M.I.A, Born Free from ROMAIN-GAVRAS on Vimeo.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Unfortune
Last Thursday, in the afternoon, I found out that a former classmate of mine - someone I'd known for 11 years - was dead. I'd had some inkling that there was something wrong that morning, when two or three of our mutual Facebook friends referenced his name (which I won't publish here, in deference to his family, his memory, and the fact that I really don't want to be the one they find when/if they Google their youngest son) in their status updates...but you can never really be sure until you're sure.
On Friday, we found out that he had committed suicide.
This weekend was pretty fucked up for all of us from my middle school and high school (he'd been my classmate in both levels). Of course you realize that life is intrinsically just a razor-thin mistake away from death. A meteorite could fall out of the sky and kill you at any moment, and that's just something you have to accept, or you'd end up living in a bubble. But death takes on a shade completely unfamiliar when the victim is your peer. That, too, is expected: oh sure, it could happen to me. But it was the fact that it happened to The Boy I Knew specifically that shocked me, shocked us all, I think.
The broad strokes of his character were that The Boy I Knew came from a happy family, and was a star athlete, valedictorian of our class, Ivy League educated. I'm pretty sure he was even fucking HOMECOMING KING. He was a golden boy. But there were things about him which you would have to move in closer to see: at the memorial service, yesterday, his father described him so appropriately - "The Boy I Knew abhorred a vacuum." If the room was ever silent, the conversation ever static, The Boy I Knew would suddenly speak up: Once, in History class (sophomore or junior year), he raised his hand and asked our young, female teacher, "I don't have a date to Homecoming. Will you go with me?" When she turned him down, he asked if it would be okay to bring an escort.
(There are so many stories about him like that...I'm saving mine for the letter I send his parents. It seems like they should be the first to know that their son impacted me in a way I'll always, always remember.)
But this isn't about the popular boy in school - the guy every girl wanted to fuck and every guy wanted to be. On the contrary - nobody wanted to have sex with him when I knew him in high school: he was notoriously bad with The Ladies. And nobody that I was aware of wanted to be him, either, unless they were envious of his athletic ability. The Boy I Knew managed to always be distinctly left of center.
Of course, we're all quirky and different and downright weird, and the amalgamation of all our foibles makes Normal. Despite that fact, every one of us is in a constant battle to shake what makes us odd: every single one of us is fighting every day to fade into the middle. Part of that comes from the fact that Man has always been a social animal - to linger outside the crowd meant vulnerability to predators - this was, of course, back in the time when humans had predators. Check out any ad on TV - the advertisers are preying on the very human need to be one of the crowd. Now our predators are not physically dangerous but psychologically and emotionally: Bullies.
It's easy to want to fade away to avoid being recognized for a freak or a spaz or a queer or whatever. But not The Boy I Knew. He was different, special in so many ways...the most important of which (to me) was that he embraced his oddity, his position on the Outside. Everything that should have made him ashamed made him proud, instead. That notorious failure with the girls in my class? In college, he wrote a bi-weekly opinion column in the school newspaper, and almost always included self-consciously terrible dating tips ("You may be tempted to give a girl flowers, but this is the new millennium - give her something practical. Like cash"). To acknowledge one's weirdness, to embrace it, to even wear it as a badge of honor, takes a bravery only a few will ever touch.
It seemed as though The Boy I Knew was aware of, able to see, a bigger picture...one that I am only now beginning to see for myself.
On Friday, we found out that he had committed suicide.
This weekend was pretty fucked up for all of us from my middle school and high school (he'd been my classmate in both levels). Of course you realize that life is intrinsically just a razor-thin mistake away from death. A meteorite could fall out of the sky and kill you at any moment, and that's just something you have to accept, or you'd end up living in a bubble. But death takes on a shade completely unfamiliar when the victim is your peer. That, too, is expected: oh sure, it could happen to me. But it was the fact that it happened to The Boy I Knew specifically that shocked me, shocked us all, I think.
The broad strokes of his character were that The Boy I Knew came from a happy family, and was a star athlete, valedictorian of our class, Ivy League educated. I'm pretty sure he was even fucking HOMECOMING KING. He was a golden boy. But there were things about him which you would have to move in closer to see: at the memorial service, yesterday, his father described him so appropriately - "The Boy I Knew abhorred a vacuum." If the room was ever silent, the conversation ever static, The Boy I Knew would suddenly speak up: Once, in History class (sophomore or junior year), he raised his hand and asked our young, female teacher, "I don't have a date to Homecoming. Will you go with me?" When she turned him down, he asked if it would be okay to bring an escort.
(There are so many stories about him like that...I'm saving mine for the letter I send his parents. It seems like they should be the first to know that their son impacted me in a way I'll always, always remember.)
But this isn't about the popular boy in school - the guy every girl wanted to fuck and every guy wanted to be. On the contrary - nobody wanted to have sex with him when I knew him in high school: he was notoriously bad with The Ladies. And nobody that I was aware of wanted to be him, either, unless they were envious of his athletic ability. The Boy I Knew managed to always be distinctly left of center.
Of course, we're all quirky and different and downright weird, and the amalgamation of all our foibles makes Normal. Despite that fact, every one of us is in a constant battle to shake what makes us odd: every single one of us is fighting every day to fade into the middle. Part of that comes from the fact that Man has always been a social animal - to linger outside the crowd meant vulnerability to predators - this was, of course, back in the time when humans had predators. Check out any ad on TV - the advertisers are preying on the very human need to be one of the crowd. Now our predators are not physically dangerous but psychologically and emotionally: Bullies.
It's easy to want to fade away to avoid being recognized for a freak or a spaz or a queer or whatever. But not The Boy I Knew. He was different, special in so many ways...the most important of which (to me) was that he embraced his oddity, his position on the Outside. Everything that should have made him ashamed made him proud, instead. That notorious failure with the girls in my class? In college, he wrote a bi-weekly opinion column in the school newspaper, and almost always included self-consciously terrible dating tips ("You may be tempted to give a girl flowers, but this is the new millennium - give her something practical. Like cash"). To acknowledge one's weirdness, to embrace it, to even wear it as a badge of honor, takes a bravery only a few will ever touch.
It seemed as though The Boy I Knew was aware of, able to see, a bigger picture...one that I am only now beginning to see for myself.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Can you even believe this?
(That's Thom Yorke, fronting Atoms for Peace, covering Joy Division's "Love Will Tear Us Apart" because oh my GODDDDD)
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Names Redacted for the Sake of Future City Councilmen
Usually sifting through saved emails from years past gets me nothing but heartache and regrets. And yet I continue to do it anyway. I mean, there's a reason I save everything to disk - I think I'll be interested in it in the future. Most of the time I'm not interested: not interested at all. Sometimes, though, I am. Hence this conversation, about 10 months after we had it in the first place:
lorne: meanwhile i'm like I PUT MY WIENER WHERE?!?!?
me: hahahahahaha
YOU WANT TO DO WHAT WITH THAT?!
lorne: i mean knowing me i would actually call it wiener
to a girl i was about to hook up with
me: THANK YOU I'M SORRY
lorne: so, uh, gretchen.....you like my wiener, eh?
FUCK
me: hahahaha
"eh?"
that's hot, lorne
really sexy
at least you didn't call it a pee-pee tail
though knowing me i'd let it happen anyway because i think that phrase is FUCKING HILARIOUS
like, without bounds hysterical
lorne: WAIT
WAIT
me: ?
lorne: pee-pee tail?
i have never heard that
me: hahahahahahahaaha
WELCOME TO A NEW LEVEL OF COMEDY
lorne: oh my god i leveled up
me: HAHA YEAH YOU DID
lorne: i'm a level 7 wiener comedian
me: hahahahahahhaa
ahahahhahaa
lorne: now with pee pee tail spell
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Translation
This is a song written by an Italian to sound like English.
It's not English. It's gibberish.
It's not English. It's gibberish.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Limited Audience Appeal
Okay. I'm warning you ahead of time. If you're not a Mad Men fan, or if you're not secretly dating Jon Hamm (you know, so underground that not even Jon Hamm himself knows about it?), you will not find this interesting. It's a leaked video of some Mad Men wrap party, where the cast members all (possibly drunkenly) sing Bye Bye Birdie (a song which was featured prominently this past season). And oh yeah, Jon Hamm is in there. Is he ever. MMMmmmmm OKAY.
Additional disclaimer: I've been in academic advising for 3 hours (to be fair, I was trying to avoid schooling on Fridays or at night by shuffling all my classes over and over again) and am completely delirious.
Enjoy!
(Via Vulture Blog)
Additional disclaimer: I've been in academic advising for 3 hours (to be fair, I was trying to avoid schooling on Fridays or at night by shuffling all my classes over and over again) and am completely delirious.
Enjoy!
(Via Vulture Blog)
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Not...Quite...(gunshot)
Well, what I really wanted to know was how to find the expected interest rate of a 2-year Treasury security based on a current risk-free rate of 3%, but it doesn't matter anymore because I have to go kill myself now.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
WTF. IS DIS REAL
IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. WTF. IS DIS REAL. REAL. IS. IS WTF DIS REAL. REAL.IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. WTF IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. WTF. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. WTF. IS DIS WTF. REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. WTF. IS DIS REAL. REAL. WTF. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS.IS. IS WTF DIS REAL. REAL. IS. IS WTF DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS WTF REAL. REAL. DIS WTF IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS WTF REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. WTF REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL WTF DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. WTF. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. WTF DIS IS REAL. IS REAL WTF DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS WTF DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. WTF DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS WTF REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS.IS. IS DIS WTF REAL. REAL. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS WTF REAL. REAL. DIS IS WTF REAL. IS WTF REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS WTF REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. WTF DIS IS REAL. IS REAL WTF DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL WTF DIS. IS. IS WTF DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. WTF DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. WTF IS DIS REAL. WTF REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS WTF REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. WTF REAL. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. WTF REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. WTF REAL. DIS WTF IS REAL. IS REAL DIS. IS. IS DIS REAL. REAL. DIS IS REAL. IS REAL DIS.
Monday, April 5, 2010
New 3 Word Vocabulary
When I was in high school, my friends and I used to joke that we had a three word vocabulary. It consisted of Dude, Fuck, and Seriously, and it served us quite well - if you try hard enough (or not that hard at all, I guess), you can mix those three words up into a pretty sufficient number of permutations, and get your point across effectively.
This YouTube comment inspired me to go back to my linguistic roots. Except instead of "dude", "fuck", and "seriously"...
This YouTube comment inspired me to go back to my linguistic roots. Except instead of "dude", "fuck", and "seriously"...
Nerd Boyfriend is CORRECT SIR
You guys! Check out nerdboyfriend.com! It shows you where to get all these great, crushworthy nerd outfits, coupled with great, crushworthy nerds wearing them.
Like this:
Like this:
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck
So...it's April now. I was definitely going to join NaBloPoMo - this month's theme is "Big" and I am definitely one for hyperbole so that would have been fun - except...finals season is upon us! That's right, this month will feature multiple Tweets on your favourite Priya Topics, including the ever popular "I AM SO FUCKED, WHY DIDN'T I EVER FUCKING DO MY FUCKING HOMEWORK" and the often requested "Where's That Screenplay? Or: A Time to Procrastinate"
Priya. Screwing myself over since 1995.
Here is a picture of President Obama feigning interest in my woefully inarticulate academic self-shittings.
Really, Priya? So interesting. Tell me more about your post-tween angst. Working on an international solution for the new Nuclear Arms Race can wait.
Oh my god, how funny is it that President Obama reads my blog? BECUZ OF COURSE HE DOES. Like I said, not much else going on with him these days. Keepin' a low profile. Just trying to make it through to summer, like everyone else.
Really the only class I'm worried about is FINANCE because AUGH WHY DID I DO THIS. I had lunch with Caroline today and we talked about the differences between Finance and Accounting - the end result being that I walked away with a big sigh of relief that I am pursuing neither in the long term. Because that would just be fucking retarded on all counts. It's not a strength (it's actually a weakness. Math is my silver bullet AND YET), and it's only interesting to me in the most theoretical sense. Using my finance knowledge would actually be damaging to other people. I know "just enough to be dangerous". Which is to say: I know just enough to convince you to hire me, and then FUCK UP COMPLETELY and in so doing RAZE YOUR COMPANY TO THE GROUND.
This rambling must cease. I'm going to go busy myself offline for a while until my computer cools down (I've been dicking around on the internet for 5 hours. FIVE). And then...more dicking around. Can't wait. UGH.
(Inspired by this photoset)
Priya. Screwing myself over since 1995.
Here is a picture of President Obama feigning interest in my woefully inarticulate academic self-shittings.
Really, Priya? So interesting. Tell me more about your post-tween angst. Working on an international solution for the new Nuclear Arms Race can wait.
Oh my god, how funny is it that President Obama reads my blog? BECUZ OF COURSE HE DOES. Like I said, not much else going on with him these days. Keepin' a low profile. Just trying to make it through to summer, like everyone else.
Really the only class I'm worried about is FINANCE because AUGH WHY DID I DO THIS. I had lunch with Caroline today and we talked about the differences between Finance and Accounting - the end result being that I walked away with a big sigh of relief that I am pursuing neither in the long term. Because that would just be fucking retarded on all counts. It's not a strength (it's actually a weakness. Math is my silver bullet AND YET), and it's only interesting to me in the most theoretical sense. Using my finance knowledge would actually be damaging to other people. I know "just enough to be dangerous". Which is to say: I know just enough to convince you to hire me, and then FUCK UP COMPLETELY and in so doing RAZE YOUR COMPANY TO THE GROUND.
This rambling must cease. I'm going to go busy myself offline for a while until my computer cools down (I've been dicking around on the internet for 5 hours. FIVE). And then...more dicking around. Can't wait. UGH.
(Inspired by this photoset)
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Don't Listen to This
Unless you need a reason to slit your wrists in the bathtub.
Oh, Liz Phair. You're my hero. Now stop it before I kill myself.
Oh, Liz Phair. You're my hero. Now stop it before I kill myself.
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