Greetings and salutations, web surfers.
Wow, it's been a while since I've posted anything here. Frankly, I've been up to my ears in shit lately. But now it's better - I'm in way over my head at this point. As I've learned from movies like Scarface and Blow, it is important to know when to pull out. Take that any way you wish.
As it stands, I'm completely fucked in Chem - not only was I horribly sick for most of the first half of the course, I've now lost my notebook. Whether I pass or fail this course now entirely depends on what I get on the next two tests, and few quizzes. Well, that's not entirely true. I'm already fucked when it comes to the quizzes. But I can save myself with a D or C if I'm lucky. Plus, there's the final, which is not worth as much as you'd think. And the lab grade, which I'm doing decently in. It's kind of funny, how I can't get anything done in the course itself, but I can do all the lab work. One of life's little mysteries, I guess.
So the gods don't want me to pass Chem. That's fine, but I'm not going down without a fight. But that's not all, ladies and gents. I also have to deal with a complete tool of a history teacher - a man who marked my midterm essay down because he printed out a copy of it and stapled the pages together in the wrong order. He also marked down because I did not include in my bibliography two books that I didn't use to compose the essay, for the simple reason that they had nothing to do with my topic. But, such is life, I guess. At least, that's what I'm told. Life really sucks, doesn't it?
Oh, but it gets better from here. I'm also investing a lot of my time in this play I'm starring in for Performance II. This wouldn't be so bad, if it wasn't one of the worst plays I've ever read. Or if the director knew what he was doing. Or if I could act. Hell, there's so much wrong here that I can't even begin to tell you. Just take my word for it, you won't want to see the final production.
What else? Well, papers, exams, essays, and St. Augustine take up all my time right now. Nothing like bringing up my spirits by reading the confessions of a man who hates his own life, huh? Here is a sign of how religion is bad. This man was so into god and all that stuff, that he loathed his own existence, since he is inherently a sinner. He spends this book fucking whining about shit he can't even control, and brooding over stupid shit he did as a kid. I mean, come on! Get over it! As much as I dislike the world, and dislike my life, and just generally dislike everything, I look at it and laugh. How can I help it? The world truly is a funny place, even if the only laughter it can evoke from me is a deeply cynical laughter. This Augustine guy needed to laugh a bit more. Hell, even god must have some sense of humor.
Having a disposition such as mine is not entirely a bad thing. I can entertain others with details from my pathetic life. Most don't realize this, but the root of all humor is in self-deprication. I will give you an example - stand-up on Comedy Central. There are two kinds of comics: Those who make fun of themselves, and those who make fun of others. The jokes making fun of others are nowhere near the quality of those told about oneself. There are also the types like Jerry Seinfeld, who makes fun of himself by whining about others. Yes, the whining rants of these types of comics is a form of self-deprication. Those of us who find them funny realize this to some extent. Those of us who find them annoying generally think that these comics are being honest on stage. Such is the duplicitous nature of the stand-up comic.
Of course, this act is nothing without good writing. If the comic does not write any of his own material, all he is is an actor. While acting is definitely important, the true comic genius lies in the minds of the writers. These are the people who are liable to start up dinner conversations with each other concerning interesting ways to commit suicide.
Well, I have a few hours to go before class, and only four Mountain Dews left in my box of twelve. I've got to make these last, or else go back to my room - waking my roommate in the process - to get some of those coffee-flavored things. While they may be nasty, they do their job well. Well, I'm out of shit to bitch about. I'll try to have more of a point in the future.
Until next time,
Goose
©2004 by Goose
