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Subject:Things about college and people
Time:07:31 pm
I arrived at college and made friends on my floor. I like living in the Writers' Learning Community; I can have a really good conversation with everyone on the floor except the bitchy gay kid that has sex in the room next to me all the time. There is one kid from Kentucky named Jimmy that I drink Wild Turkey with on a regular basis, and there are two kids that are not writers that I drink with on weeknights.

I enjoy going to dance parties in bars because there is no cover, the drinks are very cheap, and drinking on weeknights makes me feel grown up. Also, dancing, girls, and Wu-Tang.

Classes went well. I am hoping for more A's than B's. This pleases me because I did so little work and rolled so many blunts during the semester. Everything turned out well; classes were stimulating and learnful even if some were huge dumb lectures. I smoked with 2 of my 3 T.A's and now regularly meet for coffee with my rhetoric teacher.

I learned a lot about how small the world is. Often, the feeling of synchronicity that accompanies very many of my experiences in Iowa City is too much; like the coincidences are so meaningful and unlikely that there must be a God and He must be laughing at me. You guys have no idea. I have some funny stories to tell.

Let's see...I managed to get away with drinking and smoking all but one time, when I walked into a dorm room that was getting busted for drinking and pulled out a bottle and went "Shots for everyone" and then noticed that there were two more people than when I had left...and that they were R.A.s. But then I ran away real fast after telling the R.A's that I didn't live there but the dumb bitches that were in the room I was planning on drinking in immediately told on me so they'd get in less trouble. And that's how I spent $212 on a bottle of Captain Morgan.

I called an officer of the law corrupt while being patted down, and saved three of my friends from going to jail for posession with intent to distribute by knowing when it is and is not legal to deny a cop's right to search. I also managed to hide a bag of pot and a pipe on my person while multiple cops were watching me well enough that I was patted down three times and they never found it. Fuck Stuckey.

Lessee...other than that, got drunk, got laid, got misanthropic again, had two girlfriends with each relationship ending in a horrible but humorous in retrospect way, wrote a little bit, was propositioned no fewer than six times by homosexual men in bars (none succeeded in seducing me)looked at a lot of sunsets, became firmly entrenched in my habit of smoking Kamel Red Lights, got my Eagle Scout after a week of substance abuse, pulled a 3-nighter without the assistance of anything but caffeine and a strong midwestern protestant work ethic, and got good at chess.

The semester ended in a finals week that seemed to last about 3 days, possibly because I stayed up all night 2 days of said week. I think I pretty much put my dick in all the tests, so that's straight.

List of bands I've been listening to and haven't really before college
Band of Horses
Wu-Tang and related side projects, especially the GZA
the Hold Steady
Brother Ali/really all of Rhymesayers. I really dig Eyedea and Abilities too, I'd never really gotten into them.
Ludacris (can now rap much of "Welcome to Atlanta" and "Girls Gone Wild" but only in the presence of only men and only after drinking but only before going out to stupid big keg parties)
Tilly and the Wall but not too much cuz I ain't no fag
Stars
Metric
Neutral Milk Hotel (the possible highlight of my year: me, tripping, stomping around Elias Simpson's living room with maybe 7 or 8 other people who are all wasted (it was 3 a.m. on the night of his birthday party) singing along to "Oh Comely" at the top of our lungs. so good)
Kanye West
Ween but not really because the vocalist is kind of a douchebag, to be honest.
definitely the Hold Steady; they put on the best show oh my God see them live before they get really big. In a related story, I drank a bottle of Maker's Mark with them DURING THEIR SET because I smoked them up before they played. Ah god talk about an ego boost
Jay Z
DJ Unk, specifically the song "Walk it Out"

New Interests:
Walking it out, walking it out, walking it out, walking it out
bookmaking, thanks to my roomie
graffiti, specifically with stencils
Pabst Blue Ribbon for sippin', Keystone for drinking 20 in a night
doing homework while smoking cigarettes
chess
old movies/being like an old movie actor
books- not reading them, that's not new, but as physical objects. This comes from working in a bookstore.
reading random books by random authors really fast
cooking
making hummus and making it gooooood
looking up old music videos on youtube
the mythology of the Wu Tang (did you know: all of the members have at one time or another been part of the militant anti-white muslim 5 Percent Nation? I'm pretty sure that's the one. Way to be in touch with your fan base, dudes.)
watching all the movies I've only seen part of

New Cell Phone Number 515 451 0518 give me a call as soon as you read that if your cell phone is nearby.

this semester: my brain cells
Next semester: the world
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Time:04:18 pm
Summer's gone fast. It's been consumed mostly by work, which is sad. As is usually the case, fantastic plans of spontaneous road trips and wacky Gonzo misadventures fall by the wayside in favor of the endless pursuit of wealth at $7.00 per hour and the squandering of said wealth on the abuse of drugs and alcohol.

This Mid-East thing is gnawing at my mind, and I'm becoming more and more interested in it the more I hear about it. I'm troubled, however, at the lack of concern for the civilians getting killed. All I hear from anybody I talk to is "We gots ta kill da terrorists" over and over, mindless support of Israel because Lebanon=terrorists. What I have not heard anyone point out is that Israel has killed (according to CNN.com) 165 civilians, compared with Hezbollah's 24. Oddly enough, Hezbollah is still being portrayed as the only evil party in this situation; this is simply a falsehood we tell ourselves to simplify things. To argue that they are the only evil party because they instigated the entire conflict is ignorant and wrong as well; it completely ignores Hezbollah's reasons for capturing the Israeli soldiers. This is not a black and white issue, and to portray it as such is not good for anyone. I don't care what religion, ethnicity, or political ideology you are, it is simply unhealthy to take a side and root for it, ignorant of the facts and background. Shades of gray...

The sweatshop is sort of fun. I typically take t-shirts out of a oven after the ink has been baked onto them, and it's usually well above 100 degrees in the press room, and it's for fairly low pay, but whatever. It's a funny story, and I meet lots of interesting people. There are some Mexicans, none of whom speak English fluently, which makes my relationships with them more creative. In lieu of actually saying full sentences, I'll have to use mime, sign language, what little spanish I know, and a few simple english words. Even then, communication is difficult, and humorous situations often result.

My boss is named Larry, and he's a big badass. He routinely refers to us as faggots, is a closet smoker and bodybuilder, and can lift roughly twice his own weight. He has freckles, glasses, and a cute little button nose. He is roughly 5'7 and appears to weigh 150 pounds at most, but could still throw me through a brick wall.

etc. etc.

Uhh KURE has treated me well. I very often go in late at night, by myself or with friends, and do the whole DJ thing for awhile. So next time you are at home, alone, late at night, turn on the radio and I might be DJing. Thursdays 4-6.

I'm in the mood for some board games; I haven't played nearly enough of them this summer. Also, picnics, dancing, tea parties, river rafting, and other gay shit needs to be done soon.

I'll be out of town for three weeks or so (canada, then boy scout canoe trip) starting on the 21st. Then I go to school on the 18th I think.

Orientation was fun, I'm gonna like Iowa City a lot, and I got into some sweet classes. I don't have class before 9:30 on any day of the week and I only have one class on Fridays.

Uhh fuck all ya'll, quit writing raps and go play volleyball.
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Current Location:The Police, "Evan's a Fag," Sonic Youth, "Cross the Breeze"
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Time:02:03 am
I got a radio show on Kure 88.5

Divine Intervention Free Radio
Thursdays 4-6
DJ Rev Ev
You are all welcome as guests, no matter who you are. It's in the basement of Friley. I will give you a random item that has been blessed by a certified Reverend of the Universal Life Church for stopping by.

I've been noticing little things and the way they affect my life a lot lately. Little coincidences, seeing people, things I happen to have in my pockets at just the right time, shit like that. I like them, because they give me a sense of some sort of underlying order, even if it is meaningless. I remember driving home from Christmas last year and visualizing a web connecting me to all the people I was in some way related to in the small towns and cars on the highway as they passed by, and it's sort of like that on a much larger, more complex scale.

I became a vegetarian after a series of bizarre encounters with animals that seemed determined to die in front of me and subsequent meditations on death.

Summer's treating me well; I'm sure it will treat all you high schoolers well too. I've been doing a lot of exploring and climbing trees and walks in the forest and in general a lot of stuff. Whenever I'm not working, it seems like I'm going on an adventure, and I really can't think of many better ways to spend my summer. It's a relief to constantly be interested in what I am doing, and the feeling of being intent on anything, even if it is finding cool new bridges or climbing trees.

Oh yeah graduation that was cool I guess. My graduation party was decent, other people's graduation parties were alright if a little weird, in that awkward way gatherings are when they include people thrown together by some circumstance that is beyond their control. Commencement was fine, I was happy to see people graduate and shit. A sense of closure is always good, especially when it is too a period as controlling to your life as high school is. Although I would've been fine just getting the fuck out of Ames, but I guess a meaningless ceremony was aight too.

We should hang out. It's always nice to chill with people you don't usually talk to, don't you think? It doesn't have to be meaningful, we could just go out for coffee and chat for awhile. It's just healthy to get different people's perspectives in your head, and I don't talk to most of you nearly enough.

P.S. mandatory comment on shit other that my head: what the fuck is with Iraq? The sound you hear is the Republican waterhead hegemony on world politics crumbling, and I love it. The time I am in college is going to be a watershed era for global politics; what an invigorating time to be alive and changing the world. I can't fucking waitttt.

PPS I have a cool welt on my upper thigh from paintball, you should see it sometime.
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Time:10:18 pm
Top 5 Songs That I've Been Listening to Compulsively That Are More Than 15 Years Old
1. Ashes to Ashes, David Bowie
2. Straight to Hell, Clash
3. Tangled Up in Blue, Bob Dylan
4. The Message, Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five
5. Atlantic City, Bruce Springsteen

I'm going to Iowa. I predict a shrug-worthy, but fun, next year. After that, if I don't like it, I could transfer or something, but I hear Iowa is sorta shitty the first year and improves afterwards once you don't have to take the gen eds. Thailand would've been better, and I think my parents are making a mistake by making me go to school instead of letting me do my own thing. Well, they aren't really making me do it, but I don't really want to have to work a full time job all through college and still be hardcore in debt afterwards.

My plans for the summer are to work, but not too much, and take lots of trip type things. I'll be here most of the time. What are you doing this summer? Any exciting plans? Anyone want to go to the Pitchfork festival? Nathan, can I reserve a spot in your car?

I might be going on a vision quest on the Navajo reservation with Rob Manatt and his Navajo friend. This is something to look forward to.

Anyone want to go backpacking for a week? We were thinking a fairly leisurely hike through the Tetons or Rockies.

I'm a DJ at KURE now, ask me when my time spot is next week and I'll be able to tell you. I need a DJ name, though. I will give a "Myachi" Hand Hacky-Sack to the person with the best suggestion. It has a dragon on it for extra oomph.

I have my last final tomorrow at 9:45 in the morning, and my score on it doesn't matter. After that, I'll have 1.5 hours of school every day. I think I'll just exercise for the other 22.5...THE HARDER THE BETTER BAYBEE

School's so done.
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Current Music:Bear vs. Shark, T.I.
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Time:03:05 pm
As I rode my bike to the P.E. makeup this morning, I noticed that the clouds looked like billowing smoke. It was sort of like when you go on Google and it's all decorated for a holiday, only this was on much more of a cosmic level. Happy Holidays, ya'll.

Model U.N.'s gonna be interesting. (Viva Cuba! Viva!) Let's see if I can manage to stay out of trouble, and keep Benny a free man as well. It's tempting to be dumb about drugs on this, but at the same time, I graduate in a month or whatever...it'd be dumb to be expelled for not being able to wait a few days to get my ya-yas out.

School is such a joke. After my ISU class is finished, in three weeks or so, I'm going to have one and one-half hours of school every day.

I've taken to reading for four hours a day, and exercising in the morning on some days and before I go to bed on others. These provide pleasant routines that are enhanced even more by the sweet weather and the natural fireworks of blooming flowers.

Anyone who wants to go to the Pitchfork Festival let me know; as I really want to go and am able to, but everyone else is lame and doesn't want to go.

DUDE 420
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Subject:My 5 Favorite Sections in All of Literature (subject to change)
Time:11:01 pm
1. The Mexican sequence at the end of On the Road. Amazing, amazing language. It makes you go into a trance. Some of Kerouac's stuff, and a lot of Beat stuff in general, is just typing (to paraphrase Truman Capote) but every once in a while, the writer's sheer power of psyche succeeds in hitting just the right combination of synapses with their stream of words, and when that happens it transcends most everything in writing.

2. The Climax of "Freak Power: Strange Rumblings in the Rockies 1968" by Hunter S. Thompson (part of which is on Uetz's bullitin board if you don't own The Great Shark Hunt)- The essay, which is about his mad run for Aspen county sheriff as part of the Freak Power campaign (he lost by 22 votes, which is funny because Erik and I, also under the banner of Freak Power, lost by 22 votes) eventually moves from just a recounting of the events and solid facts of his campaign into his general idealogical ruminations on why he thought it was proper to run. It culminates on the most solid and inspiring explanation on direct action I've ever read, and I believe it is his best writing. Admittedly, it is not as lighthearted as the gleeful fuckromp that is Fear and Loathing, and less interesting from a sociological perspective than Hell's Angels, but I think it's the best damn exhortation to get out and Do Something to Make This Shit Better ever written.

3. The last 3 pages of "A Perfect Day For Bananafish," by J.D. Salinger- I can't say anything about it without ruining it. It's probably the most thought provoking combination of letters ever put down on paper, and if read in the right setting and state of mind, will demand lengthy rumination. It's one of my life's goals to write something that fucking heavy and create characters that complex and human.

4. The end of "For Whom the Bell Tolls" by Papa- People say that they don't dig Hemingway, but his sheer skill at finally bringing the epic story arc to a close here, while also encapsulating his entire philosophy, in the last chapter of his best book, demands respect. It's like that douchebag with the mustasche says every year to every class before that Bertrand Russell assignment- When you don't fancy works of art that are considered great, at least respect the talent that went into their creation and the ideas at their core. So, I don't really care whether you are too hung up on Hemingway's personality to realize the sheer genius of his intellect and writing. No matter how much of a squealing, shallow Femi-Nazi you are, this ending will bring you to your knees.

5. One of my favorite things about reading is how much the reader is inevitably affected by the emotions protagonist, and my favorite example of this is in "Johnny Got His Gun" By Dalton Trumbo. It's sort of a crappy book, mostly spent making this poor guy, who gets his limbs and face blown off in World War 1, suffer. The entire 250 page book, save the last few chapters, is spent just wallowing in this dude's misery, the fact that he is compltely trapped in his own mind, etc. etc. While I was reading it, I was getting fairly sick of it, and sick to my stomach just thinking about it. But what I failed to realize was that it was all just a buildup to the last few chapters, where he stops being sad, and gets fucking pissed. It's when he starts communicating with the outside world through twitching his stubs or falling off the bed rythmically or whatever, and then he realizes that no one really cares about him, that the book really gets going. The last two pages are just amazing- it's two pages of absolute Red Socialist fury and lightning transmuted into ink. The most potent anti-war document I've ever read.

Honorable Mentions: Tom Joad's immortal thingy in The Grapes of Wrath, the end of Buddy Glass's opening monologue about the artist's mind in Seymour: An Introduction by J.D. Salinger, Hemingway's descriptions of nights on the town, especially in The Sun Also Rises, the end of book 5 in the Chronicles of Narnia (made me cry), the end of Martin the Warrior by Brian Jacques, the trick ending of that one Goosebumps book where he finds out his grandparents are ghosts who are going to eat him, (still scares me whenever I read it) the beginning of "The Stand" by Stephen King (I dig apocolyptic shit) and, uh, god. I've written too much.



(I found this old list, written last winter I think, while I was looking through old Word Documents. It still holds up pretty well, I wouldn't change anything.)

What are your favorite moments in literature? Everyone who reads this should post one, three, or five depending on how nerdy you are.
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Current Music:Talking Heads
Current Location:I reside in the state of Mind
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Subject:HOLY SHIT THIS IS A LONG ENTRY
Time:09:50 pm
Man, my life has become so much more interesting lately, but that also means a lot of stress and such. I've adjusted to the general change in pace in my life fairly well, but some interesting clusterfucks have developed, only very few of which it would seem polite or relevant to discuss here.

The one I am most concerned with, and also one of the most clusterfucky of these various problems, is the question of just what the hell I'll be doing come Autumn semester. I'm split between the intense, small town small class small college education of Cornell College and the more relaxed, party town, lecture hall (at least the first two years) education Iowa would provide, at a lower cost. Whatever, I don't care, both would suit me fairly well in their own ways. I am more concerned with the fact that I was recently accepted into a program (www.thailandexperience.com) that would allow me to teach conversational English to Thai kids on a Thai beach resort island for the fall semester. (click on "Teach Samui" on the website to learn more about what I would be doing) This would not be a problem, however, if my dad were a little more okay with it. The program is sufficiently inexpensive that I am currently able to pay for it, as well as about a month of travel throughout Thailand before I begin my training course. Also, it would be pertinant to my future because I would get a TEFL (Teach English as a Foreign Language) certificate, which would not only be a ticket into the Peace Corps, but also various other (paid) foreign country teaching jobs after college.

Buuuuutttt...my dad is dead-set on having me go to college the fall after my senior year. That's seriously the only impediment to this whole shebang. I've cleared it with both Iowa and Cornell, and I'd be able to enroll for the 2nd semester/5th block at either colleges. It's just that Papa won't help pay for college if I do this, which is sort of bad.

Clusterfuck #2: Girls. Seriously, girls, what the hell is up with this "when it rains, it pours" shit? Ignore me for 6 years, and suddenly start talking to me in the last 1/4 of my senior year? It cramps my style sometimes, ya know? But in a really cool way. I just have the sense that I'm building a weird, incestuous house of cards that will all fall down in one big orgy of screaming that will end in me stealing a car and getting out of Ames shortly before my house is burned down by a screaming mob. But I get that feeling fairly often nowadays, so whatever.

Spring has sprung, though. You (and I do mean you) have no fucking idea how much the weather has improved my general mindset. I've basically quit cigarettes because I no longer want to do anything but just BREATHE and frolic like a little girl in a patch of daisies. It's weird, though. Even though I have a lot of stuff to do nowadays, I still manage to spend most of my time doing stuff I enjoy. I even dig my classes now that the weather's nice. God bless spring...I was starting to worry about the way things were heading.

The whole suspension thing worked out reasonably well. My last school-mandated therapy session was today, and it ended with the therapist concluding that I was right, and I had no reason to be there, and Mr. McGrory was wrong. I intend to walk into McGrory's office and do a little gloating dance. Gah...words cannot describe the absolute hatred I reserve for the administration. Ask me about it sometime, it would just be silly to swear as much as would be neccessary to describe it.

Boy scout campout was tight. The caving campout has always been my favorite, because the day starts out with all these really scared little scouts who won't go in the caves because they're scary, and it never fails to end with a group of mud-covered little kids who basically have to be dragged away from the caves because they love them so much. Their transformation, from completely petrified and alone, away from their parents, to loving their independence and marveling at the wonders of mother nature, encapsulates everything I love about Boy Scouts, and the case in general for Boy Scouts. Fuck the uniforms, fuck the controlling adults, fuck the ceremonies. When an organization, no matter how homophobic and shitty, makes it possible for kids who have never camped before to develop a passion which will affect them for the rest of their lives, it gets Evan's stamp of approval. Is that bullshit? Please give me feedback on this.

Uh yeah, so we should go out for coffee sometime. You should give me a call, we'll hang out.
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Current Music:Grandaddy
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Subject:For Your Consideration:
Time:10:31 pm
5 Albums You May Have Overlooked:

5. Manic Street Preachers; Know Your Enemy- Catchy, occasionally crappy guitar driven polit-pop. The guitarist carved "4 REAL" into his arm to prove that he was for real to a NME reporter. Man, I hate NME. Key songs: "Found that Soul," "Ocean Spray," "Intravenous Agnostic"

4. Chin Up Chin Up; We Should Have Never Lived Like We Were Skyscrapers- When a friend burned this for me, I was convinced I had found the next Modest Mouse. Chin Up Chin Up are sort of post-rock in that it's completely unique music and vocals and has some synths, but the melodies are so catchy you'll die, and the emotion in the songs feels completely genuine. Key songs: "Get Me Off this Fucking Island," "Collide the Tide," "Virginia Don't Drown"

3. Basement Jaxx; Rooty- This is the about as gay as music can get before it actually starts turning the listeners homosexual, but I love it. Synth-driven cheesy dance music. "Romeo" and "Get Me Off" are both basically sex in dance music form.

2. Bear vs. Shark; Right Now You're In the Best of Hands- It's like At the Drive-In, but less spastic and without the techno, and with better use of loud-soft dynamics. It's great music to work out to, because you can't help but get really FUCKIN pumped up when you hear songs with titles like "Bloodgiver." I also dig it a lot because of its obvious '80s metal influences, and because of the "whoo" at the end of the song "This Employee is Not Afraid."

1. Mountain Goats; All Hail West Texas/The Coroners Gambit- I fucking hated John Darnielle and his whiny-assed overliterary voice when I first heard his music, but I figured there must be a reason why the people that introduced me to it were so into it so I kept listening, and I've very glad I did. If I hadn't, I would've never discovered beautiful songs like "Island Garden Song" and "Color in Your Cheeks" and "The Best Ever Death Metal Band Out of Denton." All too often, I find myself ignoring the lyrics to music because I just assume they won't help evoke the emotion they are trying to excite in the listener, but the exact opposite is true of Mountain Goats lyrics. Darnielle is an artist and a poet. If Colin Meloy desperately wants to be a combination of Rudyard Kipling, Samuel Coleridge and Charles Dickens, John Darnielle IS Denis Johnson.
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Current Music:Manic Street Preachers, Mountain Goats
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Time:01:03 am
It's been an interesting week. It included a 40-hour period where I was awake, only fully coherent for the first part of it. The sleepless marathon was spurred by the realization that I had a test for which I was not prepared the next morning. This realization is not as uncommon as I'd like, but was made much worse by the fact that it was 1:00 a.m. and I was dazed from having my mind blown in a kaleidoscopically orgasmic marathon performance by Wilco, whose genius I am now fully convinced of. I figured my performance on this test was more important than a few hours of sleep, so I took two no-doz and began brewing what would be the first of six cups of tea that night. I sat down and studied for what seemed like twenty minutes, but was actually 2 hours. Then, having adequately crammed for the test, I tried to go to sleep, but was unsuccessful and read until it was light. After the test, the rest is a blurry, nondescript night of work and girls spilling water on themselves that culminated in me seeing Crash and getting home at 12:30 the following night. I stayed up until two reading, and passed out after forty sleepless hours.
I sort of dug the feeling of being hallucinogenically tired- it's a giddy, mind-drunk feeling, and I now understand why many of the great geniuses have had fucked up sleep schedules- one is imbued with a perpetual sense of wonder and creativity. Now, along with that came severe mood swings, slight hallucinations and the desire to curl up in the nearest corner and pass out, but I think it was worth it.
Tonight I hung out with Matt Cross. He's an interesting character to talk to, if only because of his belligerant brand of stupidity. I'm starting to get bored with that, though. I hope his stint in the Coast Guard, however successful, will work out for him.
Speaking of being bored with stuff, I am quite finished with high school, however engaged in school work I try to be. But that sense, the feeling of being finished with this part of my life, is doubly awkward: it makes me feel more disconnected from my friends, as well as makes me consider the nervously optimistic abyss that is my future
The midnight showing of Dazed and Confused last night was lame. Drunk assholes ruined the movie by yelling and picking fights and shit. I hung out with some wiggers in the bathroom, though- they was tight.
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Current Music:Van Morrison
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Subject:On the Cuban National Baseball Team and Their Recent Loss
Time:11:44 pm
Cuba lost to Japan in the final of the World Baseball Classic yesterday, 10-6. I was pretty bummed out, partially because I'm a fan of Cuba in general, despite the rampant human rights violations and senile, corrupt leadership. It's in my nature to root for the underdog, especially when the underdog was the only socialist nation in the Western Hemisphere for multiple decades, and it still manages to have a stronger economy than a good portion of the capitalist nations in South America, despite crippling trade embargoes imposed on it. So I guess it's natural for me to root for Cuba, especially when their team is composed entirely of current and former farmboys who got to where they are by virtue of incredible hard work and athleticism that was often no less than stunning- the Cuban pitching staff had the best pitchers in the tournament, hands down.
Most of the Cuban national team came from small village baseball teams, and they beat all sorts of teams with much more going for them than Cuba did. It all came down to one game, against the Japanese team. It was like Rocky vs. Ivan Drago- the scruffy underdog against the clinically engineered superhumans. I had high hopes.
The game itself was fairly worthless- Japan had Cuba beat. The sheer precision and speed of the Japanese team was too much, and it was clear from the start that Cuba was to lose. There was a brief resurgence of hope when Cuba rallied and actually pulled ahead, but that hope quickly faded, and Cuba lost.
In Legends, there was a general consensus that the good guys had won and all was well. While the Japanese team celebrated on the field, the viewer could see the Cuban team filing out of their dugout, barely 5 minutes after the game had ended. But I was really bummed out, and this wasn't just childish "Awww the Commies didn't win the symbolic ball game" bummed out, but rather something different, and I couldn't quite put my finger on it until I thought of the camera on the Plaza Del Revolucion or whatever it is called.
You see, every inning or so ESPN would cut to a camera in Havana, showing a cheering crowd, waving Cuban flags and pumping their fists in the air, packed together to watch the game on what looked like an old drive-in movie screen that was hanging from a crane. That, my friends, is why I was rooting for the fucking Cuban team. The Japanese players were playing it to be the champions, to win it, to get more exposure, whatever. You could tell by the way they carried themselves they didn't care that much. But, all through the tournament, the Cuban players were throwing themselves at the games they played. The viewer got the sense that they truly cared, that they were truly playing for something, but it was not clear to me what until I saw the camera in Havana.
The camera did not show the massed crowd's disappointment after the game, and it did not show them going back to their hovels, but I sensed them all the same. I wanted to clap them all on the back and remind them of those immortal words- Hasta La Victoria Siempre. It is not in the baseball fan's nature to give up after heartbreak, and I am sure Cuba will return, and I will root for them again. Viva Cuba!
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