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Friday, May 30, 2003

I'm finished teaching classes for this school year. Now, I'm just waiting in my classroom (the desk finally cleared off) for our principal to give the "all clear" so we can leave. It's been a long year, but one of my favorites. I'd even say it's been the best year so far in my existence. The break will be nice. I'm spending that time to write.

I'll try to get the internet at home as soon as possible. Otherwise, it may be awhile before I post again. But when I do... get ready for (what will no doubt be a legendary blog post to end all blog posts) THE STUFF PEOPLE WROTE IN MY HIGH SCHOOL ANNUAL.

From the Friday Five:

1. What do you most want to be remembered for?
As someone who deeply cared for others-- I could do no better.

2. What quotation best fits your outlook on life?
"There is no spoon."

3. What single achievement are you most proud of in the past year?
Doing my best to teach my students

4. What about the past ten years?
Meeting Melissa.

5. If you were asked to give a child a single piece of advice to guide them through life, what would you say?
Read (books, signs, symbols, people, events, comics, cartoons, photographs, artwork, film, news, yourself, ideas, philosophies, religions, histories, propaganda, fine print, margins) and think about what you read.

Thursday, May 29, 2003

Yesterday, I looked through all of my high school annuals. To sound cliché: it brough back some memories. I read some of the comments people wrote in my annual. Some blogworthy stuff in there. Ironic. Profound. Disturbing. Be ready. I'm tempted to post a ton of it. All unedited and painfully honest: the stuff people wrote in my annual! Oh yeah.

For the most part, people just said stuff like, "You're kinda weird, but that's okay" and "Be cool" and "Don't Change." But that's... not... all... they... said... I'm posting it all very soon.

"Don't change." I think that's the most cruel thing anyone could say to someone.
It's the last week of school. I've got so much to take care of. Today was the first day of finals. A mountain of paperwork. It's amazing-- the hardest part about being a teacher is not the teaching part. That's easy. It's all this administrative stuff I have to wade through.

Hopefully soon, we will get the world wide web (haven't heard that complete phrase for awhile, huh?) at home. That way, I can post whenever I'm not at school during the summer.

Friday, May 23, 2003


From the Friday Five,
discovered via Andrew

1. What brand of toothpaste do you use?
Crest Double Whitening Fresh Mint

2. What brand of toilet paper do you prefer?
No preference. Anything with a baby on it.

3. What brand(s) of shoes do you wear?
Black Converse low tops.

4. What brand of soda do you drink?
Coca-Cola

5. What brand of gum do you chew?
After I met Melissa, I quit chewing gum.

Thursday, May 22, 2003

"Huh? I am not a bum, I'm a jerk. I once had wealth, power, and the love of a beautiful woman. Now I only have two things. My friends and... uh... my thermos. Huh? My story? O.k. It was never for easy for me. I was born a poor black child. I remember the days sitting on the porch with my family singing and dancing, down in Mississippi."

Monday, May 19, 2003

Define "random."
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"You had a whole legion of fans under 17 whose parents were obviously willing to take them to see this movie," Paul Dergarabedian, president of box office tracker Exhibitor Relations Co. told The Associated Press Sunday. "You can almost call this an R-rated family film." (via Hollywood.com news)
Fred Peatross's blog got a major makeover with FutureMargins.
"Perhaps postmodernism is the judgment of God for modernity. What say you?"
Dating a Blogger, Reading All About It (as usual, via Dan)


Sunday, May 18, 2003

"Street doctor"

Today in Deep Ellum, I met a homeless man named Stanley. He asked me if I liked art, and then informed me everything in the trailer of a nearby truck was free. The trailer had branches and garbage. He continued that there were legal papers in the back and if ever I needed to know how to file a report when the "pigs pick on somebody" I would know how to do this. After which, he asked me for a cigarette or some pennies. I grabbed for a dollar. He caught a glimpse of my five dollar bill and asked for one of the "big bills." I begrudglingly gave it to him and asked if we were friend now. This statement was a miscalculation on my part. He punched me in the chest three times. (Not hard, but still forceful.) And then he asked me to hit him. I tapped Stanley on the shoulder. He told me to hit harder, so I hit him a little harder on the shoulder. He pointed to my digital camera.
"Is that your camera?" (warning lights)
"Um yes."
"Here. Take a picture of me in my garbage."
"Really? Are you sure?"
Stanley told me how to position the camera. Then he posed, telling me he was a street doctor and this was his "street doctor" pose. After I took the picture, he then asked to take a photo of me. I was hesitant. Was this a scheme to run off with my camera? Against the inner voice of better judgement, I imagined he just wanted to take my picture. I was right. He told me where to stand and how to pose. He took my picture. Before I left, Stanley the Street Doctor gave me a tie with a little stuffed-toy bunny rabbit tied to the end. I politely declined, but he insisted.

Now, I have two photos, three punches from a homeless man, a tie, a stuffed-toy bunny rabbit, and a great story. All for $5.



Thursday, May 15, 2003

The website situation is slowly, but surely, resolving itself. I'm working with doteasy now. Hopefully, by the beginning of summer break, a new website will be in place.

Wednesday, May 14, 2003

The whole carrot/stick language in foreign policy bothers me like nothing else. Diplomatic binaries? Incredibly imperialistic. Condescending. Simplistic.
You have got to be kidding me. (via dan)
It was a great night at the Caughey residence. I had a lot fun. Eating spagetti. Meeting new people. Playing old Cosmo Monkhouse songs. Talking drug industry conspiracy theories, Heathers, dewey decimal system, NPR, kung fu and gender binaries.

Tuesday, May 13, 2003

A teacher at my high school died last night. I didn't know her very well, but she was in the English Department along with me. Her students were her family, and I admire people who commit themselves so fully to a worthy cause.

She didn't just teach. She believed in teaching. Peace be with you, Ms.K.

Monday, May 12, 2003

hoping for an accident
we'll go through this life unplanned, unprepared
like all things beautiful, and out of time

Friday, May 09, 2003

I posted this statement on a comic book forum in reference to a particular storyline. However, I thought it was rather profound:
"Faking your death is cliché. Sorry. I don't buy it as a viable option."
Today. I bought Pump Up the Volume DVD for only $5. I couldn't resist. Pump Up the Volume was more than one of my favorites, during high school, this flick was formative.

When Christian Slater as Mark Hunter starts a riot in the streets of suburbia, I thought "Damn. I envy him." Not that I wanted to be in a riot, no, my dream was to start a riot. Samantha Mathis as Nora, gosh. I fantasized about finding a girlfriend exactly... like... her. Let's just say, she was the first girl I was ever attracted to. Artsy, intelligent, rock'n'roll beauty. Needless to say, when I met Melissa, she was batting 1000. I couldn't let her escape!

The question is, how was this movie formative? I guess with my riot-urges, it's a good thing I'm not in a position of power (such as teaching) or a pastoral figure. Oh wait.

Add to the soundtrack:
Peace, Love, & Understanding by Elvis Costello

Thursday, May 08, 2003

I actually said in class:
"Back during the '60s, your hippy parents read A Separate Peace and when they got to page 113 a little hippy tear ran down their cheek."
Burning Man 2003 Art Theme: Beyond Belief

"What is any religion? A little ritual, a little superstition, and some magic. It's not a strictly spiritual affair; it has psychological roles to fulfill. You might not want it to be a religion based on your own experience but that's like wanting to clean up your dreams"
— Gary Snyder

"There is no formal difference between play and ritual, so the consecrated spot cannot be formally distinguished from the playground. The arena, the card table, the magic circle... all are in form and function playgrounds, i.e. forbidden spots, isolated, hedged round, hallowed, within which special rules obtain. All are temporary worlds within the ordinary world, dedicated to the performance of an act apart."
— Johan Huizinga

“Mystical states, when fully developed, usually are, and have the right to be, absolutely authoritative over the individuals to whom they come, [but] no authority emanates from them which should make it a duty for those who stand outside of them to accept their revelations uncritically.”
— William James

Wednesday, May 07, 2003

Andre wants to go home.

I am continually amazed at what a basic human need that is, to go home. The Odyssey may be one of the greatest stories of all time-- a man in search of his identity and his home. I'm 26. "Home" is currently an odd concept. My friend Wim just bought a house, but is it his home? My parents are moving to California. My sister is going to college in California. I've never lived in California. Will visiting them feel like home or just like visiting? My wife and I live in an apartment in Dallas. Dallas feels like home, but as a new home-- still strange and exciting. I identify with it, because my wife is there. It's as though when you get married the concept of "home," transfers from being a location to being embodied within a person, within a relationship. What does it mean though to be at home with yourself? Is it even possible? It would be like stearing a ship in the ocean. You need a reference point beyond the bow of the ship. Home cannot be yourself. It is a reference point to guide you, to lead you.

Friday, May 02, 2003

so tired. must sleep. if i had it to do over again, i still would've gone to the midnight showing of x2. i feel no shame. just need a nap.

Thursday, May 01, 2003

Binary is fun. (via Dan)

A secret message from me!
0110101001110101011100110111010000100000011011110
11011100110010100100000011101110110111101110010011
00100001011100010111000101110001000000111000001101
100011000010111001101110100011010010110001101110011
It's my birthday today. I'm 26. Cool. I'm looking forward to hanging out with my friends tonight. And I'm going to see a midnight showing of X2. With all of the excitement ahead of me, it makes the day move v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y.
It's me at the anti-war rally. Geez, too bad they decided to go ahead and have the war anyways. Did my sign mean nothing to you?!! Thanks Summer for the pics.


My current soundtrack:
1. Wave of Mutilation ~ Pixies
2. Local God ~ Everclear
3. She's Electric ~ Oasis
How to speak e-business.
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