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[oball]

That depends.  Does he just keep them in a folder on his C drive, or has he printed them out and constructed a shrine?

[wombat]

But isn't a folder on your C drive the new bedroom shrine?  All having a slideshow of the pictures as a screensaver...

[jaydub]

Oddly, I find my mental image of Onstad pretty well matches reality.  That happens so rarely. I'm usually very bad at inferring someone's appearance from their written work.

[theinevitable]

For some reason I now think of him as looking like Orson Welles, even though he doesn't. And so now I'm thinking... he looks like Q.

[jough]

They were on plagiarist for years - I just moved them over to TOUAMB.

That's the thing about posting stuff on the internet - it never really goes away.

[colmore]

I had a running coach in highschool whose initials were P.E.E. and that's what it said on his water bottle.  That was damn funny.  In high school.

Yeah, I'm 25 and live in lazyfuckrocknrolltown, Georgia, which isn't all that different from NoCal aside from being a bit dirtier, poorer, and drunker (replace talking about the internet, stoned with talking about bands that will never go anywhere, wasted, and you're there) and O looks a lot like my older friends here.  A good sign.  There's nothing more easily satisfying than the slow sizzle of a really quick mind, well educated, being put out to pasture well before its prime.  I'll gladly sacrifice the world's achievements for more languid prose, open source software, gaping beautiful jokes, underground cartoons, failed artists, and land collectives.  I think we van-dwelling types are getting bumped and nudged into tinier and tinier corners of the country, and eventually we're going to fall off, to Canada, to Eastern Europe, to some other first world in exile, or for those with paradoxical guts, the vast still living culture of South America.  It's a weird time to be alive.  I think we're in the preamble to something really really interesting.  The Nineteen-teens to somebody's Roaring Twenties.

Let's misspend our talents, bounce paychecks and fuck off, make sure we're unnatached when the next weird thing comes, maybe even help nudge the next weird thing into existence, it's a lot more interesting in the long run.  The real world has more than enough axe grinders.

And I need to sleep.

[theinevitable]

went to graduation to see my friends graduate. A whole room full of kids basically put on track to become nice little businessmen and homemakers. Maybe a couple will be english majors and get shitty jobs, just to make it more diverse. They will live in houses on Queens Rd or Myers Park, where all the really nice old houses are. They will drive Mercedes or BMW. Their kids will go to the same high-school, or its equivalent wherever they move. They are Southern with a capital S, well-educated, and affluent. They are heading off to schools like Sewanee, Duke, Georgia, and UNC. The real smart ones are heading to the Ivy Leagues, or to UVA or UNC or somesuch with a nice scholarship.

I want that. As much as I spend my time pretending I'm not like everyone else ever to graduate from that goddamn school, I love the fuck out of it. I love the fact that I couldn't stand the kids there half the time, but really they were all reasonably good people. I love the fake politeness. I love the endless legions of gorgeous blonde girls in cute polos and skirts. I love the dads who either work at Wachovia, work at Bank of America, or are lawyers/doctors. I want to be them. Why? I want to be a fuck*ng rat in the rat race. I want my kids to have southern accents, and I want to have a son with a "III" after his name (even though this couldn't happen, as there isn't a II).

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME? I spent all of high-school saying I would never be like them. now, I'm still not, but I want to be. My parents would most likely be really relieved, but really disappointed at the same time. I am bitter about my lack of cynicality when appraising this lifestyle.

(this is in response to colmore I guess. My gut urges are all in the opposite direction from his... even though my intellect whole-heartedly embraces smashing the status quo and all that jazz. Including Jazz.)

[linnea]

went to graduation to see my friends graduate. A whole room full of kids basically put on track to become nice little businessmen and homemakers. Maybe a couple will be english majors and get shitty jobs, just to make it more diverse. They will live in houses on Queens Rd or Myers Park, where all the really nice old houses are. They will drive Mercedes or BMW. Their kids will go to the same high-school, or its equivalent wherever they move. They are Southern with a capital S, well-educated, and affluent. They are heading off to schools like Sewanee, Duke, Georgia, and UNC. The real smart ones are heading to the Ivy Leagues, or to UVA or UNC or somesuch with a nice scholarship.

I want that. As much as I spend my time pretending I'm not like everyone else ever to graduate from that goddamn school, I love the fuck out of it. I love the fact that I couldn't stand the kids there half the time, but really they were all reasonably good people. I love the fake politeness. I love the endless legions of gorgeous blonde girls in cute polos and skirts. I love the dads who either work at Wachovia, work at Bank of America, or are lawyers/doctors. I want to be them. Why? I want to be a fuck*ng rat in the rat race. I want my kids to have southern accents, and I want to have a son with a "III" after his name (even though this couldn't happen, as there isn't a II).

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME? I spent all of high-school saying I would never be like them. now, I'm still not, but I want to be. My parents would most likely be really relieved, but really disappointed at the same time. I am bitter about my lack of cynicality when appraising this lifestyle.

(this is in response to colmore I guess. My gut urges are all in the opposite direction from his... even though my intellect whole-heartedly embraces smashing the status quo and all that jazz. Including Jazz.)

I remember a quote that said something about... "if you're not anti-establishment when you're young, you've got no heart. If you haven't grown up and become the establishment, well, you've got no brain."

My pissed-off rudegrrrrl 15-year-old self would kick my ass if she could see me now. She would think that I sold out. And indeed I have, and I have a great life with insanely great medical benefits and two adorable fuzzy Scottish Folds.

Like everyone, I'd like to be wealthy someday...of course, I may not tithe to the church but I am 100% down with giving money to kickass progressive organizations with pissed-off young activists who can afford to spend their time fighting for what's right because codgers like me help bankroll them. It's my compromise of having a shitty day job with excellent benefits and a regular paycheck, while still supporting progressive leftist causes. I'm still a riot grrrl underneath my complacent fluffiness, comfy jeans, sweater, and hiking boots.   

[KeithHernandez]

I always thought it was winston Churchill and that the quote was "if you aren't a liberal at 20 you have no heart, if your not a conservative at 50 you have no brain", but, it turns out, (based on Wikipedia) that "this quote was first uttered by mid-nineteenth century historian and statesman François Guizot when he observed, Not to be a republican at 20 is proof of want of heart; to be one at 30 is proof of want of head. This quote has been attributed variously to George Bernard Shaw, Benjamin Disraeli, Otto von Bismarck, and others."

I haven't sold out yet, but I can sort of understand what inev is talking about, only not really.  When it comes down to it, I want to be comfortable, right?  I don't know, and I haven't changed yet, but I probably will.  I think it is way too late for me to see the world like those folks, though.

And, since it is of minor relevance, my favorite Churchill anecdote is this: (and thanks to Wikipedia I find this isn't his either)


    * Churchill: Madam, would you sleep with me for five million pounds?
      Socialite: My goodness, Mr. Churchill... Well, I suppose... we would have to discuss terms, of course...
      Churchill: Would you sleep with me for five pounds?
      Socialite: Mr. Churchill, what kind of woman do you think I am?!
      Churchill: Madam, we've already established that. Now we are haggling about the price.

(This is a very old joke where the partici****** vary dramatically from each telling. It's very unlikely though not impossible that the joke originated from Churchill. (This joke came from George Bernard Shaw, not Churchill))

[theinevitable]

so. I realize after further thought that I would be pretty disgusted with myself if I did that stuff. Really, I only feel that way in certain situations... mostly involving a certain group of friends who are destined to become their parents.
Also relevant: it took a kid I hate getting a "headmaster's award" for basically being awesome to remind me... that that school is often pretty hypocritical and fake. At least, the administration.
that school is built on the back of shit like... not letting my friend walk at graduation because he hadn't shaved in a week (we had a week off from school before graduation) and it was against school rules to have facial hair. They told him to shave it, and he said "no."
Then he immediately ran, got in his car, and drove to Eckerd's to get a razor and shave. apparently he didn't make it back in time.

(to clarify, this kid had a history of fuck*ng with them. he probably shouldn't have graduated based on how many days he skipped, and, lemme tell you... nobody skipped at that school.)

so yeah, crisis averted. I'm not going to start wearing polos with madras anytime soon.

[Nabubrush]

I'd like to just get in here and say fuck a bunch of that shit. Jesus, did you see how far he cleared that shark by?

[wombat]

OK, today, to my horror, Ass-bar was actually worth reading. Someone linked to a couple of blog posts about a SF restaurant that once had a real, famously rude waiter called Edsel Ford Wong, brother of Henry Ford Wong.

I am not sure if I am pleased or disappointed to learn that there was a real-life counterpart, but, you know, education.

Also, I seem to recall that yesterday there was a link to a funny photograph.

The foundation of my world is quaking, people!

[Nabubrush]

Wombles, you will be fine if you never read the ass again. I never have, and I never will.

[jough]

I've never read the Ass, because it requires you to register and log in, and someone already took the name I'd use.

Ah well.

[Golfhaus]

I've never read the Ass, because it requires you to register and log in, and someone already took the name I'd use.

I'll bet Onstad did it.