(Re)Learnings of a Weekend

Things I learned (and re-learned) this weekend. In somewhat order:

Learnings:
1. Deno makes great beef stroganoff.
2. Chicago is a great movie.
3. I can sound like a (cute) duck when I snore.
4. I'm developing bad acne.
5. I have gray hair.
6. Swype is... okay...


Re-learnings:
1. Girls are impossible. (<-- this can't be italicized enough.)
2. It's great to not be arrogant (or to assert that you know something or are right when you (and everyone else) know(s) that you don't know something/are wrong).
3. Everyone is a little bit* gay.
4. I'd rather have the ability to make someone fall in love with me than be able to read minds.
5. Tahl's mom is a GREAT cook.
6. Plaid/flannel is the way to go.
7. I'm sleepy. 


Main learning:
If this 'single' thing is going to work out, I need more cats.


*lot bit.

100th POST!

WOOOOO!!!!


RAINBOWS!!!!


YEAH!!!!!!!!!!

What's a Birthday Without....

CRAYON DRAWINGS?????

It isn't one.

So to make sure Tahlia's birthday existed, I made her a crayon-drawing card.  FOR YOUR VIEWING PLEASURE!

The envelope:

The card:

(Just tilt your head).



There was a fourth page... but... you wouldn't get it, so I'm... not gonna show it.

(Tilt your head again).


Do you know what it says? Do you need help? Too bad! HAHAHAHAHA!!!

The pomegranate I ariled:

It's much harder than it looks.


HAPPY BIRTHDAY SEVEN DAYS AGO TAHLIA!

Becca Pilgrim

So if you haven't read The Inferno by Dante Alighieri, this post might not make a lot of sense to you. But if you hate Republicans, it will be hilarious!

The assignment for my "The Age of Dante" class was to write a canto (one of the chapters) where you are the pilgrim (traveler) through the Inferno (Hell). You could choose what "sin" was to be punished, and who would be your guide. I chose "Republicanism" as my sin. The numbers in parentheses are footnotes. Yes, I really did hand this in. Yes, with the picture and caption. Yes, I will let you know if I fail this assignment.

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O Reader! I tremble as the memory washes ashore again, for the depravity and ignorance of the coming souls makes me weak. But Lady Liberty I hold dear, and I fear not. For as the sleeping bear rouses himself at the end of hibernation and starves for sustenance, I, too, crave the knowledge that distinguishes us from those who cower before the ideals of Science.

Therefore, dear Reader, know that Justice holds true, as above, so below. And with this knowledge, I beg of you, be steadfast in your dedication to Truth lest you fall ill with the sickening depravity that clouds the mind.

As we approached the lower depths, my fear manifested itself outwardly, and my master(1), sensing this, grasped my hand, passing her strength to me, and I swooned. And she to me: “Be strong, child, as your suffering(2) has made you, and now is not the time for weakness. As your arguments are solid, these souls understand not the truth and exist in some other reality unknown to us(3).” With my teacher’s words, I gathered strength and remembered that anguish(4) that was not in vain.

Entering into the lowest bowels, I was blinded from the stench(5) and I raised my robe(6) to cover my face. Unfit with my sign of weakness, my master pulled the robe from my hands and glared at me as such that it penetrated the thick darkness between us. I flinched at her raised hand, but an ugly sound caused us both to turn our heads.

Words do not exist that can justly describe the horror of the beast before us and so I save you from repulsion. The lipsticked pig dared not let us pass, but my master, knower of all things knowable, held strong against the beast: “Palin! How is the view of Russia now? Our passage is willed on high, and if you feel these words insufficient may we present data that proves this beyond a doubt!” With the mere semblance of Fact(7), the pig oinked and grunted, indistinguishable from that of any low beast, and we passed.

And I: “Master, who are those that seem surrounded by the black fog? Do my eyes deceive or is the darkness greater there? And she to me: “Let us approach the soul there and you can ask what ails you.” As we neared the soul, the air grew dense(8) and my breath suffered.  “Soul,” I coughed, “grant me your name and tell me what this fog is, and I shall remind the world of you.” 

The soul spoke, raspy from the air, with a thick Texas accent: “I’m George W. Bush, of the White House Bushes. I’m certain this fog is the Black Smoke monster from Lost(9). I was the leader of an island, just like Jacob(10), the island of America, and the Black Smoke monster just won’t have it. And that’s why I’m here.”

And I to him: “Lost? The television show? And America isn’t an island(11).” My teacher understood my confusion and interjected:  “In the underworld, the souls are granted knowledge and must speak only truth, but since these ones rejected truth while living, they must spend eternity without it also.” And I: “How is it then that this one answers my questions?” My master: “He answers as if what he knows were the truth. But if you have further questions, ask of him, and I may be able to correct his falsities.” And I to the soul: “Why didn’t you sign the Kyoto Protocol?” And the soul: “Ooh! Is that that new XBOX game? Hey, is the Black Smoke Monster making it hard for you to breathe too?”

Unsatisfied, I turned to my master. And she: “The fog that surrounds him is carbon dioxide, as he is forced to breathe the air which he himself required the world to breathe by not signing the Kyoto Protocol. But as is obvious, his knowledge remains limited as it were when he was living. He denied the proof of global warming, and thus is forced to experience its effects for eternity. But let us push on, as the sun is lower now.”

Grateful for the guidance my wise master bestowed to me, I hastened my steps so as not to anger her. She noticed my quickness and smiled at my reverence(12).  Before exiting that place where Wisdom falters to gain recognition, I asked my master to point out the souls we passed so as to learn of the wretchedness committed and here I convey it. And my master: “Those two there forced to eat the excrement of cows are Glenn Beck and Bill O’Reilly(13); the crowd behind them, those associated with Fox News. And that group there, being impaled(14), are members of the Tea Party.” 

(1) Rachel Maddow of MSNBC.

(2) School

(3) Non-Republicans

(4) Also, school

(5) It is widely known that Republicans house an odor most foul.

(6) Graduation gown.

(7) Science. 

(8) Like the soul we are to meet.

(9) An amazing television show that once aired on ABC.

(10) A main character from Lost.

(11) The pilgrim's confusion stems from Bush's idiocy. Rachel Maddow, as guide, is able to lessen the pilgrim's confusion as seen later in the canto.

(12) The sexual tension between the pilgrim and Rachel Maddow is implicit. 

(13) A fitting contrapasso where people who divulge bullshit are, themselves, forced to eat shit. 

(14) The Tea Partiers are being impaled with their own protesting signs.

The canto is illustrated in this famous image by Becca di Guido. The image shows Rachel Maddow and the pilgrim in conversation with the soul George W. Bush, who is encompassed in “a black smoke.” Note the facial expressions of the three characters: Rachel Maddow acknowledges the soul’s misconceptions, while the pilgrim is confused by the soul’s words. The soul’s expression of joviality escapes his ignorance. Becca di Guido artistically captures the pilgrim’s renowned BearHat.