By Nous

                          March 22, 2005


MARCH14: ADBOTS

Apparently there's an argument made by professionals in the field
of anthropology that PMS is a cultural phenomenon and is actually
not biologically valid.  This is according to their research, of
course, which I haven't at all read up on, but I think it's kind
of interesting.
The most unusual part of it is that it is supposed to tie into
the fact that women at some point in time were made subordinate
to their husbands, and to men in general, whereas for thousands
of years prior to that men and women were seen as equals. Don't
quite understand this completely but one thing that seems to be
undisputed by people is the following argument: if PMS is indeed
biologically valid, I would expect to see it in every culture in
the world. And the simple fact is that one DOESN'T see this.
In cultures where men and women are considered equals, PMS is not
seen at all (an example of one of these cultures is the hunter/
gatherers). And in places where women have little to no rights,
it is more prevalent (for example: islamic cultures).
So, SOMEHOW, the subjugation of women ties into the "myth" of
PMS.
Rock on.

MARCH16: RIVER OTTERS

I'm forgetting my dreams.

MARCH18: CHAMPAGNE POLKA

It's not fun to go to English class anymore. It's not even okay.
My English teacher keeps singling me out and asking if I can stay
after class a while so she and I can talk.
"You have all the signs of a writer!" she wrote on one of my
essays. "Your papers are so Clear and Literate!"
Now, I admit, it is flattering. Very flattering, in fact. But it
just makes my stomach turn listening to her talk when she's just
looking straight at me.
Luckily, she just wanted to let me know that the Honors English
students meet once a month to discuss literature or something and
that I should go and find some "kindred spirits there."
I said I would, didn't thank her, and walked out.
As I turned the corner I grabbed my stomach, simpley grateful it
was over. And as I'm walking, I hear "psht!"
Ah! That was loud.
"Psht!"
Is that for me?
"Hey, psht!"
I turned and saw some Vietnamese guy in a sweater with the hood
over his head.  We were indoors, upstairs, in the warm hallway.
Hm.
"Hey," the guy said.
"Hey."
I looked at him as we were walking, not even watching where I
was going.
"Who are you?"
He didn't seem offended by this, but I know he was.
"I had you in class last year."
"Last year?"
"Yeah."
Last year I wasn't in school.  Unless he meant last SEMESTER,
which I guess would count as last year. But I didn't recognize
him.
History class? No, there wasn't an Asian guy in history class.
Philosophy? Maybe, but I didn't talk to anyone in there, so why
would he think that I remembered him?
Not math. Not English. Where the hell was he from?
"Where are you from?"
"Vietnam."
I was silent for a moment and that offended him even more, but
he kept the smile on his face.
"Anyways," he said.
"What class?"
"Anyways."
"Hey, uh, what's your name?"
"You call me Hai."
I guess that's how you would spell it? Just like "hi."
"What's up?"
"Hai."
"Hai?"
"Yeah, what's your name?"
I told him.
"Oh, well I've got to go." He pointed at the stairs that I also
had to take to get out, but I figured I could take the stairs on
the other side of the school. That would be less awkward.
"All right, man. Later."
I walked on down the hallway, quickening my pace. I KNOW that girl
behind us was listening to every word.

As I descended the stairs on farther down the hallway, I was on
the verge of laughter. What an unusual thing to happen so early
in the morning.
Maybe he mistaked me for someone else and realized it halfway
into our conversation. Or maybe as soon as I turned to look at
him.
I covered my mouth to hide the smile.
Then I saw Andy "Thong" Long waiting by a locked classroom with
a lot of other people. It looked like the room I went to for
anthropology.
"Hey," I said, as I walked by. He seemed to ignore my presence.
I lightly hit his shoulder and said, "Hey."
"Hey."
"What class are you going to now?"
"Anthropology." He twisted the doorknob. "But it's locked, so
I can't get in."
He seemed really awkward and it made me feel really awkward.
So I said, "Yeah, I have this class later," and just walked off.
Then I saw Derek too and I tapped him on the shoulder as I
walked by and said, "Hey."
He said, "Hey" as if he was really angry at me or like he didn't
want me disturbing him. He was talking to some lady. I guess I
shouldn't have said anything.

I just saw some monkeys getting drunk on the National Geographic
channel and it was obviously set up. How else would they know
that there was some guy "making bootleg liquor" in the middle of
the forest? They're going to destroy those monkeys' genes.

MARCH19: BREATHING THROUGH STRAUSS

Snapple Fruits, etc. Very good etc. Soft but not gummy etc. I
don't like etc gummy candy.
I've become this lame consumer now, in case you didn't know. I
can't stop using money on stuff I don't need at all. And you know
what did this to me, don't you?
A little state called California, with its ridiculous merchandise.
For example:

www.geocities.com/killthatguitar/toolbox.jpg

Or perhaps:

www.geocities.com/killthatguitar/poster.jpg

Lol:

www.geocities.com/killthatguitar/iambeautyfilled.jpg

MARCH21: SEE AMERICA WRITE

Went to the libray to go read up on Howard Hughes, on whom I am
doing a paper for history class. I originally chose Patton, but
have you seen The Aviator? That was pretty cool, but apparently
and according to a book I checked out, the entire movie is based
on Howard Hughes myth.
By the way, I meant General Patton from WWII, not Patton Oswalt
from Funnyland.
I also saw that the libray had Castle in the Sky.
Did I tell you I bought Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind,
which has recently been released on TWO DISC DVD!
No? Well I'm telling you now. And having read the comic book,
I was really disappointed at some of the things they left out
of the movie, but it was still good.
Going up to claim my booty, I barely managed to put my libray
card down before the guy who works there who I think went to
school with me said, "This is really really good."
He was talking about Castle in the Sky, which I haven't seen.
It was also very weird to be talking to this guy who I sort of
know from school but NEVER talked to. You know people like that.
Secret people. People you see in the halls and look them in the
eye but you don't say anything to them because you "dont know
each other."
Funny though. They're probably thinking the same thing.

Also, let me add that Asians should not make sexy pop music.
You guys are straight up adorable, so make bubble gum rock!
And wear bright outfits. You don't look right in that frayed
jean miniskirt and low-cut, silky top. I don't want to see
your cleavage. I want to see your smile.
Yes, I know you don't want to look like some Shopping Hero,
but as long as you don't ACT like one it's all good.

Howaaaard, the DUCK! ::whoosh!::
I mean, Hughes. Howard Hughes.
"HOWARD HUGS, you are a vampire!"
And when you shove a stake through his heart and he doesn't
die, you say, "Oh, sorry."
"That's cool, man."

OSLO, The Cat Returns DOESN'T look dumb. It looks like something
right up my alley.  And most things up my alley are very much of
interest to ME! What you mean to say then, is, "Nouswald of the
Goddamn World, The Cat Returns -- another movie by Hayao Miyazaki
recently released on TWO DISC DVD -- is not, I am assuming, up
MY god-forsaken alley; but, if I may add one last thing before
listening to music that is easy to make fun of even though I'm
always making fun of music other people listen to, I very much
believe that The Cat Returns is an animated feature you would
much enjoy."
To which I would reply, "Yes, indeed. I would tend to agree
with you, only you've often been wrong in the past about what
I would and would not like."
You would scratch your head and nod.
"Yes, I agree. I am only good for criticizing. BUT, I'm hoping
to put that unnecessary aspect of my character to rest for a
moment to tell you The Cat Returns would be something 'up your
alley.'"

Well, then I'll take your word for it. Until then, my friend.

MARCH22: 

I had a dream last night in which I went to see Metallica live
with a bunch of people and they were really bad. For one thing
the only person playing was James Hetfield.  And while what he
was playing did seem difficult, it was still embarrassing. And
he kept using his thumb to hit certain notes.
Jesus, and his fingers were really stubby and muscular.
Haha, and the other bandmates just watched him and occasionally
did backflips.
And there were SO many Mexicans there!
At some point, James Hetfield had a bee onstage, as part of the
show, and he angered it. So I got really low to the ground, but
it didn't sting anybody. Everyone kept saying things like, "Hey
watch out, B!"  And I made a joke about how I was talking to my
friend and I said, "Move out of the way, B," and it was the bee
from Metallica.
Yeah, I know, really lame. What do you expect? It was a dream.

Also, I dreamt heaven was one of those metal bins full of DVDs
that are on sale -- like the kinds they have at Wal-Mart.  And
in typical dream fashion, heaven was right there in the store,
but there were stairs that led to it. So one would walk up the
stairs only to find themselves back down in the store, among
the DVDs.
And I was dying so I was going to heaven, and some girl didn't
want me to die so I chose not to. And she and I started making
out, but she was really bad at kissing.

I should have certain rants where I just write down my dreams.

**

10:19 in the mornin' and I just finished racing down Spencer
with a bunch of other young ruffians. Six of us, one in each
lane, two rows, just completely tearing the road apart.  It
was EXACTLY like being a part of a country club.

finland