Free speech is a myth.
The Departed wasn't that good. I finally saw it the other day. Really, it sucked.
Mark Wahlburg's squalid rants aside, there was little new about it. Nickolson went on as if he's playing the Joker again, Leonardo forgot how to act, and Matt Damon's accent sounded like it'd been locked in the attic since Good Will Hunting. Scorsese seems to have given in to the studios and made a movie by committee, by popularism and without any of the edge and real grit of Goodfellas or Casino. He even managed (to the film's detriment) to subdue the city of Boston, usually so charmingly prominent in any film shot there.
Of course there's been a mob of angry students, faculty and staff waving pitchforks and torches outside my window since I first circulated the above opinion. I'm the first person I've met not to build a shrine in his home for the galactic cinematic triumph that is The Departed.
It's an opinion that has pervaded my social life too. I find myself more and more alienated in OWU. This morning in Financial Management, the guy who usually sits next to me got up in a huff and went to sit across the aisle. Just last night I was evicted from my own room when I scoffed at the Best Picture Osar. And over the weekend I reduced a friend to actual tears with my cinematographic insensitivity.
My new fear is that rumor of my heresy will soon reach Northwestern Mutual Fund. Why, you ask, would this matter? Well because I'm scheduled for an interview at NWMF in Columbus on Wednesday, but haven't yet received confirmation of the meeting time. I fear they've gotten wind of my slander. Voltaire's turning in his grave I tell you.
In other news, I'm hoping to pick up Horizons International again after a brief hiatus. But it's going to be a busy week with two exams and this interview. I had a solid performance with bat and ball in our weekly cricket match (that's right, I play cricket. You got somethin' ta say?) yesterday as we beat the Lahoris in both games. Indoor cricket should be institutionalized.
But alas, dear reader, I leave you in a time of peril, fraught with danger at every corner. You may hear of me next nailing 95 theses on the front gates of Warner Brothers studios. Pray for me oh loyal reader, for the days of darkness shall soon be banished!
Ciao for now
Monday, February 26, 2007
Monday, February 19, 2007
War on Carb
I'm dieting.
I realize you, dear reader, don't know me too well yet. I'm about 5'11 and 180 pounds. So I'm not enormous. But the novelty here isn't numerical, its conceptual. You see never in my life have I given much credence to this whole health thing. I love rich, greasy food; the type of food that warms the tongue, slickens the teeth, quenches the soul. Burger, steak, liver, nihaari: all titillate my senses and grease my otherwise evasive personality. A day without a slab of meat is a day in the fires of culinary hell.
So I've been burning down here for 5 days. I eat only salads with vinaigrette, scrambled eggs, or (oh god) fresh fruit. I haven't come within a 10-foot radius of a carbohydrate since Friday. Bob, our house chef, is threatening to quit. My fraternity brothers don't see me anymore. They rumor around the house is that I'm vegetating in a corner of my room with a copy of the Tripitaka. It's too early to tell how this new regime will effect my sanity, but the early signs aren't encouraging.
The self-disciple might have been brought about by last week's crippling snow days. All hell sort of broke loose. Professors were scrambling to maintain class schedules, postpone exams, and generally have a field day with their email accounts. Us students reveled. I can say with certainty that last Wednesday, not a single person on campus took a shower. In addition to the hygienal festivities, lots of aforementioned food was consumed. Like, lots. We were all walking around with second day stubbles and protruding bellies. The local economy might actually have benefitted from 6 inches of snow that brought life to a stand still.
Anyway, the point being: I got fat. And now I'm on a perilous, impossible, Frodo-an quest to shave a few pounds off the mid-riff. One positive from all of this is that I caught up on some work. Speaking of which, good ol' Dr. Gitter has a nice little exam all ready for me tomorrow morning. More and exams and diets next week. Till then:
Ciao for now.
I realize you, dear reader, don't know me too well yet. I'm about 5'11 and 180 pounds. So I'm not enormous. But the novelty here isn't numerical, its conceptual. You see never in my life have I given much credence to this whole health thing. I love rich, greasy food; the type of food that warms the tongue, slickens the teeth, quenches the soul. Burger, steak, liver, nihaari: all titillate my senses and grease my otherwise evasive personality. A day without a slab of meat is a day in the fires of culinary hell.
So I've been burning down here for 5 days. I eat only salads with vinaigrette, scrambled eggs, or (oh god) fresh fruit. I haven't come within a 10-foot radius of a carbohydrate since Friday. Bob, our house chef, is threatening to quit. My fraternity brothers don't see me anymore. They rumor around the house is that I'm vegetating in a corner of my room with a copy of the Tripitaka. It's too early to tell how this new regime will effect my sanity, but the early signs aren't encouraging.
The self-disciple might have been brought about by last week's crippling snow days. All hell sort of broke loose. Professors were scrambling to maintain class schedules, postpone exams, and generally have a field day with their email accounts. Us students reveled. I can say with certainty that last Wednesday, not a single person on campus took a shower. In addition to the hygienal festivities, lots of aforementioned food was consumed. Like, lots. We were all walking around with second day stubbles and protruding bellies. The local economy might actually have benefitted from 6 inches of snow that brought life to a stand still.
Anyway, the point being: I got fat. And now I'm on a perilous, impossible, Frodo-an quest to shave a few pounds off the mid-riff. One positive from all of this is that I caught up on some work. Speaking of which, good ol' Dr. Gitter has a nice little exam all ready for me tomorrow morning. More and exams and diets next week. Till then:
Ciao for now.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
cold, camera-less days
So here’s my first post. It’s been a long time coming too. Hilary Lowbridge, Director of Admissions, has probably been tearing her hair out getting me to send in my bio and picture for the blog. The problem was that I couldn’t find a camera to take a suitable picture of me. Facebook pictures are always at awkward angles, or with friends, or inappropriate. And for some bizarre reason I couldn’t find a camera until yesterday. So the picture I’ve come up with is myself, three-quartered at an awkward angle in my orange room at Phi Gamma Delta (Fiji). It is a statement against the negativity of post-colonial semantics in describing the serendipitous partition of the sub-continent. But not really.
I do, however, have a new computer. Now, Ohio winters aren’t child’s play. They have a little bite, a little fight, a little personality. Late night winds in particular separate the men from the men-who-don’t-like-late-night-winds. In lieu of this, having one’s own computer for homework, surfing and bored.com is certainly worth it. For instance, I would normally have been in the library, with all its social, literary and gastronomic distractions, writing this. I also would’ve had to put on my shirt, brush my teeth, spray deodorant and, if that isn’t bad enough, walk fifteen minutes in the snow. I would’ve been grumpy. But luckily, dear readers, you’ve caught me in the comfort of my own room, shirtless, smelly and chocolate-toothed, telling you about OWU.
Oh yeah! I forgot about the whole talking about school thing. Classes are gaining momentum and beginning to threaten late night movies. I actually have an assignment due tomorrow for Labor Econ with Professor Gitter which I’m really stuck on. Why is this a problem, you ask? Well because it’s already mid-night, I’m not in bed, I’m going to wake-up with difficulty, show up late to his class, and have to pay a dollar. That’s right, you, dear reader, heard me. If you are late to Bob Gitter's class , you contribute to the Econ department’s candy fund by paying one whole dollar. As he keeps saying, “People respond to incentives.” And respond we do! No one is ever late to that class. It’s bizarre! As he also keeps saying, “A dollar saved is a dollar earned.”
Which brings me back to the camera. I need to get a camera for myself. But I have no money. Which brings me back to Labor Econ. I need to get to class on time.
Ciao for now.
I do, however, have a new computer. Now, Ohio winters aren’t child’s play. They have a little bite, a little fight, a little personality. Late night winds in particular separate the men from the men-who-don’t-like-late-night-winds. In lieu of this, having one’s own computer for homework, surfing and bored.com is certainly worth it. For instance, I would normally have been in the library, with all its social, literary and gastronomic distractions, writing this. I also would’ve had to put on my shirt, brush my teeth, spray deodorant and, if that isn’t bad enough, walk fifteen minutes in the snow. I would’ve been grumpy. But luckily, dear readers, you’ve caught me in the comfort of my own room, shirtless, smelly and chocolate-toothed, telling you about OWU.
Oh yeah! I forgot about the whole talking about school thing. Classes are gaining momentum and beginning to threaten late night movies. I actually have an assignment due tomorrow for Labor Econ with Professor Gitter which I’m really stuck on. Why is this a problem, you ask? Well because it’s already mid-night, I’m not in bed, I’m going to wake-up with difficulty, show up late to his class, and have to pay a dollar. That’s right, you, dear reader, heard me. If you are late to Bob Gitter's class , you contribute to the Econ department’s candy fund by paying one whole dollar. As he keeps saying, “People respond to incentives.” And respond we do! No one is ever late to that class. It’s bizarre! As he also keeps saying, “A dollar saved is a dollar earned.”
Which brings me back to the camera. I need to get a camera for myself. But I have no money. Which brings me back to Labor Econ. I need to get to class on time.
Ciao for now.
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