“Who remembers when it all began…”

Orange has become fully ingrained in fashion, foreshadowed by last year in Italy and prior avant garde individuality. With the world painted through no effort of my own, what need I to do; what *am* I to do? And yet, gratifyingly, with the world tending to itself, in a place where it was 2500 years ago, there is actually internal optimism.

“…Before the whole world was in our hands / Out here in no man's land…”

Astronomy
Bathing
Clue
Driving
Enemies
Fluorescent lights
Gemstones
Hugs
Indigo
Jeopardy
Kaleidoscope
Love
Mazes
Newspaper
Obama
Pasta
Quotations
Russian Roulette
Soap Operas
Time travel
Utilitarianism
Virginity
Waffles
Xerox machines
Youth
Zero

It’s easier to say 26 things than 1.

Even at the novel’s beginning, the character I most hated was the narrator, being not Stoically objective enough. It is the Greek Chorus, delivering a letter and bringing news and sharing common observations; wanting to be the star, it must settle for directing. “Atonement” is not its story, no matter how much it wants it to be.

Unreliability of witnesses adds a new dimension: is better to lie, or to tell something that seems to be true from one's perspective but isn't. Having lied, for what reason should truth later be told? The WW2 flight (with the scenestealing Nettle and Mace) is laced with lying to survive, although ironically as it turns out.

Even though I have seen it before elsewhere (Odyssey, Eco, Scrubs, myself), the conceit is good to see again.

(Sorry it took so long.)

There is something grand about the elegant process by which single becomes plural, especially with shiny machines full of options, colors, and a glorious efficient speed. Even tending to a jammed machine is a talent, with such satisfaction when one can cancel a call to the paramedics because of CPR performed.

Shredding, however, I despise. If copying is creation, shredding is destruction, a violent process cynically testifying to misanthropy, opting for ruin over recycling.

Every job I have had has involved copy machines in some way, to my delight, would that this streak continue to repeat.

Every Friday.

“I’m only happy when it rains…”

“Would you like me to make a list of all the people who don't like you?”

I’m somewhat surprised, trying to list pet peeves, how few actions I loathe.

Do you know who his daughter is?
Rashida Jones?
Yeah!
You totally did not expect me to get that.
No!

Did you see M[]’s desk?
“The Swedish fish?”
Yeah. Did you see the note?
“Note?”
It explained how I was inspired by the sea lion show, and figured we could use some positive reinforcement whenever we shelve a cart, or find an invoice, or balance a ball on our nose.
“I’ve already had 8.”
Then I guess you’re really good at balancing balls on your nose. <pause> I didn’t even mean that.

“He said, “Reese’s Pieces, Swedish Fish…”

The Platonic Ideal of a Fish is Swedish.

While watching the sea lion show, I realized that what Trade really could use is more positive reinforcement. So, you can give us one of these now, whenever one of us files an inovoice, or shelves a cart, or balances a ball on our nose.

What happened to Pythagoras?

Go fourth and conquer.

No, I really hate that guy.

Pasta types should not be blended.

It’s a combination of customer service and protect the country.

“Are you a terrorist?”
What type of answer are you expecting?

“Cheeseburger in Paradise: I think it is *actually* about cheeseburgers. It is the one song that is not about love *or* drugs that I have encountered. Prove me wrong.”
Thermonuclear war is a big third category.
“Name me a couple about that.”
99 Luftballoons, We Didn't Start the Fire.

Sex, drugs, and rock & roll.

“Is Forever Young about drugs or sex?”
Thermonuclear war.
“I guess that makes sense. Maybe.”
I'm not even kidding. I would have said thermonuclear war no matter what song you mentioned. But, it is.

“It knows its lines / It’s well rehearsed…”

Discovering that a song that I enjoy is really about drugs, in a how-did-I-not-see-that-before kind of way, keeps me up at night.

“…Dream on…”

“Everytime that I look in the mirror…”
Dreaming of someone who’s dreaming of me.
“…The past is gone…”
Dreaming of someone who’s dreaming of who I’m dreaming of.
“…Got to lose to know how to win…”
Dreaming of someone who’s dreaming of who I dreamt of.
“…All the things come back…”
Dreaming of someone who I dreamt of.
“…Dream on…”

Loyalty is stronger than obligation. Ideals are bigger than people. Self-identity cannot be constrained by others; it bursts out in a battle of defiance, with the caliber of strength usually reserved for mid-epic digressions. Someone else can point out aesthetic, but it can only be recognized as a means and an end. Questions get asked, games get played. No matter what democracy tries to do, the Constitution will remain.

Deep down I think I might be an optimist.

<smiles>

“A working class hero is something to be…”

I play scrabble like I play poker.

Photo finish.

Borrowed time.

Although not without exception, the lack of prominence of the u-sound in girls’ names does indicate why this antieuphonic sound is so common among names used in past generations but not now.

The best thing about half a bottle of vodka is that it comes in 2-packs.

Euclidean : Non-Euclidean :: Optimism : Pessimism

(Corollary: the more complex it gets, the more pessimistic it becomes.)

“After killing Jason off and countless screaming Argonauts…”

A boat falls on a minotaur and orc. A manticore applauds.

Paging over the store intercom.
Hiding from tornadoes.
Calling the paramedics.
Ordering pizza to be delivered.
Evaluating employees.
Collapsing bookshelf.

Ring up the insanity.

Saw Indiana Jones 4. The need for a decent name for this decade is even more necessary, with a movie revealing how the this decade would see the 50s are shown by the 80s viewing the 30s. The movie itself was pleasantly enjoyable, particularly the second half, when it was no longer necessary to repeatedly establish that, yes, Harrison Ford is old.

Rant or banter.

It’s like sex- it's for pleasure and you need a good partner.

“Vote Hillary, because a deaf god ignores our pleas.”

Doing anything to win won’t.

There is a bijective isomorphism between my college life and my Away Messages.

I think I might be so unstressed I’m not sleeping well.

Sociopaths usually are more decent liars than this.

After hiatus, doubled in the SI, although my best entry did got regretfully edited to be less cryptic. Though I had a lot of rejecteds which nevertheless quite amused me.

$0$ + I See Debt, People = $.06
MARC Train + Fast Listening = Lent Me Your Ears
The Scarlet Pimp + Letter of the Law = Red E Whore Not
Bugs Stops Here + Hamburger Hamlet = Fuddruckers
Oh, He's Only 71 + There Will Be Bud = Older And Weiser
Lucky Human's Foot + Best in Shoe = Cinderella
Perm und Drang + Who Framed Roger = Bad Hare Day
What Goes Around + Cut and Run = Belt Buckle
Acid Trip + AZ the World Turns = pHoenix
Samuel Longhorn + Text Mex = Samuel TildeN
Bullshirt + Hits the Fan = 3ShirtsToTheWind
Tyger Tyger + $0$ = Fearful Symmetry
Potter's Weal + There Will Be Bud = Medicinal Use Only
Hoss's Ass + ReplyHazy TryAgain = Behind The 8 Ball
Ponderosé + Pants on Fire = Peterosé

Comedic drama has many words to describe its various forms: farce, parody, sketch, etc. But there is no variety to identify a nuance of tragedy, no diminutive term to denote a slight one. Therefore, if one comes across what might be a little bit of such, it is best to not stare too closely, to circle around warily, to signal an assassin, and- like the Cardinals defeating the Astros 3-2 in unfortunately just over 2 hours- to overcome it swiftly, decisively, and victoriously.

I was intending to commit mail fraud, but it turns out I was stealing something intended for me, which, having the wrong name and address, got misdelivered.

The reason to have someone exist is so that I can IM them to say, Be more like me!

Pending.

[Bowling tonight?]

“Now is the winter of our discontent…”

Fires left burning, parties thrown yesteryear echoing out open lit windows, links to laughter heard once somewhere. Romanticized nostalgia, nostalgic romance. History, a vehicle in motion, in Park.

Day for Memorials, and I have so many here.

“…Made glorious summer…”

Old is new again.

[If anyone is seeing Indiana Jones 4, let me know.]

Maybe it’s because college is over, it’s not so hard any more.
Thai pizza has finally been eaten.

That's the worst kind of illogic. And I don't always disapprove of illogic.

I hate guessing what something might be; I’d rather guess what it mightn't.

I am using a lot of double+ negatives tonight.

“We were having a conversation about boobs, and you perk up at “peeing on my feet”.”
“I have a funny story about that! So, we were at the Olive Garden…”

The problem with cleaning things up is that they just get dirty again.
This is not a problem.

“Orange nipples do not help you escape predators.”

Well I Guess That's All Over With Now

[Tonight, 6pm, 6611 Wash Ave. Apt. 1S. If you’re in STL, show up. Cell if questions. There will be food; I’m thinking gnocchi?]

No baggage.

“Let’s play pretend / Let's act like it comes naturally…”

Well, that’s all over with.

“…Let’s go back to that…”

Okay, now what.

“…I’ll be so much better…”

“Universitas Washingtoniana
Sancti Ludovici
in Civitate Missouriensi
salutem omnibus has litteras lecturis quibus nos infrascripti,
morem exemplumque maiorum secuti
cum doctrinam adeptos tum ipsam doctrinam in comitiis sollemnibus honore augendi,
testamur nos ornavisse…”

[profile temporarily utilized for space]

“…perfectis omnibus quae requiruntur probataque eruditione laudabili,
gradu atque titulo
Artium Baccalaurei
universali cum honore
eique concessisse omnia iura privilegia beneficia huic gradu pertinentia,
in cuius rei testimonio nos pro auctoritate nobis commissa hisce litteris Universitatis sigillo munitis
subscripsimus nomina nostra die XVI mensis Maii anno MMVIII.”

“I am done with college.”
I like to think of it as college is done with me.

Full circle.

Last meal
Pasta e fagioli
Gnocchi in tomato cream sauce
Leg of lamb
Softshell crab
Ricotta cheesecake

I was mingling to pick up an extra dessert and to help convince C[] to go over to the Chancellor’s table and tell him what he thought of the whole Phyllis Schlafly thing. He did…
“Excellent.”
…And I got a second cheesecake.

Ent : not tree :: shepherd : not sheep

This is the type of thing I’m going to miss.

Keep moving.

Bravman’s Razor
All other things being equal, the most complicated solution is best.

I would be more successful if I were having less fun.

I’m not sure which is more wrong: the statement or the definition of successful. At least I know for sure I've gotten something out of college.

1) You're hungry. 2) You're craving a specific food. This isn't a hard one.
“But you're forgetting 3) I'm lazy.”
Okay, I forgive you. Also, this might become an Away Message soon.
“Well make sure to edit it suck that I have proper grammar. Um. Such. Not suck.”
That also might become an Away Message soon.
“I thought you might say that.”
I'll take an easy one.

This might become easy soon.

“I am going to go buy good. Er, food.”
Good for you. Er, food for you.

Epic conclusion

"SUSPICIOUSLY SHAMEFUL"
or
"WHISTLING DIXIE"
a two-act play in one act
adapted for the stage by
DANNY BRAVMAN
for
NO SHAME THEATRE
at
WASHINGTON UNIVERSITY
in
SAINT LOUIS
on
MAY 7, 2008
starring
FIVE GUYS
FIVE GIRLS
and
SATHYA SRIDHARAN

“He speaks in riddles… I do not comprehend!”

“I don’t care if…”

Calendar Quiz

“1. What happened in Philadelphia and London on Tuesday, September 8, 1752?
2. What month did the October Revolution occur in?
3. Why are July and August the same length?
4. You there! What day is this?!”

What the dickens.

The only one of these I had to look up was 4. Tuesday. May 6. I'm not even sure that's right.
“The correct response is "Why today sir? It's Christmas day!"”

what time is it in bloomington
no really.what time is it

“…Tuesday's grey and Wednesday too…”

“Monday morning, hesitate / I can’t get out of bed…”

Jello Theory
You want Jello.
But it takes overnight to set, and you won’t want it in the morning.
And for this reasoning you didn’t make Jello last night.
Therefore, make it tonight, so that when the same thing happens tomorrow night, you won’t not have made it.

“…A box of memories lying…”

It’s never too late for the Jello Theory.

“…It’s too late / to let all your feelings show…”

It’s never too late for Jello.

“…Running out of time tonight…”

It’s never too late.

“…It’s too late…”

Do not watch Lost while feverish.

I got this crazy idea that Matthew Fox was actually Sawyer and Josh Holloway was actually Jack. No, really. Hear me out.

Check plus, mate in, 3.
I need to have taken more classes with Laura Castanon.

“There are spacegoats in my paper.”

Too many pages.

The worst thing about a Chipotle opening a block away is having its Free Burrito Day occurring during Passover.

“In the end…”

Whenever someone says that they are unfamiliar with a given plot, I immediately instinctively inform them that the relevant character dies in the end. (With some obvious exceptions, eg: Memento “they die in the beginning”; Titanic “it sinks”) Mostly this preemptively guards against any accidental blurting of a spoiler I might make. However, it is also remarkable how often it happens to be either true or interesting.

Tonight things end.

“…What it meant to me will eventually be a memory…”

Where the WILD things are.
(Last class -> first WILD, by way of once per semester frisbee.)

“Everybody has to be someplace.”

In a Philadelphia in “The Philadelphia” in Olin 2 at 2pm.

“Everyone like the scene?”
No. Can we do a different one?

Feasting on lambrosia.

(Cena Deorum)

“I woke up with a feeling that something bad was going to happen. Are things good where you are?”

It’s easy to miss something you’re not looking for.

DreamR[] is a very bad driver.
"RealLifeR[] is probably a worse driver."

The advantage of procrastinating cleaning one’s kitchen is that instead of with a pun comparing it to the Iraq War, one can accurately compare it to an earthquake disaster zone.

Inconsistent.

The afikomen could be hidden inside a turducken to ensure that, by the time dinner is finished, the meal is.

"The man is pointing his remote at the tent wall."
It's a rerun.

Most Mysterious Enigma Wrapped in a Riddle

"She's serving chopped up scraps of the tent."
They're leftovers.

Thank you very much; were Suspicious of Whistlers!

That's more than 1 word.

Show up for free food:
Final improv performance, tonight, 8pm, LabSci 300, free.

(Ends the same way it began.)

If I get a koi pond, it will be stocked with 500-pound salmon.

“No sex, no drugs, no wine, no women…”

Just what the Dr ordered.

“…No fun, no sin, no you, no wonder it's dark…”

This might be me.

It’s probably for the best that I decided not to use my carefully orchestrated Hugh Laurie-should-play-Cicero tangent.

If I seem incoherent, I am.

But who shall construct an elaborate deathtrap for the constructors of elaborate deathtraps?

Someone’s got to do it.

Nevermind, I think I've answered my own question.
“That’s a problem is search of a solution.”
It’s a solution in search of a problem.

What would happen to the promo CD if its owner were to die, if disposing of promo CDs is illegal?
Therefore, promo CDs cause immortality.

Why reductio ad absurdum, when I can live with it?

I vote not making decisions.

“Caesar can give you money and honor, but he can't make you an orator.”

Will have to wait for Cicero.

Starting a Tuesday at 12:05am really sets the tone for the rest of the day.

“…And we're gonna play it…”

“How was?”
I’ve had better; I’ve had worse.
“That describes all but 2.”

Should fall somewhere.

Somehow it has taken me over 95% of my college life to deliver extra large raw shrimp ordered to the library to be paid for by check or cash. And doing it feels somewhat normal.

Places spin around, people are thrown together. Clocks reset, times fly, hands spread, backs flip. Cards are dealt and on the table. Words rush out, incomprehensible symbols, lines etched in your memory that you’ve never heard before or since. Spread the poison around. The name sounds familiar; it’s like your own only you forgot it. The end is an echo of the beginning, and both are fast approaching from either side. Late to bed, early to rise: nothing to do but dance the night away with friends. There is a plan: there is no plan.

Through a haze of impossible madness a rhythm emerges.

“…Can’t stop raving / I can’t stop raving / I can’t…”

General excel strategy: vigorous rightclicking.

10-30 Rule
f(t) is constant for 10 < t < 30, where f(x) = the consequence of being x minutes late.

Tolkien : history :: Eco : semiotics

He’s the most A[]-like person I know who isn’t A[].
“But didn’t A[]…?”
Well, yes. But A[] is better at being A[] than G[] is.

One of these days I’ll remember why I’m bothering.

The kid has so little subtlety, he actually thinks he's subtle.

Not proud of this one.

A guy goes to a psychiatrist, and says, "I keep having these alternating recurring dreams. First I'm a teepee, then I'm a wigwam, then I'm a teepee, then I'm a wigwam. It's driving me crazy. What's wrong with me?" The doctor replies, "It's very simple… you're two tents."

“We welcome your submission and thank you for liking it.”

Libellous.

The basic metrical unit of sketchiness is the peter. However, for everyday purposes, one will be using smaller amounts, such as the millipeter or the centipeter.

“As you set out for Ithaka…”

You set out not for adventure; you had the adventure already; it was called the “Iliad”, and it was 10 years, and is more adventure than most will get ever. Your soul must have Laestrygonians and Cyclops so that when you finally go you can lie about who you are and where you’ve been and what took you so long; wild Poseidon must be invented so that the Muse has some wrath to sing of to justify your absence, dallying in wealth instead of hurrying to an Ithaca now as empty as the experiences you claim you had. Drop your burdening oar when it is finally unrecognized: no one understands except you, and you’re done.

“Odyssey” isn’t the story of a journey. “Odyssey” is the story of Odysseus, and Odysseus is a liar.

“Lumen qui ferimus.
Animos tibi damus.
Antiquum tuum tibi placet.
Hoc spes nostra docet.
Spectant te iuvenes.
O lumen semper des.
Fidem servabimus tibi…”

Eta Sigma Phi

“Is my cheeseburger causing global warming?”

Take another look: paper, papers, act, acts.

Come for the grammar, stay for the ridicule.

“Why would she do that?”
Pleasure; I’m assuming it wasn’t procreative.

There will be Vader.

“I’m finished.”

Every Friday is Good Friday at Fuddruckers. Especially with a beef taco salad and a vanilla shake.

(Suspicious of Whistlers, Presented by Fuddruckers, 8pm tonight, Gargoyle, free improv.)

This year I gave up giving things up for Lent for Lent.

1) The Orbit Gum Girl has a British accent
2) Keira Knightly has a British accent.
3) Keira Knightly is a 34B.
4) A[] is a 34B.
5) I dated A[].
Therefore: I have dated the Orbit Gum Girl QED
"You'd need less deduction if I were blonde."

Illogic is more powerful than logic; it does everything logic can do (for what is more illogical than illogic using logic?) as well as everything logic can’t do.

“But your illogic fails: Keira Knightley is *not* a 34B. She is definitely an A or AA. And I’m currently an 80E."

“I want you to marry me, baby.”
“That's the wrong hand and you have to ask me first.”

Fortuitously paraded, bacchanalianly green.

Unceremoniously empty, consistently preserved.

Prophetically calamitous, betrayingly undeparted.

Constantly irrational, infinitely long.