Yeah, fuck that guy!

Seeing "Murph"'s copy of The Voice has managed to make me less than eager to be a Carleton alum (seniors 2010 wooh!). Because then I'll be constantly reminded that losers and fuckholes are always the ones congratulated and simply noticed (and how is it a lot of them are in my year? First I have to go to Wofford then I'm stuck with troglodytes like Jim Avery, damn Doritos licker). I mean usually because Jason, you appear in a lot of photos and articles for what seems to be no reason at all except you are Jason Hitchcock, emphasis on the"cock".

How is it being a Carleton alum, my friends? I remain your inside source to all Carleton buzz. I'll keep you updated on Gonzo's unreasonable fame and Tom's lame existence (that guy really sucks, always barging into people's homes and using their things)*. I will make sure that anyone you hate will be watched- in other words I will make sure that, using "Murph"'s words, "mouth breathers" and "milk drinkers" will always remain said breathers and drinkers.

And in the meantime, I hope to see you.

*minus McKay naturally.

Graph of Rambo Kills by Movie

]

New York City is a Fucking Mall

Yay new post! I'm glad to be bringing some much-needed life to this thing, after a few weeks of what I gather has been lethargy due to most of you being too busy sitting on your ass/ checking Craigslist postings for jobs/ masturbating (Abby) during the day to make posts other than chronicling recent "celebrity" on obscure news outlets. Well, Cabal-ers, it's time for change.

I came across this article on AM New York from last year that I really think captures what's been going on in New York in the past few years.

I grew up on 86th Street of Manhattan's Upper West Side, on the 9th floor of an apartment building unique in the neighborhood for a) a lack of a doorman, and b) a manual-door elevator (booyah!). As Tim will willfully note, the Upper West Side has been historically distinguished from its equally affluent, predominantly Jewish counterpart on the East Side for its cultural diversity, comparative laid-backness, and (relative) lack of conspicuous corporate presence. In the 1970's and 80's, during a period of difficult economic times for the city, interesting and cultural places like music stores, movie-theatres, mom-and-pop hardware stores, bakeries, used-book shops, and other locations of "social diversity" dotted the streets of Upper Manhattan. These were family-owned and operated. They gave the neighborhood personality; you recognized the owners, workers, and other patrons. You gathered and made memories there.

Now, walking down Broadway, it's Chase, Starbucks, Duane Reed, Chase, CVS, Starbucks, Barnes and Noble, Starbucks, Duane Reed.

It's not that I disapprove of corporations. Without them, Dan and Pete would be unemployed. Often during my youth I would go to the local Tower Records or B & N to buy books and music, and didn't really mind much. I also understand that it's difficult for small businesses to compete in an environment like New York, where the recent housing boom (unimpeded by the disaster in the rest of the country) has hiked up rents faster than a Oussein Bolt 50. But while the economic boom has been good for the city economically, it has all but destroyed its cultural heritage.

Then:

Now:
This is why I have left New York, honestly. In addition to being fucking expensive, walking down the street is like taking a stroll through the Mall of America. It's bland and uninteresting. Now, as I'm sure Paul will attest, this is not the case throughout the entire city. Places like Brooklyn still have cool stuff, but the trend still remains. NYC is going to corporate hell.

I hope this post will be applicable to those of you currently living in the city or considering moving there. Until something is done about this, I'm content with traveling 15 minutes to Bloomington instead of finding the same thing 1500 miles away in Manhattan.

I, three, am a celebrity.

Just read the first two words of the article. everything else is BORING.

I miss you

Awesome Cabal,

There's not a lot of time, and this isn't funny, but I just wanted to say that I miss you all and send lots of love from Tianjin, China. I went to a club on Saturday night to celebrate my birthday, and the only thing missing was this group. Granted, the hookah was a little crappy and the beer expensive, but it would have been a plus to have you all there.

Again, love!

Although I am not a celebrity, I have been extensively covered by the international press...

...although it wasn't for talking shit about hayden christensen.

CHECK IT.

I, too, am a celebrity

Here.  Pretty awesome.

i am a celebrity

I was on the news at work! oh, update: I have a job.

here

apparently I have a blinking problem. I think I was trying to hold in a yawn.

Black Belt Patriotism

Ganja-cillin?

The benefits just keep on coming.

Jason Crash the Grand Old Part -- Teaser Video

I'll write about this soon, but i'm going out of town. here's a teaser video i made in the GOP Convention YouTube.com booth. enjoy....

RIP Don LaFontaine

Everyone has heard this guy's voice. Any trailer ever. "In a world..." This Duluth, MN native died on Tuesday. RIP.

Spaghetti Cat

Miss Wasilla 1984

R.I.P. Leroi Moore

http://www.cnn.com/2008/SHOWBIZ/Music/08/19/davematthews.band.death/index.html

I'm not one too often for this sort of thing, but every now and then, I suppose when the time is right it is okay. Leroi Moore the saxophone player in the Dave Matthews Band passed away earlier this week and though not all of you are necessarily too into "Dave" I thought I'd post the link in case any of you were curious. I'll never forget the night back in Omaha (or rather in 519 listening to the show that Peter and Marc had gone to in Omaha in December of 04) in the winter of '07. A late evening, as sometimes we were prone to letting our evenings travel in that direction. It may have been halfway between one step or two, but P-olds (bless his heart and curls) and I looked at one another and shared that moment that only Dave fans can share, when you hear a good groove, catch a sweet rhythm, find yourself caught in the nostalgia of summertime, and say, "I like this music. Yes, yes, I like this music." And then you listen on. Chances are pretty good that in the midst of those out-loud (whether spoken or not) declarations and inbetween a Marc diatribe on why tabouli is the best type of salad (because it is) we may well have been fading back and forth between conversation and a Leroi solo, as he played the blaring, yet melodic "bam, (pause), Bam, BAm, BAM" of tripping billies or some other signature note; which having lived an American adolescence which included (though was not limited to) the years 1997-2002, we are likely to never forget. And neither will he be.

This Guy Gives me a Boner

Cooper vs. Lohan

Anderson Cooper finally expressed my own sentiments regarding the Lohan family. While the truly talentless Mom and her two failing starlets certainly have made an impression on my view of celebrity life- that, really, stars are people, too, and face emotionally sincere life obstacles- Cooper couldn't disagree less. I, too, wondered where Lindsay was when I watched the show (once) at M&M's Apartment. Where is that feminine raspy voice?

Oh, right, it's whispering dark, sexy secrets in Ronson's ear. (Lindsay proves that beautiful stars don't always date someone as equally charming. Sorry, Ronson, but it's true.)

In response to Cooper's rumors against the Lohan family, Lindsay firmly responded:

"I'm tired of rumors starting/I'm tired of people lying/Saying what they want about me/Why can't they back up off me/Why can't they let me live/I'm gonna do it my way/Take this for just what it is."

Ah, yes- atrocious.

WILL CHINA FINALLY UPSTAGE THE USA BY FAKING FIREWORK SHOWS AND LIPSYNCHING NATIONAL ANTHEMS AND BY CHEATING WITH INELIGIBLE OVERWORKED OVERSTRESSED UNDERAGE KIDS ON ALL THEIR TEAMS WHO WILL BE FED TO THE PIGS IF THEY LOSE, OR WILL THE USA DEPLOY MICHAEL PHELPS' HALF-ALLIGATOR ASS TO SAVE TEAM USA FROM ITS GREATEST TEST EVER AND BRING HOME THE GOLD X 8 BECAUSE NEITHER THE DIVING NOR GYMNASTICS TEAMS CAN WIN IT IN THE BIGGEST JUICIEST CREAMIEST DISPLAY OF OLYMPIC-STYLE GLORY EVER WHILE WE'RE ALL AT HOME WATCHING MICHAEL PHELPS SIT THROUGH 8 NATIONAL ANTHEMS AND FILM SCENES FOR THE INSPIRATIONAL SPOTS IN THE 2012 OLYMPICS PROMOTIONAL MATERIAL WHICH IS BROUGHT TO YOU BY COKE AND OREO (BOTH OF WHOM PROMOTE CROSS-CULTURAL UNDERSTANDING BETWEEN AMERICANS AND CHINESE PEOPLE) IN ORDER TO SQUASH THE CHINESE IN THIS THE ULTIMATE STRUGGLE IN SUBLIMINAL GEOPOLITICS PRESENTED BY NBC WHO HAS ALL YOUR FAVORITE SHOWS IN THE NEW FALL SEASON OF PROGRAMMING THAT YOU CAN'T AFFORD TO MISS...WATCH AND SEE ALL THE DRAMA UNFOLD!!!

(except for the drama in all other sports besides swimming, diving, beach volleyball and gymnastics. no time to televise those ones.)

R.I.P.

Dalai Lama forced to quit Gymnastics All-Around Competition

Beijing, China,

In a suprising dose of irony at the 29th Olympiad in Beijing, China has forced the Dalai Lama in "exile" once again. Only this time that exile isn't from the Tibetan Autonomous Region, but rather the Olpmyic gymnastics all-around competition, where his holiness was expected to challenge the Chinese gymnastics sensation, Yang "The Micheal Phelps" Wei, for the gold medal.

"It's a shame that we had to bar the Dalai Lama from the all-around competition, but....he was caught blood doping...which is cheating and against all that is Chinese," reported a Communist Party official who is administering the gymnastics program, adding, "it's a shame too, because he is almost godlike on the pommel horse."

"Fuck China," was the only reply that came from the Dalai Lama's special envoy.

Tribute: LOST

There is no question about it: "Lost" fucking rules. I'll admit, I was a skeptic. When Lucy came to me about a year ago and told me about some show that sounded like a cross between "Alias" and "Gilligan's Island", sure, I thought it sounded stupid and once again derided myself for listening to Lucy.

But, thanks to Netflix and a general lack of available activities during the day, I've discovered "Lost."

I'll admit that when all is said and done, it's your typical ABC drama. There's tons of stupid TV cliches, "leave-you-hanging" moments right before commercials that turn out not to be that important, and requisite hotties (I'm not complaining).

Bottom Line: It's a great show. Entertaining and leaves you wanting more. A note: if anyone has watched beyond episode 8 of Season 1, say nothing to me about this. I still don't know what these creatures on the island are, or what the deal is with these "Others." So thanks.

ESU Vacation Properties, Profile no. 1

The inaugural ESU summer reunion is less than a year away, and in order to make this event everything we've dreamed of and more, we need to start thinking about the ideal location and the appropriate accommodations that will play host to this illustrious occasion. Indeed, many of us have participated in discussions over the past two years pertaining to this very thing, which has mostly resulted in inconclusive speculation over the particulars, e.g., do we aim for the island in Maine with a custom-built log hunting lodge and marina, or do we settle for the slope-side mansion in Aspen?

These are all questions we will answer in due time, but for now, consider this little gem I happened upon this afternoon in the NYT. It's charming, spacious, comes with a built-in beirut/pong room (complete with overstocked rack of classic pong paddles...and beautiful ocean views), a 14-person dining room table perfect for oversize games of tippy cup (that, again, take place with beautiful ocean views), a roof to piss/boot off of (and an ocean to piss/boot in), and a second-to-none location, right smack dab in the middle of Narragansett Bay. So, not only would this house serve the immediate purpose of playing classy host to drinking and reuniting festivities, but it would also make us the focal point of the ritziest, gaudiest hamlet in all of New England: Newport, RI.

So...something to consider. I know it's not as exuberant as other previously desired alternatives, but the fab and glam of pure luxury will come as we fatten in age and assets. For now though, this "modest" house would definitely fall within the renting power of the 15-20 blossoming professionals we have assembled in this fine cabal. Maybe some day we can even buy this place and use it as an equitable building block for the Maine hunting lodge of our imaginations. It is a buyer's market, friends, it is a buyer's market.

To close, I want to note that this post was not made to appease Max. I've been thinking of posting this ever since I saw it this afternoon, and had to wait until I got home from work to do it. Max, I hope you continue to writhe in the pains of postlessness.

Luck Be A Lady

Here's to Abby. Look at her. She's bright, beautiful, and honestly, she's a lot nicer than people say.

She's also the only one keeping this god damn thing going.

'there's a reason you've never heard of bus rage!'

horrible irony

the secret lives of the awesome cabal

I realize that this is completely old news, but nonetheless I read it and stopped googling rhinoplasties and how to buy adderall from mexico. just kidding... but I wonder who among us would have the most incriminating search history? i vote max.

Tribute: Rick Sanchez

His name: Rick Sanchez. His game: "on the ground" reporting. Much of this post is dedicated to the fact that at the moment, and for the last month, I've had seven channels in my apartment, one of them being CNN. Currently, I can map out Anderson Cooper's silver hair patterns better than the back of my hand. But Anderson Cooper, as dreamy and lugubrious as he may be, holds no candle to this guy, born Ricardo Sanchez in Cuba.

Using the most reliable source on the internet, I scoured Wikipedia for all information on this great man. How did I get interested in him in the first place, you might ask? Well, it all stemmed from a video I caught a few months back, made famous by TDS and Colbert, but stunning and horrific simultaneously nonetheless. While the actual video file seems to have been removed, I've found the key screenshot:




That's the man actually getting tasered. Those are real shrieks of pain. That's right, he's a man.

Did you know that Rick Sanchez killed a man? According to Truthipedia, Rick Sanchez was driving home after a Dolphins game with his Dad when a man jumped in front of his car, was paralyzed, and later died from his injuries. You might say, "Well, no fault of Rick's." Ha. He would have been totally unculpable, if not for the fact that he was drunk at the time.

Usually, you find alpha-anchors like Sanchez on Fox News. But this is CNN's elephant in the rough, and I just love the guy. He makes Anderson Cooper look like a whiny bitch, which is not hard, but he does it anyway.

So, am I the only fucking person who reads this blog? Let's go guys.

"Death Unknown." Really?

DETROIT LAKES, MN-

INFORUM Magazine reports that a girl died Friday at her campsite near the the annual Minnesota 10,000 Lakes Festival. This is the second death in as many years at the popular jam band festival. While an autopsy is pending, the cause of death is UNKNOWN.

Unknown? Hmmm. A girl at the 10,000 Lakes Festival just suddenly up and dies. For the second time. I will readily admit that there may be a variety of reasons, not relating to music festivals, that the girl died. However, the circumstances of her death, her general location and the events surrounding, leads me to believe that the underlying cause may be recreational. We've all attended our share of music festivals, and are therefore aware that these shindigs aren't exactly the poster-children for sober living.

Bros Marc Monbo, Timothy G. and myself attended said festival in the summer of 2006. Needless to say, we bro-ed out. I can still remember timidly yet joyfully wading in the waters of the lake adjacent to our campsite, passing by revelers partaking in maritime bowls, enjoying the sunlight with enthused chants of "UNITY!" and "10K!" Ah, college.

I recall not being particularly concerned with death on this journey. Unlike Bonnaroo, the 10KLF is known for its low-key, relatively less-populated scene. Here one does not find the 100,000 strong, the sardine-like camping conditions, nor Shakedown Street, complete with the now-infamous chants of "Mali," "Ice", "Arsenic", and other delicacies. Here midwesterners generally come to chill out and listen to great music. There is not, however, a dearth of substances and their ominpresent companion, stupidity.

When you read this story, friends, you all will assuredly begin to speculate about what actually took this poor girl's life. While maintaining our firebrand of tasteless humor at others' expense, I proudly present my own particular suspicions about what brought down little Sally String Cheese:

1. Drugs.


I begin of course with the obvious, and certainly first thing to pop into all of your minds. At the very least, Marc, Tim and I know first-hand the cornucopia of illicit products in which one may partake at the festival. No different from any other, only a few inquiries can yield one hours upon hours of drugs. Lucky for us, all we had on hand were herbs and fungus. Yet who could forget that fine middle-aged gentleman, raggedy shirt and torn jean-shorts, who approached Marc and me with outstretched finger, uttering the simple phrase, "I'm gonna put a dose...on your finger...and it will take you....whoooooo!" I'll never forget him. He marks the quintessence of "the culture:" drugs around every turn, all kinds, all forms, all for the taking. As we've much noted, it's a foregone attempt by these folks to re-incarnate the "good times" of the music era: the Dead, the '60's, experimentation, "counter-culture." Sigh. Yet the fact remains that these people exist, and make up a huge segment of these festivals.

What with the incredible accessibility of said substances, I can only imagine what an individual can dive into on his or her own. In this case, I don't think Sally OD'ed on joints and shrooms (although it may have started out that way), so I'll go ahead and suppose it started with a couple doses, tequila, maybe some MDMA, and perhaps even a speedball or two. Think I'm exaggerating? Go to a festival. Once.

2. Overheating. There's no question the heat of the Minnesota sun can be brutal at times. But there's nothing worse than waking up at approximately 11:15AM, with the sun beating down on your car or tent which has inevitably become a veritable man-greenhouse, your balls feeling like two falafels just out of the fryer, having gone to bed at 4am and coming down off of said drugs. For many, this may even become a dangerous situation, if proper ventilation is not achieved. I might even suppose little Sally forgot to open the doors of her '87 Bonneville, couldn't wake-up from post-party stupor, and suffocated. Fuckin' idiot.

3.

DUUUDE!! TREY!

To be sure, there is no lack of enthusiasm at your music festival. Prominent names always headline, and excitement is through the roof. I wouldn't be shocked if our darling Sally, complete with the full Phish box-set, String Cheese bumper stickers, Phil Lesh tatoo, and Jerry skull-cap got one look at Trey when he got on stage and had a fatal brain aneurism. Why not?

Or may she just took too many drugs.

R.I.P., Sally String Cheese.

Bonnaroo!!

Peter's Video

Domino's Scientists Test Limits Of What Humans Will Eat

Jason Hitchcock is "That Guy"

i dugg this photo up today. I'm either ruining a beautiful candid moment, or making a boring candid moment more tolerable to look at. you be the judge.

jason --- i know you love hannah montana, but really???

DANCE BREAK!

Section E: Obituaries and Epitaphs

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

The New Yorker

I'd give Tim's dad a call about this.

Sam Whittemore: Man Among Men

This post is dedicated to our good friend and patriot, Sam, who, two hundred and thirty-three years ago, nearly gave his life so that we could have our freedom.

Lesson Learned

Few things instill more caution than watching a person get hit by a car.  Bardes, Dan, my youngest brother and I can attest to this, now that we've actually seen it happen.  It was July Fourth Eve and we were standing at the intersection of Avenue A and St. Mark's Place - a corner once fabled for its punk heritage, now notable only for this amazing article that came out in New York magazine a couple of weeks back - when suddenly we heard some gasps and watched a jaywalker get smacked by a minivan.

It all happened so fast.  And yet, the whole thing played through my mind in slow motion for days afterward - the glasses flying off the kid's face; the moans of pain that immediately followed as he slowly unfolded his torqued body; the firemen who rushed to the scene at once, their proximity a lucky coincidence; the van's occupants standing on the street, a whole family thrust into an unforeseeable mess through no fault of their own - and it's instilled in me a sense of caution that I doubt I possessed beforehand.

I think the guy was okay.  He was basically our age, dressed in standard hipster attire and no doubt moving from one fun nightspot to another.  His fourth of July was surely ruined.  Be careful when you cross the street, yeah?

When a Game Show Destroys Your Life

Maybe some of you have seen this show on FOX, "Moment of Truth." The show format is quite simple: the host asks a contestant a series of 21 questions, with each correct answer yielding more prize money, up until $1 million. The best part, of course, is that all the questions are personal. They usually involve family members and significant others, all of whom are, of course, present at the time of questioning.

I saw this show for the first time last night, and I found it to be one of the more shocking programming I've seen (on FOX, which says something.) Last night, the woman contestant was asked the following questions, with her boyfriend sitting right across from her:

"Do you ever wish your boyfriend was more well-endowed?"

"Have you ever thought that you deserve someone more attractive than your boyfriend?"

"Have you ever cheated on your boyfriend?"

Now, she had to answer these questions "truthfully." I found out (only via wikipedia) that contestants are asked more than 60 questions beforehand while attached to a polygraph, their answers and "truth-telling" are recorded, then the juiciest ones are asked again live on national TV.

I think the best part of the show was the fact that segments were intercut with "updates" of previous contestants. They would flashback to previous contestants revealing horrible truths and winning money, then telling us the consequences. For example:

" (Voiceover) Last Tuesday, Jimmy from Queens told us that he once falsified a report as a licensed EMT, and that he's cheated on his girlfriend, Tina, more than once. He won $100,000 dollars. Unfortunately, he is no longer together with Tina, and is currently serving five years in jail for the wrongful death of three patients."

Can you believe this? Basically, it's a show whose goal is to ruin your life?



I imagined that our own Dan would be phenomenal on this show, regardless of whether he was married or had a good job. For $500,000, do you really think Dan would hold back? I doubt he would hold back for a joint.

"Dan, have you ever cheated on your wife?"

"Fuck yeah. You haven't? Don't lie....dude...don't fucking lie you bitch!"

"Dan, have you ever defrauded investors out of millions of dollars?"

"Of course. That's my fucking job. I make more money than you, asshole. Plus I'm fucking your wife."

So, everyone watch "Moment of Truth" Tuesdays on FOX for a great time. Also, let's get around to posting, guys. This is not the "Jonah and Max" blog.

Is He A Bro?

Rafael Nadal. A.K.A. "Rafa." Hell of a tennis player, there is no doubt. Did anyone see this match with Federer on Sunday? 4 1/2 hours, two rain delays, five sets, probably one of the greatest matches of all time. Nadal beat the World's No. 1, who by the way hadn't lost at Wimbledon since 2002. He's 22 years old, a Spaniard from the small island of Majorica in the Mediterreanean. He's bangin' a hot bitch.

But the question remains: Would you hang out with Rafael Nadal? Take a look at this guy's outfit. Let's be honest: he's a little bit of a Nancy. Not that I wouldn't hang out with a Nancy: after all I am friends with Jason. But sometimes I feel that if I walked into a bar with Rafa, all decked out in pirate pants and wild hair falling over pastel-colored hairband, perhaps I'd at the very least feel a bit odd.

So I ask you all: would you have an MSR with this guy?

Roots of Unity

Max, why are we abandoning the old blog? Oh well. Anyway, I'll bite and make the first real post.

I was doing some mild Googling yesterday, the contents of which will be apparent in a minute, when I found this blog post by a prospective parent who had been visiting colleges with his daughter, discussing a particular student-directed admissions video he'd seen at one event hosted by an unnamed college. David writes:

The other thing that struck me in the movie was not, I think, intended by its producers. One of the students, explaining how wonderful the school was, described it as undefinable--"like the square root of two."

The square root of two is quite easily defined--it is that number that, multiplied by itself, equals two. The correct term is "irrational," but I don't think that's how he wanted to describe his college. The actual information conveyed by that segment was that at least one student at that college was both mathematically illiterate and mathematically pretentious, and that nobody making the movie knew enough elementary mathematics, or was paying enough attention, to do a retake with the error corrected. I don't think that was the message that the school intended to give to potential students and their parents.

Heh. The video is, of course, this one, and the student is our own Mr. Potter, 55 seconds into the thing.

Putting aside Mr. Friedman's own confusion--the definition he offers is not properly a "definition," since two real numbers meet that criterion--let's focus on the humor for a bit. Though I never discussed the comment with Jerome, I'll assume it was in jest; he held a respectable 89% homework average (yeah, I keep track) in Calc 2 months before the video was filmed, and I assume that an ability to perform trigonometric substitution on integrals like, say, dx/sqrt(9-x^2) belies an understanding of how square roots work, even on non-perfect squares.

But to Mr. Friedman, and the dozen or so commenters on that particular blog entry, this humor isn't just lost; it's outright denied. Of course nobody on that blog knows Jerome, so we shouldn't expect them to know that he's kidding as well. But I think if you showed this video to the average college student at a liberal arts school, they'd recognize that the guy is being facetious. This didn't even occur as a possibility to any of the posters in the ensuing discussion. (In fact, a few rushed to Jerome's defense, getting into a very philosophical--and very incorrect--debate over what "undefinable" means.)

What's up with that? I'm not professing ignorance about the "generation gap," nor am I suggesting that the irony-laden ("laden" might not be strong enough a word for ESU) humor in which we've been steeped is somehow universal. But after the Carl debate on the parents' email list blew up last month, I've been looking into the way that our generation's humor is perceived by the adult world, and I still keep being surprised by the disconnect. It'll be interesting adjusting to this as we start to live our lives among people who, generally, aren't going to laugh at the same things we do anymore. Let's keep this blog around.

AWESOME CABAL RETURNS!!

Bros,

It's official. We don't go to "college" anymore. But does that make us cease to be bros? Never! The Awesome Cabal returns and I hope you'll all be a part of it. Let's be honest here- we have nothing else to do with ourselves now.

There was a time that Awesome Cabal was the talk of the Internets. Let's make it happen.

Bros!

-Max