Mexican Pirate Booze Cruises.

This post is unbelievably delayed, but not posting it at all would be a travesty to anyone who reads this blog. 

The following is a stream-of-consciousness re-telling of my thoughts while sailing on a pirate-themed booze cruise in the Gulf of Mexico during my recent spring break trip to Cancun, Mexico. That long sentence should provide enough expository information for anyone to enjoy this post. 

***

7:30 p.m.

-Charging people $70/person for an all-you-can-drink pirate-themed booze cruise and steak dinner is the smartest pirate economic decision since Disney decided to throw Jerry Bruckheimer another bone to make Jack Sparrow look like Keith Richards.

7:47 p.m.

-This cruise seems like it'd be a really shitty Jimmy Buffett B-side.

8:15 p.m.

-Officially on the boat. The guy sitting next to me looks like he could be Kurt Russell's stunt double from "Captain Ron."

8:30 p.m.

-I see every character from the "Pirates of the Caribbean" on this cruise. Do you think this cruise has been officially licensed by Disney? If it hasn't, how "pirate" is it that this cruise operates without Disney's consent? Now that's a cruise that sticks to its theme.

8:44 p.m. 

-I can't tell if the people working actually vehemently hate the job or not. I'm mixed lives. FTL (fuck their lives).

8:55 p.m.

-This cruise is gay. Like, G-A-Y. "Mamma Mia!" gay. We just went from our captain who looks like a Mexican John Waters singing Prince to having the entire ship line dance to Rick Astley. 

9:00 p.m.

-Can I kick it?

9:13 p.m.

-Had we lost the Mexican-American War, would Mexico be considered a world-economic power due to its holding of more land and resources? or would it continue to struggle due to internal corruption?

9:15 p.m.

-I just mixed tequilla and Corona Extra with lime. I don't think my drink could be more Mexican if I gave it a sombrero and paid it to re-shingle my roof.

9:36 p.m.

-The group of "lads" sitting adjacent to me prove it is actually possible to be English and guido. The "tool" must know no cultural aesthetics.

9:39 p.m.

-If possible to measure, what makes Radiohead's music greater: the song compositions or Thom Yorke's lyrics? Were the electronic-inspired albums of Kid A and Amnesiac revolutionary or wastes of time compared to the more radio-friendly albums of Pablo Honey, The Bends, and OK Computer?

9:41 p.m.

-F.Y.I., the food is great. FML.

9:55 p.m.

-These English guys are really creeping the hell out of me. Dudes in south Jersey have nothing on these mates. Let me ask you this: are cargo man-pries, spiked hair, and spray tans acceptable on a man anywhere?

10:21 p.m.

-The highlight of my night had to be the oblivious Chinese man dancing to "Thriller." No, highlight of my year thus far.

Steinbeck and Three Fountain Green.

   It's funny how literature pops up oddly in our everyday lives. It really is. Those books that our English teachers force down into our stomachs during high school actually do have resonance outside of those jail-cell walls.

   

   This past summer I read John Steinbeck's "East of Eden" and enjoyed the hell out of that book. The story and the characters in that book are sublime--American Lit gems that only Mr. Steinbeck could concoct. And I find it funny that in the past six months, my life has played almost exactly out to the plot of "East of Eden" as if Athens were early-20th century Salinas, California.

   

   It's hard to believe that such characters depicted in novels--especially "East of Eden"--can exist. They're imaginary, right? They exist only in the context of our minds and allegories. 

   

   But if you take the time to think about it, these characters aren't merely symbols: they're people we've come to know in real life. 

   

   It's also funny to find yourself playing the victim in this case (shit, in your own story).

   

   So maybe I need to find my own Adam Trask-style catharsis. But maybe in reading "East of Eden" I suddenly know what I've needed to do all along about Kate. 

   

   Thanks for that, John. 

   -Also, for those of you who haven't checked Speakeasy's review of my fellow dorm mates's band, Three Fountain Green, please read the story:  http://www.speakeasymag.com/entertainment/music/2009/mar/11/three-fountain-green-combines-passion-music-unique/.

   Great article about a great up-and-coming Athens band. Much love, 3FG.

Trees.

I think that people make up some of the most bullshit allegories when it comes to interpreting life. Who in the hell needs so many ways to decipher what's real in life and what isn't? Do we need so much Dr. Phil garbage stuffed down our throats on a daily basis?

As trite as it is, such allegories define us. There's never a simple way to understand our surroundings and there's never a clear-cut way to make meaning out of life's hurdles. It's human nature to create these symbols (thanks, Stan). We love, we hate, we lust, and we yearn for what we have and don't have. It's simply human--as hypocritical as I sound.

Looking out the front porch of Washington Hall, a cluster of beautiful, morose trees dot and litter East Green. Sitting on this front porch, i have noticed that these trees could easily plot one person's life. The base of the tree represents our birth and our early years--a haze of filial memories and events that aren't easy to remember, yet they inevitably lead to our later years.

But as you get further up the tree, you notice branches and wily arms that could signify our present and our future. Each branch twists off into oblivion helping to show the people and things that make us. It's nature's emblem for life. Probably hence the concept of a "family tree." 

If you think about it, you never know where these branches will start and where they will end. These branches just wind and contort into lovely or melancholy recollections of one person's path. Each branch has its own destiny, its own convoluted way of showing where a relationship will finally guide us. 

The branch could stop suddenly; a representation of something that has run its course or turned sour. A branch could continue on forever and supply us with a metaphor for something that we never want to end--or will never cease to end. 

"College"? Nah, I'll Pass On Your Song, Brah.

   Ok, so I'm at a party tonight and I see two lovely looking women. Two absolute barn burners. Like, "let-time-slow-down" kind of women. Jeeze-oh-shit. One was blonde, shorter than me (oh my, that's a definite plus), curves like an hourglass, and a face that could've slayed Goliath. The other was a fine, oh-so-fine brunette. I could feel my heart sink in this abysmal desire that'll never rear its head towards me. 

   But I approached anyways. And I got denied, but it was worth it.

   And you know what the song was when I approached? That Asher Roth song. That one about college and the like. That one where he talks about liking girls and drinking and freshmen. Or something along those lines.

   And I can't help but feel some sort of apathy--neesh--dislike towards this song about my current state. I just can't.

   Don't get me wrong: I respect Asher Roth's steeze. Moreover, I respect his skills as an MC. He has bridged the gap--at least on an underground level--between the rappers of today and the Eminem's of old. Due to Mr. Slim Shady's absence over the past (probably) four years, there hasn't been a recognizable Caucasian rapper in that time. Any white boy who can fill the void I have to give props to. 

   Especially if he's from West Chester, PA. 

   But I just can't wrap my head around him yet. I can't give him my undivided attention because of that fucking College song. It's not possible

   Look, that "Roth Boys" jam was sick. His freestyle on BET's 106 & Park? Ballsy.

   But "College"? Mayne, that's just hackneyed.

   I know what college is about. I'm here 24/7 as of right now. I realize that freshmen at a party are about as revered as an STD on a nice-looking lady. And I understand that beer pong is a pretty awesome game. Trust me, Asher, I've played it before. And I can say with my whole heart that women are pretty bad ass. But do I need you to tell me that over a song with a limp beat and trite lyrics? Hell no, bro.

   Stick to the mixtape circuit. Stick to making great remixes of popular hits already on the radio. I recognize your talents and I support them. Don't make crappy songs about college that don't showcase your potential. 

   Anyone in college doesn't need another song glorifying the lifestyle. We all know what's up. Shit, if I want to hear a song about partying, I'll slip in Appetite For Destruction. You're about twenty-one years too late. 

   Establish yourself as one of Philly's elite. Make rhymes that made Cee-Lo astonished to meet your fratty, white ass. Don't make songs that I could've created drunk (like I am now). Because you probably were when you made it.

-Dude Observation #1: Isn't weird how every cool, beautiful girl is dating some complete chach-rocket?

-Dude Observation #2: Is it not manly to like Lily Allen? She's got some sick beats.

-Dude Observation #3: Columbus is so much better than Athens in the winter. No questions asked. At least when you don't have an ID. Actually, probably even if you do have an ID. 

Fights and European Politics

   As I sit here letting my mind wander to Wilco, I can't help but think about something: how many times do you see a fight actually escalate into an actual fight with ass-whoopings and flailing knuckles?

   I was at the University of Kentucky this past weekend and I witnessed a "fight." This "fight" was a fight in the sense that two people had a misunderstanding and some mediocre shoving was exchanged. Oh, and a few, "bro, you don't even know me"s were exchanged too (like knowing the other guy would've made any difference).

   I put the word fight into quotation marks because I don't feel as if this qualifies as a fight. But more often than not, when people discuss recent fights/spats/rows that they have with people, this is essentially what the situation boils down to: a few pejoratives, maybe some shoving and a few awkward head nods. 

   The last time I checked this barely qualifies as a fight. Hell, situations like these barely even qualify as logical disagreements. 

   I want to see a fight that involves fisticuffs, broken noses, bloodied lips, and maybe even a girl or two. 

   What do you think the success rate is for these? The success rate for a fight?

-Also, I think it's fair to say that you can easily tell the difference between American political parties and their European counterparts by looking at both regions' sports. In the American political system, it's all-or-nothing; you either win or you don't, leaving two very large political parties to rule the American political landscape. American sports are the same way: one league for each professional sport, one champion. Simple as that. In Europe, partial wins go a long way. Partial wins give representation to smaller parties allowing for multiple parties to be heard in European countries' parliaments. In European soccer leagues, a fourth-place finish gets you an UEFA Champion's League spot. If a soccer club stays in the top-flight of a country's soccer league and doesn't get relegated to a lower division, that's a payday. Isn't it weird how many parallels sport and politics possess? Shit, man.  

More Thoughts.

Well shit. Speak. More thoughts from this dude.

1. Which acoustic guitar riff do you think is better? The intro to Dispatch's "The General" or the intro to Jack Johnson's "Taylor"? Both are total gnar-dog riffs. To the max. 

2. How often do you think about the people you walk by on your way to class? That is, think about the random people you see everyday during your life. The people that you pass once in your life that you'll never see again. What kind of person do you think he or she would be if you actually stopped to meet him or her? What kinds of stories/experiences would you procure from meeting such a person? Would it be worth it?

3. And finally, how do you describe your relationships with others? Are you closed-off and boarded up from the rest of the world, only sharing with those who you feel pass the test of truthfulness after twenty years of knowing one person? Or do you share with others like it's your fucking job? 

   I constantly think about how I portray myself. It's human to be insecure in such a manner. It's a hard thing to relate to someone, and for someone to open him or herself up as well. It takes a lot to trust someone, no matter who he or she may be.

   I'm optimistic. I trust people very easily (as I stated in my last blog entry).  But I think my view of humanity is justified and worth it. Even if some do not believe so at first.

   We've all met shitty people. It's a known fact and this may seem like a tangent from my previous paragraph. But it's senseless to keep such little faith in people. As my last question was posed, why do we shut ourselves off? Why do we keep people out of our situation much like a bouncer keeps an 18-year-old guy like myself out of a club?

   Everyone is insecure and that's for good reason. Everyone has so many flaws that it's not even funny. We all possess negatives in our personality that we come off as shitty people, no matter how hard we try to skew it.

   We need to embrace these flaws. Let people know who you are: for the good and the bad.

   You're denying yourself life if you do not give someone (even a complete stranger) your absolute self. It's never a good thing getting a false-image of someone during the first meeting. It's real shitty, actually.

   Let yourself be free. Let yourself be free of imitation and share yourself with another person. It's alright. 

   I've never believed in shutting yourself off from the world. Maybe it's because I've met enough people who try to continue to do just this, but in the end it's not worth it.

   You never know who you'll meet in life. 

   It's always safe to not let anyone in, to not let a person get close to you. But how do you meet people if you do such a thing?

   I say live and give your life story. Sure, you'll get hurt. And sure, you'll find people who don't agree with your principles. But in the end, you took the risk and you let people have the honest-to-fucking-God image of yourself. And you can't disagree with that. 

   And this is how you find your closest friends. Risk it and let people in. Be ballsy and grow a pair. Who gives a shit? 

   The worst that can happen is you find someone that doesn't respect you, but do you really need that person influencing your life?

   Not at all.

   Be vulnerable and step off the edge. How do you know until you've given someone a shot? 

Thoughts.

Well...balls. That break went quick.

I haven't posted in here for awhile, but I have a few things to write about today to kick off the new year. A few things that I noticed during my break that particularly struck a cord while mind-numbingly staring at the cheap, retail-fashion-lined walls of Express. Well, at least for the four weeks they consistently employed me. 

1. "You're like a rain cloud if it rained mushroom clouds, everybody hit the ground." Ryan Adams is fucking brilliant. 

   I would just leave it at that, but I don't think such an abrupt conclusion would necessarily be enough to suggest how awesome Mr. Adams' music is. 

   First, I would like to thank you, Patrick Kouskouris, for mentioning such golden, musical honey to me in the first place. Your suggestion was MUCH appreciated. 

   I don't think I've been this excited for a new artist in a long time. That's not to say that Ryan Adams is new to the music scene (he's been releasing hit albums since the mid-1990s), but he's definitely a new name to me. 

   What excites me the most about Ryan Adams isn't necessarily his sound--well that's a lie, his sound is fantastic. But it's the way that he has a song for almost any sort of mood. He's versatile, a sort of amorphous figure in alternative rock/country, blues, folk, etc. (he's got way too many genres to qualify for).

   His album Love Is Hell sounds like A Rush of Blood to the Head b-sides, had the lyrics been written entirely by Thom Yorke. He provides melancholy and truth that's so cathartic you can feel depression running down your leg like piss. I want "The Shadowlands" to be played at my funeral.

   His other albums Rock N Roll and Cardinalogy rock your colon out your throat with plenty of steel-nosed guitar. And Easy Tiger is a throwback to what made Adams so popular in the first place: good, ole' fashioned alt-country music. 

   Check him out if you haven't done so already.

2. Has anyone ever noticed that Hugh Hefner is a modern day re-incarnation of F. Scott Fitzgerald?

3. I guess it took for a good friend to cut-up on me enough to make me realize that I don't actually hate Lil Wayne. Rather, I just can't listen to him for more than four of his songs (unless those songs appeared on the Birdman & Lil Wayne album. Or Lil Wayne appears on the track with another artist in general. It gives a nice Weezy dilution).

   So, there you go. I don't actually hate him. His voice and rhythm isn't the most pleasing to me, and I still can't stand how he can go from trying to shove every syllable into one bar to trying to sound like some codeine-induced version of Allen Ginsburg. 

   It's frustrating. 

   So I don't hate him. I just think he's way overrated. 

4. I'm ashamed to be a Big Ten fan. I hope to be so liquored up on Monday night that my beer jacket turns into a beer blanket and coats my eyes from another state-wide tragedy.

5. Finally, I have to disagree with your opinion, Pfef. Ignore my original comment on your blog post yesterday. 

   For those of you who didn't read my roommate's blog yesterday, he wrote on the relationships we keep between ourselves and members of the opposite sex and how he classifies certain types of women. 

   So, Pfef, neesh. 

   Relationships in general--on a romantic or friend level--are difficult. I'm sure everyone can agree with me there.

   Determining how people are going to act, what they're like, or what they essentially mean to you--even upon first meeting--is just as difficult to determine. Women are especially hard to "classify." And I'm sure that everyone can agree with me there.

   It's not possible to determine these "winners." No matter who the woman is, all are too complex to simply group into Pfef's original categories. You never know what a person has been through and you never know how one is going to act in a certain situation.

   I feel that everyone should be assured a certain type of respect. Even a simple "how do you do?" or general amiability works. I've seen women who appear to be perfect have issues and I've seen women who seem bitchy have so much more than the cutting sarcasm that defines them upon first meeting.

   You never know who you're going to meet in life. People are so different from one another. What makes one person tick might not make another tick. You never know who you're going to find yourself making friends with or getting close to. Every person out there has a voice and has something interesting to say. In order to ascertain what that person is about takes respect--that basic, unwavering respect. Sometimes, women (or men) haven't been shown enough of that respect in the past, so they act as if they have none. That's why it's important to give everyone at least one chance, even if for a brief second.

   Now that's not to say that method is perfect; it is definitely not. But it's more truthful than simply cornering women into titles that most certainly do not define them. 

   I've most certainly fucked up relationships and friendships in the past and I've got way too many apologies to deliver. I'm probably way too open of a person for my own good, I trust easily, I'm needy, and I worry from looking into something too much. 

   But I still stick by my method. It lets you determine who you want in your life and who you don't want in your life. And that's how you should group people.

   Give respect in order to get respect. Give respect and you might just get a good friend. Give respect and you might find your future boyfriend or girlfriend. Give respect. Much respeck.

Anyways, I hope that everyone had a great New Year's. For those of you who go to OU, I'll see ya soon.