Angles.

Today at Chipotle:

Joah: 'Match Point' sucked.
Ryan: Really? I had heard things.
Joah: It was just bad.
Ryan: But Scarlet Johannson is hot.
Joah: She is, but Ryan doesn't think so.
Ryan: It's like people who think Angelina Jolie is gorgeous, when she really isn't.
Joah: You have to get her at the right angle.
Ryan: With a sledgehammer.

One quarter of humanity.

That's how many people watch the World Cup. I just filled out my bracket, which is far more intensive than the NCAA tournament as you have to predict scores in the group stages in order to determine who moves on based on goal differential, beyond the points for wins and draws. Anyway, my bracket is crap, but I'll give it to you anyway.

Nothing terribly shocking in the group stage, except that Ecuador wins all three matches and takes Group A over Germany, who barely squeaks past Poland by a goal. In Group B, Sweden as well goes undefeated, with England making it out of group stage (just in time to get Wayne Rooney back). Argentina and Holland tie at seven points apiece, but the Argentines use their extra firepower to take the top slot in Group C. Portugal (my sentimental pick due to the greatest uniforms I've ever seen) carries Group D, with Mexico also making it to the Round of 16. I think the USA, despite many doubts (most of them credible), will indeed manage to get out of the group over the Czech Republic thanks to a win over Ghana in the final group game; Italy scores a barrage to sail into the knockout stage. Brasil, of course, also gets a clean sheet and allows only one goal, to Japan, who capitalize on the weakness of the group to take second in Group F. For the second straight Cup, France will falter in group play with Korea and the Swiss going through within a point of each other. And in Group H, Spain takes a lacklustre grouping for a spin, and Ukraine beats out Tunisia on the differential.

That sets up the Round of 16, as follows: England over Ecuador; Argentina over Mexico; Sweden over Germany; Portugal over Holland; Italy over Japan; Korea over Ukraine; Brasil over the USA; and Spain over Switzerland. In the quarterfinals, Argentina adds to the heated fiery hellish inferno of a rivalry by beating England; Portugal overcomes Sweden in a goal-fest; Italy finally chooses to clamp down in route to beating Korea; and Spain's run comes to an end against Brasil.

The semi-finals will see Argentina dispatch Italy, and Brasil, barely, sees off their colonial masters, as Portugal exposes chinks in the gleaming armor. Portugal rebounds to defeat Italy in the third-place game, while Argentina, in an absolute delight of a final (much unlike four years ago), matches Brasil blow for blow, talent for talent and wins the Cup, their third.


Sadly, I will be in class while most of this happens. Do enjoy it all for me.

NYU.

So it turns out, for those of you who haven't been in the loop over the past week, that I got accepted into New York University for graduate school after all. I just opened my official letter about three minutes ago, but I got the email last Thursday. What happened was I applied for the Cultural Criticism and Reporting masters program within the department of journalism during winter break, but I really doubted my chances and subsequently forgot all about it, especially after I got into Columbia for the summer.

That is, until this email hit my inbox at about the exact time that I was handing in my final assignment here at KU, a term paper critiquing Tom Friedman's obnoxious book Lexus and the Olive Tree for my mentor, the amazing Professor Antonio. I was informed that due to the extraordinary number of people who applied for the CRC program I was turned down, but also that my application was indeed so impressive to the committee that a slot had been saved for me in the general News Reporting program, should I want it. All I had to do was tell them to reprocess my application, and I would have four weeks to decide to enroll.

Now there are several worthy factors to consider, namely 1) I just spent the last few months talking about how ready I was to get out of school for a while, and started looking forward to a career in publishing. Now I again have thoughts of journalistic and literary glory hanging in front of my face, when I had nearly resigned myself to a career of management and number crunching (as most book editors are now expected to do). 2) Is it worth the certain tens and tens of thousands of dollars in debt that will certainly accrue from living and studying in the heart of Manhattan over the span of eighteen months, though I managed to get through my undergrad without any debt? 3) I'm pretty sure it's too late to find campus housing, so I'll have to delve into the most notorious apartment living scene in the nation, and do so in short order. Had they informed me of my acceptance a month earlier this could've played out differently; middle of May is kinda late in the game to be telling somebody to get ready to move across the country and enroll.

I'm still unsure as to what I'll do. Honestly, I can't imagine turning it down, especially considering that I'm also going to Columbia and will thus be able to combine both the publishing experience there with the MA in news reporting. I'll keep you posted, but for now, speaking of Columbia, I gotta start my homework. I have enough advance assignments to potentially do more work leading up to my arrival in NYC than I did in this past semester. No offense, Professor.

Hello, Grey's Anatomy.

Goodbye, West Wing. No, tonight's season finale wasn't another Two Cathedrals, but that was television as cinema. This was television as itself, and at its best.

Loans.

The federal government, and the private banks, can all suck it when it comes to student loans. So what if it's a six-week summer continuing education course with no hours or credit? Wankers.

United.

I saw United 93 this evening. There's nothing I can say that hasn't already been said by New York magazine or Rolling Stone or the countless newspaper reviews of this movie, so I'll just have to tell you what I felt.

Last year for Western Civ 2 we had to read a Holocaust narrative, All But My Life by Gerda Klein, as our final book of the course. Crimes against humanity have been a particular interest for me over the years stemming from my passion for WWII history, but I had never read anything that dealt with the Holocaust on a personal level. Reading All But My Life, I had to put it down every few pages and get up and walk around because of the sheer dispair that I was experiencing. That I knew what was going to happen, and that it was sixty years and a lifetime ago did not help me become a dispassionate, objective reader; if anything it did the opposite. I knew these people were going to die, and that I was powerless to stop it.

So it was with the film tonight. The underlying message for all of the administrators and air traffic controllers was clear enough: what the fuck do we pay you for? But if the movie has a political tone, that is it. The rest of the film is as magnificient as it is excruciating; the climactic twenty minutes, showing the final phone calls, the last prayers to God (on both sides), and the struggle to take back a plane spinning from the heavens down to its fated resting place, could well be the most unforgettable twenty minutes ever filmed. Though I could feel tears streaming down my cheeks, I was as powerless to stop them as I was to stop that plane.

Is it too soon for a movie about 11 September? Of course it is. For those of us who experienced that day, who tuned in the horror of an act of war before our very eyes, who listened to commentators trying not to blow their shit, who gave blood or who simply stood outside that next morning to listen to the silence of the skies, it will always be too soon. This is why we have art, and why we must hope to God that those who make that art have the understanding, empathy and decency to help us realize that while we may be powerless, it is just for a moment in time. Indeed, we have only that moment to spare.

The E to the 1.

I just spent a good portion of time looking at my Not For Tourists guidebook to New York City, specifically the information on getting to Manhattan from either JFK or LaGuardia. I proceeded to spend several minutes staring at the MTA subway maps and tried to figure out some earthly way to get from the E train coming in from Queens to the 1 train that runs the western length of the island and would take me to the appointed destination of Columbia station, right across the street from my summer dorm. Then I said 'Fuck it, I'll spend the forty bucks to have a car pick me up. It would be good to not die on my first day in New York.'

Today on 'How low can the president go?'

31%. Sweet mother of Abraham Lincoln that's insane.

Sex.

A blog post even better and more inspired than the Times magazine article it's based on, which was already pretty damn good.

Shoot me now.

The most sickening thing I've ever read. Seriously, a third of all college-aged people in America can't find Louisiana on a map? Three-quarters think English is the most widely spoken language in the world? Over 40% couldn't identify Iraq, Iran, Israel or Saudi Arabia?

Maybe using proportional representation to get more people to vote isn't the best idea in the world.

Yearbook Day!

They arrived, and they far exceeded my expectations. Bring on Columbia.