Oh, how it goes. Madness, madness, a travesty, and more madness.

So, here at the Shady Dealer, we are looking at a nice long fight with City Hall over us being recognized by the school, possibly because the SG president has it in for us and picked the committee, and also because the people picked happen to be humorless fucks.

And when I say this has been one gigantic travesty of a clusterfuck, I want you to know that I’m the level-headed editor. Zach hasn’t knifed anybody, which is a little surprising. So, we may or may not be meeting with the committee to see if we can negotiate a reasonable compromise (i.e. censorship system). That depends on how the writers feel at our staff meeting this week.

Let’s hear it for alternate funding possibilities.

Otherwise, well, White Sox mania has been sweeping campus, what with being on the South Side and all. And I just can’t bring myself to root against the ornery bastards. Very impressive, South-siders. Which reminds me, given that the opposition was the Astros:

I would feel about twelve times safer messing with Texas than messing with the South Side of Chicago. I’m just putting that out there.

And tonight, I almost went to a concert, and then I almost went swing-dancing, but instead I ate some delicious Pizzeria Due pizza with the Woodward peeps. And delicious though it was, spending four hours getting dinner does tend to take up most of one’s evening. Of course, then there was a great deal of random hanging out upstairs, which was also fun. So I’ve got no complaints.

And in other news, Sulu is gay.

In more hilarious news, they’ve indicted “Scooter” Libby. haha. “Scooter”. Skeeewter.

So...the White Sox have won the world series, the baseball season is over, and my interest in sports will go into hibernation for the winter. It's true that the White Sox played great baseball this season. Whether or not it was a fluke, however, remains to be seen. Is this team built for a dynasty in subsequent seasons, or will it putter out? Well, you all know what I'm hoping.

Still, we must remember, even with this World Series win, the White Sox are still a pretty historically sucky team. Similar to, oh, I don't know, the Chicago Cubs perhaps. In fact, their historical successes (or lack thereof) are quite similar to the Boys in Blue on the North Side. I'm not trying to steal the Sox's thunder here; I'm merely pointing out that Chicago's two baseball teams are linked by more than geography, whether we like it or not. Here are some stats recently compiled by a certain Chemistry teacher as a gift to a sceptical Speech teacher:

White Sox versus Cubs
1900-2005

Number of winning seasons (.500 or better)
White Sox-57
Cubs-50

World Series Appearances
Cubs-10 (1906, 1907, 1908, 1910, 1918, 1929, 1932, 1935, 1938, 1945)
Sox-6 (1901, 1906, 1917, 1919, 1959, 2005)

World Series Victories
Sox-3 (1906, 1917, 2005)
Cubs-2 (1907, 1908)

Additional Post Season Appearances
Cubs-4 (1984, 1989, 1998, 2003)
Sox-4 (1983, 1993, 1994, 2000)


Of course, following the most logical pattern, the Cubs are next in line for a world series title. Red Sox, White Sox, ....certainly the Cubs must be next. So here's to hoping that 2006 is our season (unless, of course, fate had the Cubs slated for 2003 and we blew it).

Meet Emmitt the Enraged Marmot, our new mascot at the Shady Dealer. Whee!

"Skeevier than a pack of one-eyed marmots."

Boy howdy.

You fit in with: Spiritualism Your ideals are mostly spiritual, but in an individualistic way. While spirituality is very important in your life, organized religion itself may not be for you. It is best for you to seek these things on your own terms. 60% spiritual. 60% reason-oriented.

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

Ah, hope without faith. Hell of a way to live.

On a Sunday morning sidewalk
I’m wishing Lord that I was stoned
‘Cause there’s something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone
-Johnny Cash

Well, I don’t feel that bad; I just really like “Sunday Morning Coming Down.” It’s a good song, and I opened this year by getting some Johnny Cash in my collection.

My inability to sleep past a certain level of ambient light in the mornings is a bit irritating, however.

But oh, what a weekend it’s been so far. So, yesterday I proved that amputees can be hilarious, though not as funny as crack, according to my sources. I still had Kelsey paralyzed with laughter doing what could be charitably called the “No Arms Dance”…

[does stuff for a while, returns to post-in-progress 12 hours later]

Man, I just realized that this is the third consecutive October during which someone has broken up with me. You wipe out this month, I’m nearly flawless. Zach, on hearing this, scratched his chin for a moment and told me that all his relationships have started in October… spooky. But I guess it’s always been.

Yes, Zach has just started dating someone. We’re all a little bit alarmed. And this time it’s not an elaborate hoax. Oh, sweet monkey-loving Jesus, I never explained that, did I? Zach and Kate were actually, according to their sworn testimony, never actually a couple. It was all a plan to get back at me for certain things, which means I made all those horrible, mind-searing puns over nothing. hehehe. God, those were brilliant.

So the upside of all this emotional turmoil is I’m remembering all the songs I haven’t listened to in a goddamn long time. iTunes tells me I haven’t heard “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” since June. Ah, well.

The other thing is there’s new poetry to be written. Though strangely based on a really happy tune I got in my head over the summer. The new one up is “Pull Myself Together.” So, y’know, check it out if that’s your thing. Or if you’re looking for something more coherent than this blog.

Really, people like my poetry. I find this encouraging. In particular, a random person on the elevator yesterday read a poem I was carrying and asked to keep it. That was spiffy. And then I continued on and started drinking up in 424. One of our resident suburbanites, Brianne had friends come down here, and they later, it was determined, went outside to snort Vicodin. I, for one, did not know that Vicodin was snorted. You learn something new everyday.

And that’s just about enough out of me for today. More tomorrow, I suspect.

Strange, strange moods:

Oh baby, why you gone and done me wrong?

Ah, Blues and Ribs night. Good times. And fencing dinner, also mostly fun.

So early in the morning...

Anyway, on the upside, I went to fencing, played Eurorails with Jim and Lisy, and saw a raccoon yesterday. Eurorails, is the only game I know that combines Europe, freight-hauling, and crayons (how else would you lay down track?). I should never have gone to Spain. That was my downfall. But I actually didn't suck too bad my first time.

The raccoon was outside BratMart around 1 AM, by a tree. The raccon and I actually had an interesting moment where it ducked out of site, I looked to where I though it had gone, turned around and saw it about three feet away. Both I and the raccoon simultaneously jumped and took a step backward. And then I took a few more steps back and allowed it to cross the sidewalk and hide in the bushes, and I was on my merry way back to the dorm.

I have songs stuck in my head. The most innocuous is "John Henry Was a Steel Drivin' Man".

Oh, and there's another poem up from a while ago: "Ought to Know Better". Boy howdy.

Okay, remember how I was going to add a link to the Shady Dealer? Done. Thing accomplished. All about the productivity here. Yup. And I also added Roger McGuinn to the "Cool People" list. So... who knows who Roger McGuinn is? Right, leading member of the Byrds, musically about the centerpoint between Bob Dylan and John Lennon. Anyway, I obviously don't know the guy, but his blog is an archive of folk songs he's recorded, and I'm a sucker for free folk music. And he's the source of my latest "depression --> download free music" cycle. So have fun with that, everybody. Roger's voice has deteriorated since the 60's, but a lot of it's pretty good -- even if the earlier entries are occasionally recorded in 24 kbps. I kid you not; Check out "Waltzing Matilda." And now, lyrics from one of my favorites of the evening:

If I had wings like Norah's dove
I'd fly up the river to the one I love
Fare thee well, oh my honey, fare thee well

I remember one night, a drizzling rain
Round my heart I felt a pain
Fare thee well, oh my honey, fare thee well
-"Dink's Song"

oh, what a time to be having fewer emotional outbursts. Not such a good day, this particular day. At other similar points, the word "Fuck" has gotten a lot of usage. Well, I guess the silver lining is that the Yankees lost.

Oh, and, coincidentally, ther were some old poems I've been meaning to post, so they'r up at the poetry archive. If only they weren't topical.

Oh, wow. I'm tired. what a weekend. I'm alive, everybody. Fencing parties, marathons, sketchy printings deals with the devil, and the like. Seriously, need sleep. Hopefully I'll get time to do more detailed event summaries soon. Gotta do something to earn that link. Maybe make a logo. Oh, and there's anothe issue of the shady dealer out. Christ, I don't have a link to that, do I? Better fix that.

I seriously haven't blogged in two weeks. That alarms me. It's been eventful, I assure you. So much so that I really feel like more than two weeks must have passed. Althought hat would make my lag of blogging even more ridiculous.

More eventually. I know better than to say tomorrow, but yeah... poetry even. Peace out, Earth-dwellers.