Tricks.

No trick-or-treaters tonight. I'll have to find some use for all this crack I had purchased to hand out. Damn kids; since when did they learn to say no to drugs?

Political ninja.

And it's worth noting, while we're on the topic of the Supremes, that Harry Reid, the Senate Minority Leader from Nevada, is fast becoming my favorite politico. While I've previously mentioned my disdain for the Democratic Party itself, and some of the various interests that have strangled it, I still retain a lot of respect for certain Democrats: Eliot Spitzer, attorney general and future governor of New York; Brian Schweitzer, governor of Montana; Barack Obama, Senator and rising star from Illinios; and, as I seemingly betray my indie credentials, Ted Kennedy of Massachusetts, who has made a passionate, lifetime cause out of achieving healthcare and education for those left behind by the machine that is our national economy.

I add Senator Reid to the list because of the masterful way in which he has been playing the game in DC the last few months; his skill as Minority Leader has been below the radar for most of his term, but beginning with the Miers nomination he has shown the Republican Party his true face. Reid suggested Miers to President Bush, and on the day of the nomination came out and spoke highly of her. Then, he sat back and watched as the conservative movement began to tear itself apart over this 'stealth' candidate for the high court. When the nomination went down in flames last week, Reid was able to stand up and ask that if Miers couldn't satisfy the radical wing of the GOP, then what? Through his devotion to the Senate's role to advise and consent–meaning that he has regularly sought to work with the president on nominations of this sort–Reid has provided plenty of cover for the Democrats and the moderate Republicans to safeguard the Supreme Court. It is political jiujitsu, the way it's supposed to be done. I think Reid should wear a Batman costume tonight.

Hearts and minds.

The Kos has just posted the perfect summary of what the battle for the Supreme Court means for the nation. Course, I'm actually of the opinion that Roe should be overturned for several reasons, notably because it won't change anything, but also because of why it won't change anything: a clear majority of the population does not agree with arch-conservatism. If the reactionary right wing of this country thinks that they have the votes, or that the electorate will agree with them, then I say let them shoot their load; it's about time they learn Democracy 101, and it oughta be the hard way.

Journalism, Canadian style.

I've often been both intrigued and impressed with newspapers from the other English-speaking countries, but none more so than Canada. The Toronto Star publishes probably the neatest Sunday paper in the world, while the sheer diversity of the national dailies and their front page treatments is refreshing in a country that practically encourages blandness. Today's Hamilton Spectator is a case in point: I could never see the Kansas City Star or the Dallas Morning News trying something like this.

The last time I saw this type of a front page, it was The Sun in London printing, on the day of England vs. Brazil in the 2002 World Cup: 'This page is cancelled. Nothing else matters.' Well, I think the editors in Hamilton found something that matters more.

Jeebus, Pt. 2.

I just now saw a black Hummer drive past with a Mizzou logo painted on the side, three Mizzou flags flying from the windows, and a tiger tail hanging from the rear windshield wiper. Honestly, what the hell is wrong with that state?

Jeebus.

Missouri man arrested after machete attack in downtown Lawrence

Yes yes, there is obviously more to the story than what the headline reveals, but the question still remains:

Why didn't we let Missouri secede from the Union when we had the chance?

Revisions.

"Kent State Natl Guard Fends Off Violent Protestors." Excuse the quality of the graphics, but the main point is still very much right on target. Via the Kos.

Bandwidth, Pt. 1 & 2.

Today is some annual band competition and festival over at Memorial Stadium, which means I've had to put up with freaking high schoolers and their drums for the better part of the day. At least I was able to find the publishing/typography/design section of books at Watson Library to spend an hour combing through every shelf and title. Such a nerd.

And I just looked up my broadband summary for how much bandwidth I've used from the cable company. My monthly fee includes 6GB of bandwidth; on this, the 22nd day of the month, I'm approaching 7GB. iTunes and the Apple trailers page are really killing me here. Yeah, that's it.

Many chickens were harmed in the production of this.

Last night at J&M's, after suffering for two hours for our correct order to arrive, then digging into six meals for less than $20:

Jeff: This is my dream: a Chinese buffet in my house! If we had a heat lamp and a sneeze guard, oh my God!

Ryan: You realize we have five different chicken dishes here? And we only ordered three of them?

Michelle: So we're pretty much sharing at this point.
Jeff: Yes yes, the three meals in the middle are community food.
Ryan: Mao you bastard, eat your heart out.

See and be seen, Pt. 2

This is getting ridiculous. Upon leaving work this morning, and with a print of the proposed yearbook cover in hand, I ran into Joah in the Union and walked her to class, then on the way back passed by Kathy from this summer (though it didn't seem as though she recognized me). This afternoon I walked to the library to return books and passed by my journalism professor from three years ago now who still knew my name from a 500-person lecture class. And of course, most pleasantly I was returning to class in the Fraser Hall basement during break and saw dearest Mischa studying on a couch. So I sat with her and we had our usual great/packed conversations where we cannot stop talking before I headed back to class, whereupon I realized that they were all waiting for me to return so that we could get on with it. If I had known that I would've stayed longer with Michelle to discuss the red fishnet stockings. Oh, oh yes.

Shocked, shocked I tell you!

To find that people actually still drink Budweiser. Two words people: Shiner. Bock. Or, Boulevard. Wheat.

And just to pile on even more: "Anheuser-Busch says the game's instructions called for water to be consumed during play, not beer." Hmm, I doubt anybody tasted a difference. BURN!

This is not the way it was supposed to go.

The 'victory lap' was supposed to be a joyous jog through my extra year at KU, not the stumbling bumbling fast walk that it is in danger of becoming. Though I got one of the few perfect scores on my Latin American history midterm yesterday, I got less than exemplary marks in my other two classes: a 61 in Feminist Theory and a 76 in Religion & Society, both curved by the way. What happened? Ridiculous study errors. I forgot that I was allowed a cheat sheet in my Theory class that would've allowed me to write down the authors of our 20 articles with said articles and main ideas; without that, I lost 30 points on the first page alone of the test. And in R&S, I was frazzled by that history class that I did a quick review of my notes and failed to grasp that cults and new religious movements are the same damn thing, thus costing me essay points. Granted this is one test, and it is easily balanced out by the second tests (which I will know how to study for in a much better and efficient manner) and the papers that are due in both classes, but it is disconcerting to sit there for an hour and think 'Dammit, am I gonna have to drop this now so it doesn't bring down my GPA?'

These scores are but the latest in a series of doubts I've had about whether this year was a good idea or not. My original plan back in March was to stay here for a semester and take a few classes (because I was already locked into my lease again and had a job lined up for the fall), before going off to some big city to get an internship at a journal or publishing house. Then I decided to do the yearbook again and the 'extra year' was born. But it turns out that my jobs are not hardly the type of challenging/satisfying work that one would like, the yearbook is giving my fits in terms of dealing with our new publisher, and everybody is still looking at me funny like 'What are you still doing here?' I am now asking myself the exact same question.

Oh I'll stay and finish this out; I've never been one to back down. And it's not like things would be any simpler had I decided not to stay for the year, but in the back of my mind I'll still wonder about the roads not taken. It remains though that there is a job at hand, and I must complete it. I'm still bored to death, but at least now I have a challenge. There is nothing I cannot stand more than the idea of professors thinking that my abilities and understanding are lacking (same goes with yearbook publishing representatives); it is time now to kick ass and chew bubble gum. And I'm all out of bubble gum.

Now they tell me.

Via Kathy (side linkie):

You Should Get a MFA (Masters of Fine Arts)

You're a blooming artistic talent, even if you aren't quite convinced. You'd make an incredible artist, photographer, or film maker.

What Advanced Degree Should You Get?

See and be seen.

Upon sitting down on Wescoe Beach for the first time this semester, within two minutes I saw one of the guys from the Duke TiP staff, somebody who just graduated from my high school, and one of my editors from last year. Considering the odds, I think I'll be investing in some Powerball tickets for Wednesday.

Caveat Emptor.

Why does the Jayhawker cost $35 with a bunch of pictures I could take on my own?

From the 12 Oct. Free for All in the Kansan. But he had to pay $35 to find that out! Hahaha! Sucka!

Superheroes are made, not born.

To be honest, this is Dave Egger's truly heartbreaking work of staggering genius. Now if only the rest of society could step up to the plate.

Holy Crap! Pt. 2.

Apologies to all of the Nobel Prize winners, but I do think this is much more deserving. Via Coudal.

Dammit.

Holy crap!

I'm sure the champagne is being poured in College Park today. As soon as I saw the headline 'Game Theorists Win Nobel Prize for Economics', I thought of Lee. Suffice it to say, one of the winners is a professor at Maryland, who 'showed ''that a party can strengthen its position by overtly worsening its own options, that the capability to retaliate can be more useful than the ability to resist an attack, and that uncertain retaliation is more credible and more efficient than certain retaliation.''' Thanks to Lee, I kinda understand what that all means. I *knew* there was a reason I started rereading Naked Economics yesterday...

Things I Love, #37.

The utter chaos and resplendence of "I'll Believe Anything" by Wolf Parade, off their new album Apologies to Queen Mary. The first 3'45" are all over the place, leading to a final minute of straight-out, clear-cut rock, and yet it all has purpose, driving forward towards not just anything, but something. Perhaps even everything.

On running stairs in 35 degree weather.

Hey Mr. Cold Front,

You know that guy running the stairs in Memorial Stadium this morning? Yeah that was me. How do you like them apples? Notice that sweatshirt and pair of windpants I left sitting on the bleachers? That's what I think of your near freezing temperatures; I got by just fine with my tights, Nike Pro tee-shirt and a long sleeve shirt. It's called layers you lazy bastard. Was that really all you got? Think if you plunge the mercury down from a low of 70 when I ran stairs on Tuesday to 35 this morning that it's really gonna stop me? Let me tell you, my friend; it's gonna take some freakish combination of ice, snow and lightning to keep me from putting in 45 min. of launching myself up those stairs. And I'll believe that when I see it. So good try sucka; don't feel bad, cause you're not the first to fail in this particular endeavour.

–Ryan.

PS: If you could kinda take it easy on the wind chill next time, that would be great. Thanks.

Talent.

Forget Lance. I'm talking about the t-shirt designers (bottom of the page).

Upside down.

This weekend was most unexpectedly spent rereading an oft-ignored section of my bookshelf: Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged. When I read them a few years ago I thought they were the greatest books ever written, and even though in the span of time since I had somewhat renounced nearly everything Rand wrote in favor of, the same thought has remained in the back of my mind:

The Cub Tracks 2001, the first issues of the Greyhound Express, the Jayhawker MMV and 06: They exist because of me. I made them possible. I did them because I looked at a blank sheet of paper and thought what could be. No other reason was needed.

Being at a crossroads in my academic & professional life, it was an almost mindblowing experience to reread the words of Howard Roark and Gail Wynand and Francisco d'Anconia this weekend (even if they are all bloated characters in very bloated books); it will take me some time to make sure I am comfortable with my political leanings (if I have any at all). I can state this: I have been done with the Democratic Party for a long long time; in fact, I may have never even started. Tom mentioned that he is a 'libertarian socialist' the other night on the phone, and I liked it at the time, but still have difficulty saying it with a straight face. It's a conflict for me: I agree with many facets of libertarianism, but I can't seem to shake my hope/belief that government can and should provide a safety net of such proportions as to make capitalism work even better. After all, "Free trade stops wars. And you figure out a way to fix the rest." All I know for now is that I want to go into publishing, and I want to do it as quickly as possible so that I can create, and edit, and earn money, so that I may live the life of unbridled joy and passion that I always wanted. To read Rand, no other reason is needed.

Other notes on the weekend:

• Had a great time Friday night with my friend Julie from the staff this summer, which continued through much of Saturday morning. In doing so, I made my first return appearence at Abe & Jake's Landing since the infamous 'Night of the passing out on the sidewalk before walking home in the darkness without getting run over and the next morning discovering a gash across my chin, the creation of which I'm still clueless about.' Needless to say, none of those things happened again.

• Wanted to study. Tried to study. Should have bloody well studied. But alas, it was of no use. I will go into my Feminist Theory midterm on Tuesday after half a semester of not taking notes. I know the theory, but there's so many names. Get used to this phrase: I've done graduated, suckas!

• Same goes for work on my Latin American conflicts paper; however, I will try hard on that because I might need a good recommendation from this instructor. In all liklihood I won't need it, but it never hurts to have a hyooge ex-marine who got his PhD in three years tell people that I'm his best student ever.

• Discovered the most incredible music in a long long time, and this includes Arcade Fire, Interpol, DJ Tiësto, and even The Decemberists. But I'm keeping it a secret, for only a select few as I deem worthy of listening to such sublime works of art. Or for whoever asks me.