, watching a gaggle of perfectly tan and shapely girls being accompanied by guys with builds like Abercrombie models still compels you to work out. And damn, does it feel good to exercise, as I covered in the previous entry.
Still, a handful of complaints continue to nibble at my shins like a starved puppy dog. A lot of the people seem to be cut from the same cloth, to the point where I honestly cannot distinguish one person from another. Girls are all so buxom and beautiful that I have trouble telling them apart. Guys hoot and holler about their infeasibly gigantic muscles to the point where I just shut off my brain and just guess people's names. Also, being the antisocial caveman recluse I am, eating alone in the dining commons makes me feel incredibly crappy and exposed for some inexplicable reason, but that could just be the food tearing a hole in my gut. Eating well at Santa Barbara is a notion founded in myth and fairy tales. If you want to eat well, prepare to pay an arm and a leg at one of the off-campus places. Otherwise, make due with the dumpster dinner they provide you. By God, the food here has wreaked havoc on my digestive system.
To conclude, I definitely feel more at home here. I suppose I was right (as per usual!). I just needed the quarter to start. The avalanche of work and extremely interesting classes has abated my miseries, at least for now. I'm sure once midterms and papers start rolling in, I'll want to throw myself off Storke Tower like I did when I first got here.
PS. I can't wait to go home just because the postal system here is like living in the 18th century.
The other cool thing about this place is how self-centered it encourages you to be, but perhaps that's just my ornery self rationalizing my disgust for human beings. Staying in your room, listening to death metal, and just chilling isn't looked down upon. Encouraged, even. Sure, you might feel a little bad for not indulging in the party scene because it's so in-your-face, but for the most part, people won't make you feel bad for not wanting to party. Furthermore, as all the males seem to be cut from the granite that built the columns of Mount Olympus, going to the gym is an absolute necessity. Even if you're extremely secure and don't mind showing off your obnoxiously large gut to random passerby, watching a gaggle of perfectly tan and shapely girls being accompanied by guys with builds like Abercrombie models still compels you to work out. And damn, does it feel good to exercise, as I covered in the previous entry.
Still, a handful of complaints continue to nibble at my shins like a starved puppy dog. A lot of the people seem to be cut from the same cloth, to the point where I honestly cannot distinguish one person from another. Girls are all so buxom and beautiful that I have trouble telling them apart. Guys hoot and holler about their infeasibly gigantic muscles to the point where I just shut off my brain and just guess people's names. Also, being the antisocial caveman recluse I am, eating alone in the dining commons makes me feel incredibly crappy and exposed for some inexplicable reason, but that could just be the food tearing a hole in my gut. Eating well at Santa Barbara is a notion founded in myth and fairy tales. If you want to eat well, prepare to pay an arm and a leg at one of the off-campus places. Otherwise, make due with the dumpster dinner they provide you. By God, the food here has wreaked havoc on my digestive system.
To conclude, I definitely feel more at home here. I suppose I was right (as per usual!). I just needed the quarter to start. The avalanche of work and extremely interesting classes has abated my miseries, at least for now. I'm sure once midterms and papers start rolling in, I'll want to throw myself off Storke Tower like I did when I first got here.
PS. I can't wait to go home just because the postal system here is like living in the 18th century.
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