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Stavrogin's Journal
More posting space
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Can't sleep
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October 29, 2008, 04:37:am
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This is the third night in a row I haven't been able to sleep more than a few hours. I'm worried its going to start adversely effecting my work. I've already started snapping at people I normally am careful around, its only a matter of time before I piss off my boss.
Are sleep problems a psychiatrist or a doctor thing?
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My Birthday Invitation, reproduced in full.
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October 21, 2008, 02:41:am
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October 23rd means many things to many people, it also
happens to be my birthday. Now, there's been a lot of
griping about the fact that I'm asking people to come out on
a Thursday, so I thought I'd give you an historical
perspective on other events that have occurred on the 23rd
of October:
(Hint: If you’re in a hurry, you might want to skip the
laboriously droll intro and go straight to the bottom)
The beginning of the creation of the world in 4004 BC
(According to Archbishop James Ussher, and really, who am I
to argue?).
Centuries later, Brutus would be driven to suicide by his
defeat at the hands of Mark Antony and Octavian (I'm sure
Caesar’s ghost was laughing on the sidelines).
It was the day Colonial forces were beaten by the Canadians
at Quebec. The shame has echoed through the centuries.
To millions of Russians, it was the day in 1917 when they
heard Lenin's call for the Октябрьская революция (if you
follow the Julian calendar, as was the custom of the times).
For 30,000 women, it was the day they agitated for their
right to vote in an October 23rd rally in New York City, a
crucial step on the five year road to winning equal suffrage.
In a heinous act of shameless dorkery, every year since
1982, chemists celebrate Mole Day at 6:02 on 10/23.
And finally, in 2001, Apple released the Ipod.
In addition to these horrible, shameful, and tragic mistakes
of history, it is also a day of various unusual seismic
activities, savagery, and outright brutality, all in all
accounting for some 500,000 sudden deaths by suffocation,
sickness, incineration, mass execution, shooting and
stabbing.
Measured against this backdrop of horror, pointless
slaughter, misery, chemists, Apple, and women's suffrage,
the relatively minor tragedy of my birth hardly seems worth
remarking on. A trivial blemish on a day so rotten with
villainy, indecency, and abject suffering, that really, you
have nothing to complain about from the minor curse of my
acquaintance with you. I know Adam likes to curse the gods
themselves for having been inflicted with me, but, from an
historical perspective, that’s really just the melodrama
innate to all fine arts students. In fact, if having to
come out and wish me a happy birthday is the worst thing
that happens to you Thursday the 23rd, you should count
yourself among the blessed and celebrate. After all, you
could have been amongst the thousands incinerated alive in
Dalnik, Odessa on October 23rd, 1941.
So, to commemorate the countless tragedies that have
occurred on October 23rds throughout the centuries, and to
celebrate your comparatively good fortune in only having to
share an evening with me (I may stink, but not nearly as
badly as the stench of the thousands of bodies that littered
Seville after the outbreak of the Black Death in 1654), we
will be engaging in a night of heavy drinking, carousing,
and generally raucous behavior. Below is a brief itinerary
with rough estimates as to where I plan on being and when:
-------------For those of you who were in a hurry, start
here, you sepulchral, joyless wretches-------
7-9: Kuma’s Corner (2900 W Belmont Ave Chicago, IL 60618
(773) 604-8769). A burger joint that caters to ageing metal
heads. Nice staff (+tattoos!), good beer, and the best
burgers this side of a reluctant vegetarian’s wet dreams.
9:30-12 am -The Double Door (1572 N Milwaukee, Chicago, IL
60622). Electric Six will be playing
(www.myspace.com/electricsixmusic). I can’t really speak to
their newest stuff, but their last three albums are like if
you crossed Foreigner with Motorhead, had a 14 year old boy
write their lyrics, gave them a synthesizer, and then told
them to dress like idiots, get on stage, and act like frat
boys.
12am-?- Those of you who know me know that I don’t really
like to drink too much, or stay out too late. At midnight,
I tend to retire to a nice cup of chamomile tea and the
indelible works of Jane Austen. However, since this is my
birthday, and oh-so-many people have died (or gained the
right to vote and listen to crappy music) on it, I feel it
is only appropriate to tirelessly soldier on in the face of
adversity (just like those Chechen rebels who took 700
Muscovites hostage in the State Theatre 7 years ago this
Thursday). Given the morbid nature of our enterprise, I’m
thinking I’ll probably end up at Neo, though I am, of
course, willing to entertain other suggestions (as long as
those suggestions are Exit). Neo, for those of you who have
never been, is located at 2350 N. Clark St and is a goth
dive that does a great 80’s night. Additionally, it has 2
dollar PBR’s, which I will probably not need anymore of at
that point.
So, what say you? Will you join me in celebrating the fact
that you have been spared the unmitigated cruelty of fate
for at least one more year? Or do you think hanging out
with me for a night is worse than plague, incineration, and
natural disaster (hint, my dancing only resembles the
latter)? Those are the only two options, and so if you
don’t come, I reserve the right to stick you with plague
needles, incinerate you, and/or dance somewhere in your
vicinity. Why? Because I am an evil bastard, and its okay,
because its all Astrology’s fault.
Cheers,
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Remember freshman year?
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September 22, 2008, 12:08:am
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So all the kids are coming back to the university after a summer at home pretending they're cooler, more mature and more sophisticated than when they left for college (which at our university is definitely not the case).
But I do love watching the incoming freshmen. The anxiety of their quaint midwestern parents as they unpack the station wagon. The mixture of tears, joy and jealousy on the parents faces, the occassional flash of resentment, all visible during the rare occasion where large masses of people gather and yet are uniformly focused on themselves and the changes occuring in their own life. Even more interesting, however, is watching through the weekend as the parents take off, and the kids shake themselves out of their self-absorbtion, and start to become almost cripplingly aware that this moment upon which they had pinned so many teenage melodrama fueled expectations is finally occurring. It's sad to watch them switch from basking in the glow of their parents fumbling and affectionate goodbyes to the harrowing realization that they are now surrounded by people just like them, and they're all watching. Projection occurs, defenses are erected, and the earnest 17-year old kid that existed a couple hours ago is walled off behind a facade of intellectual pretention, naive cycnicism, and reflexive scorn. They've become defined by their desire not to be hurt, not to have their carefully cultivated expectations and hopes blighted by indifference and mockery. So they whither instead.
I wonder if there was a conflict between the administration and the school new paper. They ran a story about a 4th year, A, who died of a heroin overdose. Nice kid, into philosphy and music. Had shitty taste in friends though. This guy, N, was such a good buddy that, in addition to procuring the heroin, didn't call 911 even though he knew something was off. His reasoning? "I don't want to get in trouble, you take care of it". He called some friends instead and they had to deal with the corpse. See, if A had been less concerned about protecting his fragile ego, he probably wouldn't have been doing the drugs. But more importantly, he wouldn't have relied on a little pissant of a "friend" who could look at someone bleeding out their orifices and decide not to call an ambulance.
Did I say I like watching the freshmen? I shouldn't have. Its refreshing to see people so unabashadly excited, but its almost worse to see what's left after they become "independent" and "mature".
Anyway,and on another note:
Why aren't there any ugly frontwomen in industrial bands? I mean, the guy from the Cruxshadows can pull off looking like his mother hurled him from outerspace when he was kid, but any female voxes are inevitably gorgeous.
Its not fair. I don't like feeling like I'm being tricked into liking music because the girl singing it is adorable.
Exhibit A
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Politics rant
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September 08, 2008, 12:22:pm
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""She's not scared to answer questions," McCain campaign manager Rick Davis said on "Fox News Sunday." "But you know what? We run our campaign, not the news media. And we'll do things on our timetable."
"Why would we want to throw Sarah Palin into a cycle of piranhas called the news media that have nothing better to ask questions about than her personal life and her children?" Davis said. "So until at which point in time we feel like the news media is going to treat her with some level of respect and deference, I think it would be foolhardy to put her out into that kind of environment.""
-You're right, it would be foolhardy to put Sarah in a "cycle" of piranhas, especially since you did such a shitty job picking your VP candidate. It''s their job to be piranhas, and it should have been your job to pick someone who can handle them.
They don't have to give you respect or deference. You want the woman to be vice president, she'd better god damn well answer every frivolous, nonsensical question they've been asking the other three candidates.
You fucking hypocrites. The same people who couldn't hear enough about every scandal to emerge from the Democrats in the last 20 years suddenly pull the high and mighty act?
The most frustrating part is that you're right. Her family life shouldn't be an issue. I'm sure the VP salary can afford some nice boarding schools, a nanny, hell, probably even a wet nurse, since thanks to our idiotic media we now know she breast feeds...
But I digress. Its frustrating that you're right because you didn't take this stance because it's moral, logical, or even consistent. You, personally, Rick Davis, have muckraked scandal, vile rumour, and insignificant petty details with the best of them.
No, you chose this position because it allows you to be outraged, and combative. See, what I've come to see about politics in both parties is that my response is never based on what is right, but about making the other side being wrong. Its this bombastic, morally outraged swagger that we love so much. These politicos are like junkies chasing after the high of self-righteous sanctity, where they can momentarily occlude the fact that they haven't had a single idea that has helped this country in any way.
Politics has become a game to them, a fucking football rivalry, where nothing matters so much as beating the other team. This is why the founding fathers warned against the establishment of political parties.
But you can't just blame them, because you know, on the hill, and in legislatures around the country, they DO get things done. Everyday, pragmatic bills and budgets and workable solutions. Which mean all this rancororous venom spewing and firebreathing is for OUR benefit.
Which means ultimately its our responsibility to tell them to stop acting like children, stop wasting all this time and money with partisan brinskmanship, and get to some reasonable solutions. This will require that we stop being such scandal mongers, stop indulging our deep tribal desires to blood-feud, and stop demonizing people who have differing ideas about policy issues.
In short, we have to get off our high horses and walk around in the shit they've left on the ground.
Perhaps, a little more delicately, society is always about compromise, and its time we remembered that.
Rant over.
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YEAST!
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June 18, 2008, 09:29:pm
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YEAST, YEAST AND FUCKING YEAST!!!!!
These bastards might be great at making beer and wine but that will not stay my vengeful hand if I find a way to kill them without destroying my cultures. I might just bleach them for spite and take the whole experiment down with them.
FUCK!
Now I have to repeat 2 weeks of work because some jackass in the Flow Facility was eating Panera bread and guzzling unfiltered beer when he SHOULD HAVE BEEN DOING HIS JOB!
I'm going to go drink a dozen beers because they taste like the sweet, sweet agony of a million yeasts' deaths.
Mood: Apopleptic Rage
Music: Head on Desk. Looped.
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