I hope every last one of you motherfuckers dies. Replace leaf with my face:



Patriotism Indulgence and the Subsequent Hangover

Yesterday was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.

But then today I log into Facebook and see some weird shit:

1) People getting pissy at others who posted so-called “anti-American” sentiments on the Fourth of July. My thoughts:

If Nazis have the right to march (peacefully) through little Jewish towns filled with Holocaust survivors, then you bet your American ass you have the right to bitch about the United States on any day of the year- including Independence Day- should you desire to. It doesn’t harm anyone, so it cannot be intrinsically wrong.

I don’t understand why this idea bothers so many people. You don’t have to like an opinion which differs from your own, but you can show some respect and practice tolerance and understanding.

I think my main problem is why it is so important to so many people whether or not someone likes the old US of A. Frankly, I can’t seem to give a shit even if I try. The impact that someone’s differing opinion has on my life is infinitesimal.

My other problem is that the people who are condemning this criticism of the United States are not simply disagreeing with the opinion. They are trying to assert that the mere HAVING of the opinion is wrong. So it’s not “I think you are wrong being of X, Y and Z.” That would be acceptable to me. Rather, it’s “You should not have that opinion, because it is wrong to have an opinion which is not X.” That’s a little screwed.

Anyway, my goal in writing this is just to point out that an analytical approach to these sorts of topics is far more useful than an emotional one. There’s no use getting upset about any of it.

2) “Happy 4th everyone. I love this country and what it stands for and the freedom we have and whether anyone likes it or not the reality is our country was founded on God and His Word!”

This is just straight-up not factual. My mind is boggled.

Normally I wouldn’t bother getting into politics, but I guess with me being abroad, it comes up a lot.

Anyway, here’s a picture of me holding an apple pie I made.

And here’s a close-up of what is written on my arms. It helps when most people around you don’t speak that much English.

It’s Not Time-Wasting; It’s Learning

So, I just re-downloaded my favorite N64 emulator, Project 64 and loaded up all my old games which currently sit, in cartridge-form, 3,760 miles away on another continent. Gosh, the Internet is neat. The super neat part is that I was able to download multilingual versions, so I can play them in German. I am now officially immune from criticism.

Zelda in German

Turns out you can also buy a device that plugs into your computer, into which you can plug your N64 controller. This may be an option in the future for when I feel the urge to indulge, but want to spare my old equipment the wear and tear.

Nifty, nifty nifty.

In other news, I’m getting tired of this country. I’m just going to classes and trying to keep myself properly fed, which is a struggle. I miss fresh fruit. Big, juicy strawberries. Cherries. Cantaloupe. Honeydew. Watermelon. Mostly melons. Vegetables. Green beans. Black beans. Steak. Ground beef. Eggs which aren’t radioactive. Gallons of pasteurized milk. Royal Red Robin burgers. Cheddar cheese. Double-stuffed Oreos. Yerba maté.

I’m anxious to do stuff in America again.

A Guide to Being Emotionally Prepared for Quirks, Oddities and Unpleasant Things Found in Germany

The following is an essay I wrote so that Regine doesn’t take away my scholarship money. If you are going to Germany, you may find it helpful, and if you are already in Germany, you may find it incredibly silly. The WordPress formatting is being fucking stupid, and I don’t feel like fixing it up, so you’ll just have to deal with not having breaks in between every paragraph. Anyway…

Read more of this post

The Titty Sea and Other Fun Photos

Monday was a holiday. Don’t ask me what it was about- it was some Catholic nonsense. Therefore, since fuck-all could be accomplished in Freiburg, Catherine, her boyfriend Jon, and I took a trip down to Titisee (pronounced TEE-tee-zay).

I’ve been to Titisee a few times before, but each time it was bitterly cold and mostly no fun. This time I didn’t actually want to go, but I figured I should use the opportunity to take some pictures for you vult- er, lovely folks. In true karmic fashion, once having let go of the intention to have a good time, I actually had a good time. Best Titisee visit so far.

List of Good Stuff

1. The weather was GORGEOUS. It was nice to be exposed to the sun for a little bit.
2. Awesome Chinese food. No, seriously, I had good Chinese food there. Don’t judge me, I’m sick of schnitzel. I just wanted to dip my face in a bowl of rice.
3. Best pretzel I’ve ever had.
4. Best sausage I’ve ever had.

I also found a giant American flag in Titisee, which aroused in me strange feelings of patriotism. I bought it and hung it up.

I hate that flag-waving, I-love-America-more-than-you-do bullshit at home. Displaying a flag doesn’t mean anything in America. Most Americans don’t know anything outside of the United States, so a flag serves no purpose beyond trying to impress upon your neighbors just how “patriotic” you are. I find that shallow and worthless. I don’t think you can really love your country if you’ve never missed it.

Anyway, I was trying to upload all my photos of Titisee, my bedroom here in the StuSie, and Freiburg to Photobucket, and this was the result:

Therefore, I decided to make web albums on Picasa. The links are below. Please let me know if you have any difficulty viewing them, and beware of sneaky captions underneath some of the images.

The Coolest Thing I’ve Ever Purchased

So, I was browsing around on Amazon looking for a book. I’ve been watching a lot of Monty Python lately, and while doing that, I was particularly amused by one character called “The Constable,” so I decided to doodle a picture in my sketchbook. Also during this time, I decided I should learn all of the Pythons’ names for easy future reference. In this process I discovered that Graham Chapman, the fella who plays the Constable character (as well as The Colonel, King Arthur, and Brian) was actually a super interesting human being. Therefore, I decided to read his autobiography.

[Interesting things about this guy, for those interested: He of course wrote and acted in Monty Python stuff, but he started off as a medical student, and was a licensed doctor. He was a raging alcoholic until the mid-70’s, when he quit almost cold-turkey. He climbed mountains, and was one of the first celebrities to publicly announce that he was a homosexual, which he did in the 70’s. The following is a relevant interview with Merv Griffin from 1980:

Anyway, at this point I’m dicking around on Amazon looking for this book. I notice three things: 1) It is not currently in print, and a lot of the copies on Amazon are prohibitively expensive [one was over $100], 2) It is expensive to ship things from the US of A, and 3) I forget. From there I went to ebay and found a better deal. Then I found another copy that was a dollar cheaper. Then I found another one that was fifty cents cheaper.

Then, I followed a link to ebay.co.uk. As I was converting the price from pounds into dollars, my brain said “Just get the first one. It’s not worth all this effort.” Addition, as many of you know, is serious heavy-lifting for me when it comes to mathematics. Anyway, I ignored it and converted the price. It was still 50 cents cheaper. I bought it. The total came out to about 14 bucks.

When I found the package in my mailbox yesterday, I took it with me on my way to class. I tore that bitch open while waiting for the tram, and started to thumb through it. I was disappointed to learn that this was a first edition from 1980. I mean, first editions are cool, but I was hoping to get the re-print with the foreword from Eric Idle. Oh well. I started reading it; it was good.

Later, I was sitting in the classroom, reading, when my friend came in and started talking to me. I idly began to flip the pages around when I noticed an inscription on the title page. I thought “Cool, I like books with history” but I didn’t actually read it. Then she pointed out that the message was signed “Graham.”

Graham Chapman wrote a motherfucking inscription in this book.

It reads:

From a Northumberland hiker who once called in for tea. – Graham

Here’s a picture.

There’s also a sticker on the inside cover which reads:

presented to
King Edward VI School
Mrs. J. B. Priestley
in memory
of her husband
March 1986

So, I did some research. Graham was an avid climber. J. B. Priestley was an English playwright. I found a quote online where Priestley made a reference to mountaineering. I then found a chapter of the book which describes how Graham “rang him [Priestley] up for tea” and visited him along with John Cleese and a couple others.

It seems to me that he wrote that inscription for Priestley, who kept the book in his library for 6 years until his death in 1986, at which point his wife donated it to the King Edward VI School in Stratford-upon-Avon. At some point between 1986 and 2010, it wound up at some bookstore in London, where an inattentive employee failed to notice the inscription, and sold it to me, via ebay, for about 10 dollars.

My final piece of evidence is this. On the left side is his signature from the book’s inscription. On the right, his proper autograph.

Pretty cool.

An Item From Fantasyland

The e-mail I want to write right now, in the language I would like to write it.

Liebe Frau Zink,

Your class is fucking boring as fuck. I don’t care about the fucking painter from WWII, I don’t care about the fucking walls that used to exist around the city, I don’t care about the fucking Bächle (as far as I’m concerned, they’re only good for breaking ankles), and I most of all don’t care about that cunting church. The only reason I signed up for this class was to hear a good story, but so far all I’ve heard about is that preachy Jewish lich. Speaking of speaking, you talk way too fucking much, and it’s a painful chore listening to you jaw on and on and on.

Fuck off and die,

And here’s a quote I like from a comedian:

Our exams were open to public scrutiny, they were rigorous and cruelly fair.  If you got laughs you passed – if not you failed. Compared to these, the university exams were about as reliable a guide to a student’s ability as the width of his mother’s kneecaps, and I treated them with the nonchalance they deserved.