Don't Get Used to Me Darlin

I think i just got settled in, and its time to pack up again.

4 months in Dallas has proven to be an essential, incredible postmark in my life. I lived almost completely without care and was almost entirely autonomous. I posted last fall about how I wasn't sure what to do with all my freedom, and I think I finally figured it out this spring.

I had an incredible time in Dallas, met many friends and connected with many old ones. I will remember the materialistic city in the south fondly.

A few one sentence highlights.

- Going to a club with a thirty minute wait and a ten dollar cover, ditching the line, hopping a fence and sneaking in through the kitchen with Will

- Getting fired for the first time in my life for no discernable reason. I think my manager was annoyed that I confronted my coworkers when they would yell at me in front of customers and curse me out over the radio. But he wouldn't say that.

- Brainstorming with Tim on a new business venture. Its disappointing how much possibility is in the venture and how we can't pursue it right now

- Getting into a Dallas Cowboys fundraiser and seeing Wade Philips dance and taking pictures with the Cowboy cheerleaders.

- Going surfing on a lake, listening to "I'm On A Boat" while on the boat

- Playing intramural basketball and getting smoked every game

- Playing water polo with my community group after consuming a huge meal and numerous beers seconds before hand.

- Halo 3. Lots of it.

- Wondering how I was going to pay for bills so many times, and every time something would work out

- Singing Gangsta's Paradise at Karaoke with Tim and getting the whole bar completely into it

- Top Golf

- Ski Trip to Colorado

Etc. Etc.

However. Its sad to leave Dallas and puts me in a strange mood. I will write more of this later...

To the party of five who gave me three dollars on a 78 dollar tip,

To the two cows who ran me for an hour and frowned at me and asked me for another fork for their second round of food and then stiffed me,

To the group of gangstas ordering a ton of liquor and acting too hood to be friendly to me and the stiffing me,

To the women who i seat in a high table because we are full and i don't have any low tables currently and who responds to me saying, "this is all we have available right now, is this ok?" with a cool "its ok, but I'm not happy about it".

You make me very aware of the horrible plight of humans and make me regret my decision to be friendly to you in hopes of a positive human interaction and a possible good tip.


But,

To the dude in the pony tail and his hippie girlfriend who brightly smile at me and say thanks every time I come to to the table and then leave me a 50% tip

To the two old ladies from Singapore who, quite hilariously, think I look like John Mayer and tell me about their tall daughter enthusiastically.

To the women eating with her son on mothers day giving me the most soul warming smile every time I come by her table

To the dude giving me an unexpected bear hug because his food was "life-changing"

To the awkward table of girls leaving my their number

To the yuppie couple asking me why I am so nice and proceeding to bless me on my future endeavors

To the couple who tipped me 25% even after receiving pretty crappy service because they understood that I was being pushed to my limits after two servers didn't show up for the monday lunch shift and i was taking two sections

You make me absolutely love people and love my job

Larry Bird Syndrome, or The All "I Don't look like an NBA Player Team".

Think of a Professional basketball player, and an image immediately comes to mind. 6 foot something, shaved head, muscular, huge smile, and monstrous flashy shoes. This stereotype is warranted, with many of the greatest, most famous basketball players (*cough* MJ *cough*) rocking this fashion. However, every once in a while, a basketball player will trot onto the court, and everyone in the building will immediately be confused. "Hey, how did that guy get on the court, did he win some contest?" "Hey, was that the coach who just knocked down that three?"

There is probably no better example of this than the mighty Larry Bird.

One of the all time greatest players that basketball has ever seen, Larry looked completely out of place on the court. If you saw Larry on the street, you may have several guesses as to who he was. Guy on company softball team who is really good at pitching? Yes. Best man at your cousin's wedding? Yes. Xerox repairman? Absolutely.

Basketball legend? Hell no.

In Honor of Larry's awkward basketball looks, I've compile the present day "I look nothing like an NBA player yet still make millions shooting hoop each year" team. Behold.

1. Brad Miller
Current Job: Forward for the Chicago Bulls

Probably Real Job Based on Appearance: Bassist for Nu-Metal Band

I don't know if it's the late nineties goatee, the extreme paleness, the tribal tattoos, or the horribly basic name, but every time I see Brad Miller, I imagine him stomping around a stage with a low slung downtuned bass in black parachute pants and a really rebellious t-shirt. His name could even still be Brad, maybe with some fake last name, like Delson or something...wait...

Linkin Park Bassist Brad Miller...er...Delson

2. Andrei Kirilenko

Current Job: Forward for the Utah Jazz

Probably Real Job Based on Appearance: Brutal Henchman sidekick to James Bond Villain

His nickname is AK-47, and his razor sharp jaw and facial structure belies a maniacal Soviet villain hellbent on destroying James Bond and America through any way possible. He, of course, isn't the brilliant mastermind (that is probably the Cleveland Cavaliers Zydrunas Ilgauskas, or Z, as he is known by M18). Rather, he is the almost indestructable henchman who chases James through a Kenyan fruit market and runs through a hotel door in the Caymans, interrupting James doing what James does.

Kirilenko foils Bond again with his laser beam deflector

3. Wally Sczerbiak
Current Job: Forward for the Cleveland Cavaliers

Probably Real Job Based on Appearance

Pharmaceutical Salesman/guy at bar with tucked in dress shirt and jeans

Wally's all-America jaw, perfect teeth, and tussled hair simply make him too good looking for the NBA. He must have missed the memo that to be white in the NBA, you must be pale, have flaccid muscles, and have a greasy complexion. He's much more fit to be the airheaded ken doll in a marketing firm, sales team, or insurance company. He's just chillin' with some bros from Accounting at the pub in his tucked in $135 button down with some Diesel jeans and pointed loafers.

Another round of Skyy shots!

4. Chris Anderson

Current Job: Forward for the Denver Nuggets

Probably Real Job Based on Appearance: One of the guys in Bam Margera's Crew

Probably the most obvious addition to this list, Chris "Birdman" Anderson defies everyones expectations of what a basketball player looks like. I would definitely see this guy at a scummy club seeing a crust punk band, or at a carnival drinking with his friends, but never as an athlete. He is the guy in Bam's crew who never talks much, but is always willing to do the most socially offensive pranks. Bam always refers to him as Birdman, and there is a long running joke about Birdman being in love with Bam's mom.

"So, Birdman is gonna rush the court in the NBA game, and see how long he can hump players before he gets hauled off by security. "

5. J.J. Barea

Current Job: Guard for the Dallas Mavericks

Probably Real Job Based on Appearance: Guy in the office who takes fantasy football and the tourney pool waaay too seriously.

J.J. Barea is about 5'10''. He has a latino name. Those two facts are oxymoronic with the term NBA player. Instead of cutting and slashing and somehow scoring double digits consistently, I see Barea as the guy in the office who is talking about the NCAA tournament in January and watching the NFL combine during work hours. You always wonder why he is so obsessed with pro sports, since he doesn't seem athletic at all. One day, you find out that he was continually cut from the basketball team in high school. He hopes that his dominance in predicting the NCAA champion and the NFL rushing leader makes up for his failure in prep sports.

J.J. Barea, left, seen here with normal sized basketball player.

6. Chris Kaman

Current Job: Center for the L.A. Clippers

Probably Real Job Based on Appearance: Controversial Anthropologist

Chris Kaman is disgusting. He defies all reason and social norm in personal grooming and appearance. This makes me believe he is an anthropologist, constantly studying humanity and society while living outside of it. He's not just any anthropologist though, he is one of the most controversial figures in the field, with findings that include "Human's live best without electricity", and "How the fruit fly is more advanced than the spider monkey". He does most of his "studies" by living with animals in the wild and covering himself with their feces for months at a time.

Kaman's wild eyes show his discomfort in wearing normal human clothing.

7. Robert Swift

Current Job: Center for the Oklahoma City Thunder

Probably Real Job Based on Appearance: The unpopular stoner

Robert Swift is obviously a good enough basketball player and hard worker to get into the NBA, but nothing in his appearance says so. Instead, he looks like the obnoxious, kinda smelly stoner that makes everyone groan with every word uttered. He shows up to parties and tries starting "legalize it" conversations with everyone in the room, even if it means he has to interrupt their dancing or drinking games. Despite his arsenal of petitions and facts saying that drinking is more harmful than smoking, he is never taken seriously due to his unbelievably unintelligent voice and hilarious mop of red hair.

Alright Coach, I really appreciate it. Remember, the protest will be in the High Pies Pizza parking lot. Bring your own!

8. Jaokim Noah

Current Job: Center for the Chicago Bulls

Probably Real Job Based on Appearance: The mixed offspring of human and Predator

+

=

9. Scott Pollard

Current Job: Perpetual Free Agent

Probably Real Job Based on Appearance:Youth Pastor

Pollard is known as a crazy guy by the middle schoolers and high schoolers in his church , but his passionate messages against alcohol and rated R movies and vast knowledge of Christian alternatives to popular bands makes him a hit with the senior pastor staff at his church. He will shave his head or die his hair crazy in order to connect with the kids.

"Alright guys, how do you like the new style? Well, I told you I'd go through with it if we got 50 new camp registrations, and guess what, you guys are awesome and got 63!"

I always knew Glenn Beck was a douche...I could never put a finger on why.

Thank you Stephen Colbert...

The Colbert Report	Mon - Thurs 11:30pm / 10:30c
The 10/31 Project
comedycentral.com
Colbert Report Full Episodes Political Humor NASA Name Contest

Breckenridge Colorado, Peak 8
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What is that you say? You need a dreamily beautiful song to listen to? I'll see what I can do.


SeeqPod - Playable Search

Man, is there anything more pretentious and downright lame than making a distinction between hip hop and rap?

There seems to be some mystical element in saying, "I like hip hop, but I don't like rap".

I was talking to a coworker who was obviously very concerned that he was exhibiting how quality his music taste was. He explained to me that he used to love rap. I was like, yeah I love rap too, what do you like?

"well, I like hip hop"

"What do you mean?"

Like every other quasi intellectual pretending to "get" hip hop and shaking their head at "commercial" rap, he couldn't answer.

Instead, he told me that he doesnt like the new stuff, except for lil wayne.

Huh. I shook my head and looked ahead.

"Yeah, I love really crappy rap" I replied unabashedly.

Listen, I understand that rap, like every other musical genre, has two sides. There is a lot of histroy, a lot of activism, and a lot said in the greatest of rap. But, dude, just chill out for one second. I know Immortal Tech is real and true, but don't you get the least bit excited by how incredibly catchy T.I. is? I know Dead Prez is values based and has meaning to their music, but are you honestly saying you can't stand the witty lyrics of Ludacris newest jam?

So..point being? I just want to proclaim that its not a crime to like mindless music sometimes. Humans need it. They need to relax, to have fun. Yes, they need to have meaning in their music, and I'm the first to advocate truth in music, but come on...just relax for one moment and enjoy some music, even if its rap and not hip hop.

Fair warning, this is going to be a more serious minded blog.

With the presidency of Obama pushing forward legislation to attempt to resuscitate this dying country, punditry and political proof texting seems to run rampant. A quick glimpse of headlines, a snatch of Fox News, or a minutes listen to am radio reveals a defensive democratic party and a franticly attacking republican party. After spending hours delivering auto parts, I have been able to develop some ideas politically. Some of which follow.

• I have a hard time pointing to which political party I allign with, although I would generally say I am an Obama supporter and probably a democrat at this point. However, I still have large concerns with our future and the amount of spending being done. This said, I think that at this point something needs to be done. Will the spending work? Who knows. Its based on Keynesian economic theory, which has never been executed on a large scale. That said, it is a valid economic theory that takes into account a more complex, realistic economic environment than conservative pundits want to admit.

• Purely free market economics is largely impossible with any sort of government, barring pure Libertarianism. And so, Adam Smith's invisible hand has been crushing more than building with our recent economy. I realize conservatives always find a way to blame economic problems on democrats, but honestly, the supply side economics has run its course in this country and we have seen disaster. Should we continue to scream that it works and face even worse disaster? Or should we maybe try something new, even if it is unproven and could possibly fail? Give me number two every time.

• I am becoming more and more convinced that America is not a democracy. Is it then socialism? No. It is Corporatism. Large companies run this country. People who believe they have a true voice are somewhat deluded. Small business is a small matter compared to the wishes of the Fortune 500. The amount of pull in lobbying for legislation large companies have and the recent display of a rush of relief funds to large companies are key proofs of this. If the free market was so important, GM would be gone. Efficient, forward thinking companies like Tesla motors would have easily eclipsed the dinosaurs by now and we would be much better for it. Sadly, innovation is slapped in the face with the constant propping of large MNCs.
  

• Insurance is a hot blooded issue. Nothing, it seems, is more evil to a conservative mind than government run health care, even though America's existing health care is piss poor and every other modernized country has national health care. The thing that really cracks me up is people who frantically say that government health care is going to mandate what kind of care people can receive. How is private health care any different? Talk to a doctor and ask them how much pressure they receive from insurance companies to perform cheaper operations or prescribe cheaper drugs. Talk to a smoker and ask them how much they love that private insurance companies aren't infringing on their personal rights. We have all the individual liberties the constitutionalists are yelling about. You just have to be rich enough to afford them via insurance premiums. Capitalism is beautiful huh?

• The love affair with Capitalism makes me sick. People standing on a soap box and proclaiming the Christian values and inherent good of a governing system even named after a synonym for money need to take a serious, critical look at themselves.

• Conservatives are upset about having to be taxed more for nationalized health care. They don't want to have to pay for other people. Ok, well, what if I don't have a car? I'm still paying for your damn interstates and 6 lines highways and onramps with ornate concrete etchings that aspire for some sort of identity in a concrete jungle. But far be it for me to want to get my asthma* checked for less than a few days wages. That would be stealing.
  

*Yes, I have asthma. Please make joke below.

The Perfect Concert

Living with Will Jamison requires a constant sharpening of wit. In addition to the hyperbolic situations, the impromptu character sketches, and freestyle songwriting that all occur daily, I always am prepared for Will's newest situational survey. "What car would you buy if you had $30,000?", "would you rather be Reggie Miller or the singer for Simple Plan?", are a few examples of these trying games.

One such question was "what five songs would you have played at a party if you could have any artist play any song?" After rattling off my initial playlist within five minutes, I started thinking about the question more and more, and I have decided upon the following eight songs for my ultimate concert.

1. Welcome to the Jungle - Guns N' Roses

The crowd is gathering into the concert hall. They are all wearing their most glamorous, most edgy fashions, holding imported beers and mixed drinks made with Belvedere and Bombay Sapphire. They have all had a few drinks and are finding the most interesting topics to discuss with the incredible people around them. They are loving the party, even without the music, but are starting to feel excitement about the concert, which to this point, has been described in no more detail than "the concert that monuments will be made to". As they mingle on the concert floor, the lights go dim and cheers go up. A laser light show starts and flashing lights accompany Don LaFontaine announcing, "Ladies and Gentleman, welcome, to the Jungle" as the iconic first guitar riff begins. The song is a natural opener, and everyone is in disbelief that Guns N' Roses has this much energy. Everyone sings along in their poorest Axl imitation, and after Slash absolutely rips the nastiest solo of his career to finish the song, the crowd is at unreached zeniths of energy. The lights go down, and....

2. Memphis Will Be Laid to Waste - Norma Jean with Josh Scogin and Aaron Weiss
Josh Scogin's inhuman roar reverberates over a punishing guitar onslaught. As the song settles into its frightening groove, everyone is feeling a bit unsure. Not unsure about the song, but about how pumped they are getting by the song. Soon, girls in the swankest of Chanel dresses are headbanging as men who love Coldplay are shoving each other gleefully. Not everyone has heard this type of music, but they find themselves strangely in awe of it. Those who love this music are in bliss at the reunion of Scogin and Norma Jean. When Aaron Weiss appears to spit out his visionary spoken word ending, the crowd believes they are witnessing the rebirth of rock and roll. The lights go down, every one is mentally and physically exhausted. The intensity was great, but they need to let loose a bit. Suddenly, a familiar plucked string loop sounds...

3. Still D.R.E. - Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg (with verse from Eminem)
And one of the greatest rap songs ever begins. Snoop and Dre are flawless in their delivery, and they throw out a few rhymes referencing the sweet party we are at. Then, after the third hook, Eminem saunters out on the stage and kills a improv verse. Everyone is bouncing and dancing, and happiness is at an all time high. The beat fades out and the crowd is all smiles. The lights are out and the room is suddenly filled with pounding, emotive piano chords. Everyone immediately prepares to sing along to...

4. Don't Stop Believing - Journey
"Just a small town girl!" The unison singing is so loud that some believe it can be heard in space. Steve Perry hasn't aged at all, and the song feels like it was specifically written for that night to each specific person in the audience. The noodling guitar is accompanied by brilliant pyrotechnics and the crowd feels as if they can accomplish anything. The song ends, and everyone is exhausted, satisfied, and full of love. The lights dim, and as everyone takes deep, calming breaths, a few squawks from a guitar fill the hall...

5. Stir it Up - Bob Marley
A flawlessly tuned bass and drums join the comfortable rhythm of the guitar, and Bob sings with the passion of his first live concert in front of a beaming back up vocal section. The crowd is lulled into an oblivious, near zen-like state. In the fading out of the song, they feel as if they are directly connected to their heart for the first time in years, maybe ever. Luckily, a man strolls on stage and sits on a stool with a guitar, the lights come up and he starts strumming...

6. Blowin in the wind - Bob Dylan
The song begins, and the enigmatic lyrics suddenly make perfect sense. Everyone knows exactly what Bob is saying, and sing along flawlessly even if they have never heard the song before. Despite its simplicity, the song is as captivating as the dynamic performances before. As the song ends, the crowd craves a reprieve in order to reflect on the concert thus far...

7. Glosoli - Sigur Ros
The plodding bass line starts with ethereal sounds dancing all around it. Ambient lighting seems to be constantly shifting with no noticeable moments of change. Jonsi's voice is obviously coming from the speakers, but some swear that they hear it coming from the floors and ceilings and walls and other concert goers. The sound escalates to a size so big that entires glaciers are appearing in the room, at least in the most creative minds. As the song heads towards its crescendo, an anticipation mounts that rivals the greatest fourth quarters and presidential elections of the century. Suddenly yet naturally, the song erupts and room is showered with unbelievable bright lights flashing from every corner. The music seems to erupt straight out of each persons chest and every first kiss, every crushing failure, every moment of creativity, every glimpse of new life and death is revisited in unprecedented harmony. Suddenly the song ends and a ten minute segue of ambiance and twinkling sounds plays, seamlessly turning into a poppy dance beat ...

8. Beat It - Michael Jackson ft. Eddie Van Halen
The synthesized woodwinds suddenly erupt, and everyone realizes that the emotional experience they have just faced has given them an inexplicable crave to dance. When the notorious bass line kicks in, everyone is suddenly exhibiting the most incomprehensible of dance moves. 1988 Michael Jackson is absolutely electric, hitting notes like a screaming banshee, executing dance moves like a hunted gazelle. The crowd is somehow simultaneously cheering, high fiving, dancing, playing air guitar, singing along, and performing flawless crotch grabs. Several people somehow make their way on stage, including your high school chemistry teacher, that girl in college that you were best friends with and always had a secret crush on, your 6 year old nephew, and your entire 5th grade traveling basketball team. Eddie Van Halen realizes its time to solo and plays the most incredible guitar performance of his life. You notice that he has somehow made 2 outfit changes and performed 4 knee slides and 17 jump kicks all during his 36 second solo. The beat continues infinitely until everyone in the crowd has made a solo dance exit.



Boom. Thats my concert. Want to come? Whats your concert like?

The Soul of an Automobile

"It happens too fast to make sense of it"
- Jimmy Eat World

Somewhere in between Bella Vista and Bentonville, I couldn't help but wonder.

Do cars feel the way we do?

Do my tires know these roads?

Does the engine feel a swell when it pushes the body through familiar routes?

Do the headlights lose clarity when they see static landmarks in dynamic times?

Does the sheet metal sigh in relief when the Chicago winter is replaced by the Arkansas sun?

Does the seat next to me feel a noticeable absence on this familiar drive?

Chicago


Kansas


Arkansas

Goodbye Kiss to That Toddlin' Town


The Chicago skyline found its third dimension again tonight. After months in the haze, the clouds, the snow, the rain, and the cold, it resurrected itself with the help of an anomalic clear February sky.

The apartment I walked out of could have been anyones, and in fact was. The story was as familiar as any in this Chicago winter. An apartment full of young, interesting people who are full of jokes, full of camaraderies, and whom I am a stranger to. The apartment in uptown was a cornucopia of stimuli for a 22 year old mind. Two flat screens with an incredible Super Bowl, a fridge full of beer ranging from expensive IPAs to Miller 64s, a counter of every brand of chips and quickly cooling store bought pizza, a row of 4 couches lined up like a pew for the church service of American football.

For a few hours I sat in the revelry and imagined myself to be truly content. These were my friends, this was my life, this was my city, I mused to myself, tempted to fall asleep to the soothing vibrations of the passing El train.

But it is not, and as I walked out into the crisp Chicago skyline, I was exposed to every emotion a clear night could elicit where blinking windows and stars seem to fuse together.

I am leaving the city I love. I am leaving the hopes of a past man who had plans setlled. I have nothing left in this city but a caged sense of hope and a heart of love that is stopped with the most stubborn of corks.

Packing up possessions has a way of tampering with your stability, and as I pack my possessions and develop strategies on how to jigsaw them all into my weary Ford Taurus, I am assaulted with the familiarity of yet another move in my life. "I should have been stable by now, my bed should have been drilled to the floor", my mind starts, only to turn around and run from the dangerous path of reminiscence and dashed futures.

Packing up possessions has a way of focusing a person though as well. I have every piece of evidence of my former life intact, and as I carefully fold these objects and place them into a dilapidated cereal box, I might be folding them into a deep storage room of my heart, where I will leave them until I find use for them again, or they disintegrate on their own, or I decide to take them out in order to put something else in.

With every item in the box, I sense more freedom. Not the freedom of William Wallace, or, for that matter, Toby Keith. A more staggering freedom. A freedom that crushes with its power, and molds with its weight. I smile at the thought of possibility, while shying away from the thoughts of a future as broken as the present.

When I leave this town tomorrow, I will have everything I need with me. The city will come alive in the morning, and it will not know I have left. Meetings will continue, parties will still be planned, and 10 million souls will dive headfirst into their own problems.

But Chicago, I will miss you. I love you and this is a dangerous kiss goodbye. Will it be my last sight of you? My mind dances at the thought of a glorious return, a comeback tour. But I also wryly acknowledge that maybe you and I weren't meant to be, as much as I believed in our future.

Chicago, you have been a tough lover. You have elated me and stomped on my heart, but I will always remember you fondly. Send me a postcard, I am following the dark road of faith.

A Mad Mad Mad Mad World

Listen, I think I have a problem with being obsessed with Mad Men. The other day, I had work off because I was going to meet with a few people from agencies, but both meetings fell through. Since I had just gotten the second season of Mad Men, me and my roommates decided to knock out a few episodes.

Eventually, someone started combing their hair, someone threw on a skinny tie, and before we knew it this happened.

Yep. No other way to go about this than admit this was simply a case of playing dress up.

Anyway, after my roommate Joel enthusiastically told me to drink that glass of Scotch, we headed to Arturo's tacos for some Tostada's and a pitcher of Margarita. Nothing like getting kinda tipsy in a suit in a seedy Mexican restaurant at 5 pm on a Tuesday.

setting: Art Pizza Cafe, Old Town, Chicago. Soft new age music combining native american chants with house beats is playing

Marcus: Is this the music that music lovers listen to when they have exhausted every other genre? Is this the pinnacle of music taste?

Lewis (Immediately): No, nineties rock is.

The Inauguration - Some Advice

Oh, well its Friday Night and I think we all know what that means - Time to Blog!

The combination of a few Old Styles ($4.99 for a twelver) and the Chicago news has brought me to discuss a very important subject: How to make the presidential inaugeration even more badass.

Undoubtedly, Barack and Roll Obama is the most kickass president we've had in a while. Not only is he inspiring and whatever, but he can dunk and can name hits by Jay-Z. In celebration of this mans kickass presidency (which I hope will not be ruined by some morons trying to "get things done politically", or "using power as the leader of the free world"), I am giving Barack a few tippers on how to really make his inauguration blow everyone else even more out of the water. I'm not talking Greek pillars or performances by Bruce Springsteen, I really want this sucker to cook.

So Barack, (first name basis, right?) get these into your sched ASAP.

1. Guitar solo during speech
I think it should be a pretty slow, mournful solo during the parts about America's struggle, but then a kickass (how many times do I use that modifier?) triumph solo over the parts about how we are going to fix things with a crazy dive bombing chromatic frenzy when he is talking about kicking other countries ass . Possibly a blend of Metallica's "On the road again" intro solo, the Top Gun anthem, and anything off of Reign in Blood. Slash would be an ideal figure, although Buckethead would also work as symbolism of a faceless generation.

2. The Jesse White Tumblers
Over the presidents head during the speech. Total South Side Chicago connection

3. Some dunks or high fives or both
Well, Barack must be friends with MJ, so this would be easy to get. Nothing special, just some windmills, 360's, and tomahawks perhaps coinciding with Barack's points of making America worthy of the Team America theme song.




















Uh, Mr. Obama? Mr. Airness was busy. Luc Longley can come though.

4. Some spinning out rides
I think it should be a dodge viper. My roommate argues it should be a Bentley. The classic classy vs. power burnout argument. Either way, their should be some cars burning the hell out during his speech, maybe even ghost riding a lil' bit.


Ok..maybe not ghost ridin

But seriously...Dodge Vipers

















You are a liar if this pic doesn't make you proud to be a 'Merican


5. Special FX
It could go several ways. My roommates voted for an escape on a helicopter after your speech was done, preferably through a rope. I thought it would be kinda sweet if you came to your speech by jumping a motorbike over the white house, which would be on fire, which would be put out by you during your jump which would, yeah be in slow motion, and you would have a crazy hose to put out the fire. So symbolic of you putting out the fires in our troubled nation and another presidents (cough cough) presidency.

On last note, is Michael Bay organizing your inauguration? If not please give him this authority ASAP

















He's got this sh*t under control.

What are your suggestions on how to make this presidential inauguration an even bigger deal?

Mad About You

I suppose I should continue with my personal blog.


Let me commence my continuation with a review of AMC's Mad Men, which I finished season 1 of tonight.


Best Television Show I've Seen.

Skinny Ties and Pomade Alone Make This Show Amazing

Granted, I haven't watched Soprano's, and I'm using a little bit of a different scale than I would for comedy (Arrested Development still wins that). However, the characters, the devotion time period integrity, the brilliant script, the subtle yet tangled situations, and the emotion that is, in the words of Don Draper, "Subtle, yet potent", all make this show compare to not just great tv, but great movies.

Tonight, I watched the final episode of season one, and a scene literally drove me to tears. That has not happened to me with any movie or show. Ever. Oh I've had moments of emotional edges, but never tears. The show is thought-provoking, entertaining, stylish, sometimes hilarious, and, above all, moving. Watch it.