Wednesday, May 23, 2007

First comes love, then comes some other stuff

So I just discovered my past couple posts hadn't posted. I don't know why that was, exactly, but they seem to be up now. Personally, I blame the Democrats.

You know what phenomenon I don't understand? The dating phenomenon. We seem to live in a cultural machine obsessed with dating. I mean, seriously. I turn on the television: ads for dating. I open my Intenret browser: ads for dating. There must be some very lonely people out there, to justify this proliferation. Is the solitude of your own company really that intolerable?

I'll admit, I probably don't date as much as I "should." It's something of a chronic problem, I suppose. I just don't like most people, and I've found most girls I've dated to be something of a disappointment, ultimately. Not their own fault. I just don't see the point in a relationship sans some sort of spark. And in the case of the few girls I've truly liked, I was either too insecure at the time to realize they liked me back or else was hindered by the existence of current boyfriends. Either marry the girl or get out of the way of DESTINY, fellas.

But my real point in all this is: is it really hard to meet people? I don't think so. I don't date that much, and yet I have no trouble getting dates when I want to. I don't understand the existence of this apparently wide demographic of individuals who so desperately want to date yet can't seem to find anyone to go out with. Maybe finding "Mr. Right" to go out with is a little trickier, but I don't see how a dating website is going to help. Attraction requires a little more than finding matching lists of your favorite books. If anything, one of the joys of a relationship is meeting someone with different interests so you can be exposed to something new.

In particular, Yahoo! had something the other day on "10 Pick-up Lines That Work" or something like that. I've made my dislike for pick-up lines pretty clear, either on this blog or the old one. They're such a stupid idea. I suppose there's a comfort in the concept of a pick-up line: that you could walk up to any woman and have her swooning in your arms with one wry comment. Here are some pick-up lines that have been known to work:

1. My annual income is over 100K.

2. My name is George Clooney.

3. I don't mind "the smell."

But the Yahoo! ones were the most obvious things you can imagine. "Comment on something nearby." No, really? Like if I see a cute girl at the supermarket I should ask her a question about produce (not melons, mind you)? If you really needed someone to tell you that, you should probably give up dating right now, because relationships only get more complicated from there.

Ultimately, I dislike the pick-up line because it's very premise is faulty, as is (in my opinion) much of the dating industry's. A pick-up line is a tool designed to help you introduce yourself to a beautiful woman you see on the street. This is a woman you know nothing about, other than the fact that she is attractive. Surely you've learned by this point in your dating life that just because a girl is cute by no means ensures she's worth talking to and, thereby, by no means ensures she's worth dating. It's an entire concept founded on superficiality. Personally, I only date people I already know. I've paid for too many boring dinners to have it any other way.

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Yoda says: you are reckless!

Today at my bar review class the lecturer explained to us that C couldn't be the correct answer because getting drunk and then driving over the speed limit wasn't reckless. Interesting. I suppose that's how he justifies it to his AA sponsor, anyway.

Monday, May 14, 2007

Law Graduate

So I officially graduated from law school. I suppose you think I'm happy. Actually, I'm quite the opposite. I'm sad. And not the good sad. Not the college sad. Not the "Weren't these some good days that have come to an end, alas!" sad. My sadness was the real thing. I looked around on graduation day at all my classmates who were so happy, so proud to be graduating. And I just didn't feel it. I was pretty neutral about the whole experience of graduating. And the fact that I could identify with everyone else's happiness made me sad. It made me feel like I was missing out on something. Obviously I was experience some variant of the "misery loves company" syndrome.

Graduating from law school, for me, was sort of like losing your virginity to a girl you don't really like. You should be happy. You did it! You just had sex! This is an important milestone! But something about you just doesn't feel right. You feel like it could have been more special if you'd waited longer or thought it out better. You feel empty because you feel like you should be entitled to feel happier. Law school, for me, is that girl you don't really like.

This may sound arrogant, but I think part of the reason I wasn't as excited as some of my classmates is because I have parents who are more successful than most. I'm the first J.D. in my family, true, but my parents are both significantly educated, and obviously all there education and success rubbed off on me. So there was never really any doubt I'd be able to do it, and it's not all that impressive compared to the accolades of my family. I think if this was some first-generation stuff I'd have felt more proud.

I suppose I should be proud that I stuck out all three years even though I hated them; that's what my dad tried to tell me. Now I know I'm not a quitter. Sort of an expensive lesson, if you ask me. To say nothing of the fact that one might question the logic of doing something you hate for three years just to prove you're not a quitter.

Still, as the memory of my misery fades and the line on my resume stays the same, I suppose ultimately this experience will have been worth it. At least it got me to move to Minneapolis, which is probably one of the coolest cities I've ever been to. Perfect mix of culture, livability, and Midwest charm.

Sunday, May 06, 2007

Right now...what?

Some of my friends have asked me to post a blog on the Spurs' performance in the NBA finals, but there's something I'd much rather talk about: the Pussycat Dolls' promos for the NBA. They're so lame. With that endorsement, you can view an amalgamation of them below:

First of all, I think I said this on my old blog, but I really don't care for the Pussycat Dolls. Their music's pretty contrived, and they're really not that hot. I mean, yes, they're hot, but in that "I'd pork you and never call you again" sort of way, which, really, isn't a very good way to be hot. Even back in high school, trapped in my greatest moments of physical insecurities, I never aspired for that level of attractiveness. Maybe you'd keep a Pussycat Doll around for a couple extra days just to show your friends how hot the girl you banged is; but they're certainly not hot enough for me to repeatedly tune in and endure their crappy music, all for the sake of a glimpse of the Pussy goodness.

But what irks me even more is that this song makes no sense. Have you ever seen Dana Carvey's HBO comedy special from the late 90s where he talks about how most rock songs sound like the singers are making them up as they go along?* "She's cold as ice...paradise...and the feeling...was nice." That's what this song sounds like. When recording companies tout their popstars as singer-songwriters, this must be what they're talking about: "Shoddy lyrics by..."

* "You like that Press Junket? That's improv, bitch, you can use that."

I've tried to give a sample below:

Right now
Let's give these men a "hey!"
Right now
Let's show them what we play.
Right now
You know it's time to make a stand.

Okay, I mean, really, that makes no sense. "Let's give them a 'hey!'" I guess I can swallow, even though it's clearly just a blatant set-up for the "ay" rhyming scheme. I'm thinking I've got some "say"s, "day"s, "way"s, or possibly "bay"s in my future. I'm wrong. How does "stand" rhyme with "hey" and "play?" At first I thought the lyrics might be "Give these men a hand, show them what we plan," but that makes even less sense. And how are they making a stand? How are they showing them what they play when they're shooting a volleyball? They couldn't get their hands on a WNBA ball anywhere? Really?

Right now
Don't you leave me at the post.
Right now
You can feel it coast-to-coast
Right now
Where they love this game the most.

The non-sensical lyrics continue. Don't leave you at the post? Do you mean like having you post up needlessly? Apparently this is a relic from the original version, which doesn't do it any service. If someone came up to be and beseeched me not to abandon them "at the post," I'd have no clue what they were talking about. Is the post a reference to a crossroads? If so, it's a pretty sad metaphor. :( It's also remained unclear to me where exactly they love this game the most, since "coast-to-coast" usually is a reference to the entire nation. Sort of like "sea to shining sea."

Right now
Take a look at you-know-who
Right now
Taking off into the blue.
Right now
Show the world what you can do

This verse does a little better. Despite the lead singer's assertion, I don't know who I'm supposed to take a look at (her? D-wade? (not anymore)), but I'm okay living with my uncertainty as he/she/it takes off into the blue, perhaps due to his/her/its superior levitating abilities. What, levitation? Must be a reference to LeBron.


Right now
It's time to set the pace.
Right now
Gonna square off face-to-face.
Right now
[Can't understand what she's saying...something about "this place?"]

The song ends, not with a bang, but with a whimper. You don't really square off face-to-face in basketball. It's really more of a team sport. I guess if it's a jump ball, or possibily if you're defending man-to-man, then you're facing off, but in that scenario you're going, as the terminology implies, MAN-TO-MAN and not face-to-face. But I guess that would have required a new rhyme scheme. Would it really have been that hard? Plan. Can. Pan. Bam. Sham. Stan. Tan. I guess they already used "stand" in verse 1 and there's no going back now.

In conclusion, I have to listen to some variant of this stupid song pretty much every time they go to commercial. The only consolation is I'm not alone in finding the promo unbearable.

Saturday, May 05, 2007

Get the man a microphone, stat!

I was doing a little reading on Al Sharpton this morning, and stumbled upon this quote from the mid-90s: “White folks was in caves while we was building empires...We taught philosophy and astrology and mathematics before Socrates and them Greek homos ever got around to it.” I wasn't familiar with this, but I find it sort of funny--especially given the media's inability to surface it in the recent debate pertaining to the airing of offensive statements. Some thoughts:

1. I assume he's referring to the ancient Egyptians here. Although Egypt was on the African continent (and still is, to my knowledge), Egyptologists debate the extent to which the ancient Egyptains were truly "black."

2. By the time Egyptian culture began making serious contributions to science and the arts (following the unification of the Upper and Lower Kingdoms, circa 3100 BC) Europeans had already reached an agrarian lifestyle, hence they no longer lived in caves.

3. If I had built my career lamenting the evils of slavery, I probably wouldn't talk about how kick-ass the Egyptians were. I particularly like this one because it brings up the Jews, and intros nicely into their flowery relationship with Big Al and his ilk.*

4. If black people had a head start on mathematics and philosophy, wouldn't that make white people's ability to overtake them that much more awesome? I think it would.

5. My favorite part: he mentions astrology as a great cultural contribution. Did he maybe mean ASTRONOMY?

You can learn more about some of Al Sharpton's boneheaded statements here.

* There's a place where people go
To celebrate the Sabbath Day.
And they call it Hymietown
Or so Jesse Jackson likes to say.

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

Aquaman can

Check this out: Wanna drive from New York to Paris? Google Maps says you can! Just watch out for pesky Step 24--swimming across the Atlantic Ocean. A mere 3,462 miles in exactly 29 days...apparently Google doesn't think you can swim very fast. Fortunately the rest of the trip should only take you about seven hours.