Tuesday, July 29, 2008

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.

Monday, July 28, 2008

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.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

"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!!

Sunday, July 20, 2008

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???

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Section E: Obituaries and Epitaphs

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

Monday, July 14, 2008

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.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

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.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

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?

Monday, July 7, 2008

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.

Saturday, July 5, 2008

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