I wrote this little thing three years ago, but it's been on my mind lately. I edited it up a bit and thought I would repost it. Happy Holidays to all who happened to check my blog six-plus months after my last post and discover this new post!
For over a year when I was barely not a toddler and not quite a kid, I asked my mom to read me “'Twas the Night Before Christmas” before bed every single night. I loved that book.
The copy I had seemed very old, which made it extra special. It was large with a hard binding covered in fabric. Its cover was bigger than both my hands spread wide across its surface, and I had to carefully balance it in my lap if I looked at it alone. Like most kids, the idea of this man who lived forever with the sole purpose of making presents year-round consumed me. It made sense that he existed. Who wouldn't love giving gifts for a living while supplied with an army of elves and cavalry of reindeer at your disposal?
But how was Santa the one who got the gig? Had nobody given gifts before him? Did Santa start Christmas? No, the Baby Jesus did. I had that book, too.
'That's tacky,' my mom said when our neighbors put up a neon sign that beamed out a green and red-lighted message: Happy X-Mas. I asked why, and she explained that the 'X' took all the nice things out of Christmas--that it made Christmas all about buying stuff and not about being with family and friends. 'Why bother putting up the sign if it doesn't even spell the whole word out? It's missing the real message.'
So I would return to my studies, poring over the famous Christmas Eve text, looking for clues on what the real message was. After my mom would say goodnight and shut my bedroom door, I'd pick the book back up from its spot on my bookshelf and, unable to read the majority of the words, I would stare at the pictures. There had to be something I was missing, and once I found it, the whole Santa-Jesus-Christmas thing would become clear to me. Instead, the pictures--out of the context of the story itself--became more confusing.
Most confusing was the last picture in the book. Santa had finished his big night--the gifts delivered, the cookies eaten, the milk drank. But here on the last page, without any words to explain, was Santa--lying out in the sun, stretched onto a beach chair with sunscreen slathered thick and white on his nose. He was holding a drink with a little umbrella in it like the ones that I could get at TGIFriday's with my soda if I asked the waiter nicely. Santa was on vacation.
A slew of questions arose: Did Santa stop at home before hitting the beach or did he leave the reindeer on their own to get back to the Pole? Where's his red suit and does he always wear yellow swim trunks when not decked in fur and red velvet? Where's Mrs. Claus? Does she get a vacation, or do she and the elves slave over the next year's toys beginning on December 26th without any help from Santa? When does his vacation end, does it last a week or until December 23rd of the next year?
After a year I got tired of trying to figure it out. I had learned to read almost all of the words in the book, I had stared at the pictures for hours on end, and nothing was becoming clearer. Santa, I guessed, would remain a mystery.
Perhaps driving this Christmas quest was my personal relationship with Jesus. I don't, however, mean 'personal relationship' in the way that a Catholic grandmother might mean it. I really mean 'relationship,' to the point where at age four, I had a crush on the Biblical figure and wanted him to be my boyfriend. Of all my imaginary playmates ("Charlaines" my five-dollar pink bear bought at KB Toys, Barbie, Grover from Sesame Street, and Elmo too--until I found out Elmo was a 'he' and not a 'she' and I felt terribly cheated), Jesus was my favorite. He was the most real and the nicest.
Where my relationships with other imaginary friends were sometimes strained—Charlaines and I were known to bicker over who got the window seat on the airplane fashioned out of meticulously be-rowed dining room chairs; Grover was antisocial and required lots of prodding to pull himself out of a morose mood; Barbie demanded my representation as her lawyer in multiple divorce court proceedings when her misguided romances with various Kens fell through; Elmo turned out to be a boy—my relationship with Jesus was pure, blissful. Our friendship was open, supportive and active. Jesus often wanted to play outside, dance to opera music, and he liked my drawings.
But my friendship with Jesus came crashing down around me during my last year in preschool. On a sticky August afternoon, Jesus and I were playing outside under my favorite tree in my backyard. My dad had made the swing--a truly rough tree swing fashioned with a flat, hard, butt-numbing wood board for a seat and two ropes that would give even the toughest sailors calluses. I loved it. So on this afternoon, I--willing to be a good friend and share--was pushing Jesus on the swing since it was His turn. Then, something happened. It might have been because I hadn't been spending much time lately looking at the illustrations in my Mom's childhood Bible, or maybe because I had waited so long before I did share the swing with Him, or maybe I was just pushing too hard... But suddenly, unexpectedly, Jesus flew back much farther than anticipated and I was hit in the face.
I fell onto my back, knocking my head on the ground. Worst of all was my chin--scraped by either His foot or the butt-numbing swing itself. I ran inside, crying and confused. While I sat in her lap, my mom put Neosporin, gauze and medical tape on my chin and I explained to her what had happened. Through my tears, I made a vow. I was done playing with Jesus.
It wasn't that I didn't believe in Jesus, I concluded, I just wasn't friends with Him anymore. I went back to studying my 'Twas the Night text. Sadly, Santa still wasn't providing explanations or answers as he smiled over his tropical drink. Even more devastating was when, clued in by context not too long after my break-up with Jesus, I found out that Santa was not real.
The details of this horrible revelation I do not remember. According to my mom, I asked for the truth in the car while running errands with her. I asked timidly and in a way that my Mom took to mean that I had figured it all out, and even if she couldn't pull over on Ohio Route 42 to talk about it, she should be honest with me then and there. She said that I was right, Santa didn't exist but that the spirit of Santa Claus was a very real thing. My mom tells me I cried quite a bit, but I've done a pretty great job repressing this moment. I do remember, however, that afterward I put the 'Twas the Night book on the shelf indefinitely, deciding I was too old for Santa, and feeling more confused than ever about what Christmas really meant.
Things have changed over the last twenty-plus years. I no longer resent Santa for not being real and I'm not begrudging Jesus for that scrape he gave me on the swing. I don't keep a copy of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas nor of The Holy Bible bedside. I don't believe in Santa, and I'm pretty sure Jesus was an okay guy, but not the son of God or anything.
Children in France are taught that Santa is Saint Nicholas, patron saint of children, sailors and pawnbrokers (Go figure). The story goes that on a cold, dark and snowy night, three lost children are taken into a warm cottage by a butcher who feeds them heavily and then tucks them into bed. Once the three little kids fall asleep, the butcher sneaks back into the room and chops them into bits and pieces, tossing their sliced and now salted remains into a barrel for later. Seven years pass, and St. Nicholas happens along the cottage after hearing the sliced and salted remains of the children cry for help from their barel. St. Nicholas pieces the kids back together and informs the butcher he can repent for his sins and, if he does so, God will set him free. In other versions of the story, St. Nicholas grabs the butcher by the heels and shoves him in the barrel for all eternity (forever and ever, amen), putting a new spin on French children's images of Hell.
I'm not sure at which point Nicholas went from being Saint to Santa and moved from France to the North Pole, but I'm okay with this story. Granted, it's bloody and dated (from the 1500s actually), but in it, Santa and God coexist and fight together in an epic battle of good versus evil. So I may not be sure how commercially and spiritually I want to spend my Christmas this year--the ratio of my time spent shopping at the mall and knelt in prayer now escapes me--but either way, they both beat the third alternative--spending seven years salty and in pieces at the bottom of a barrel. And I suppose that's a good reason to celebrate the holiday season.
Happy Holidays!
Friday, December 18, 2009
Christmas/X-Mas
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Changes
'What is that feeling when you're driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? - it's the too-huge world vaulting us, and it's good-by. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.' --Jack Kerouac
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Satellapalooza
How cool is this? In just the last week or two, Google updated its satellite images of Chicago, including Grant Park. In doing so, they happened to capture Lollapalooza 2007! I have to say that the festival looks a lot tamer from the sky.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Another Day, Another Dream
Every once in a while, I have one of those strange dreams that seems to really outdo all strange dreams that came before it. This dream, which I had just before I woke up this morning, definitely falls into that category.
I find myself in a hotel room, reminiscent of a dingy south Florida motel. Pink walls, exterior hallways, sliding patio doors--the whole bit. It's afternoon, and I'm getting ready for something.
My room, even with the lights off, is stuffy, so I decide to slide open the patio door and get some fresh air flowing inside the musty motel. As I step out onto my patio (I'm on the ground floor, facing the parking lot), I see a large group of nuns boarding shuttle buses.
I remember suddenly (or realize, or however it works in dreams) that I'm staying in a convent. A convent that happens to look a lot like a south Florida motel. I'm not a nun, but this sisterhood has taken me in for a short time while I work something out. They're loading the buses on a Friday afternoon to take some trip somewhere. I watch them board as the sun lowers behind the shuttles.
Just beyond my patio, a large cat sits with its back to me. As I watch its matted fur bristle in the breeze, it stretches and turns to face me.
"Mind if I come in?" the Cat asks.
Cat's voice is neither surprising to me nor gender-specific. Not really male, not really female. Just talking Cat.
"Sure," I answer, stepping backward into the room, making space for Cat to enter.
Cat saunters by, haunches swishing as it grazes past me to sit on the floor near the bed. For a few moments, Cat is quiet and the room fills with an uncomfortable silence. I turn back to the mirror where I had been before, brushing my hair and layering on mascara. Then Cat breaks the silence.
"You know they gave you the bad room, right?" Cat says, its eyes sweeping the room observingly.
"Oh, no," I respond quietly. "I didn't know that."
I blush, simultaneously embarrassed to impose upon the nuns and pissed that they gave me the Bad Room. It seems Cat knows its way around here, so if Cat says this is the Bad Room, then it's definitely the Bad Room. I wonder why I got stuck with these quarters. Maybe it was all that was left.
I look back over at Cat, who had turned to face the parking lot, watching the last of the sisters board the shuttle.
"Aren't you going with them?" Cat asks.
"Oh, no," I say, feeling guilty. I feel as if I should honor the sisters' charity by boarding the shuttles with them and attending their event as a sign of my respect and solidarity. "I have to go to my friend's show tonight."
"Oh," says Cat nonchalantly, neither approving nor disapproving of my decision. "That should be fun for you."
"Yes," I answer. "Yes, it should be."
Photo by serhenity
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Recapturing his story
I've been obsessively reading Errol Morris' 5-part piece in the New York Times investigating the life of Amos Humiston, a soldier who fell at Gettysburg. Humiston's story is well-known for Civil War and Gettysburg buffs. His body was found in Gettysburg, unidentifiable, clutching the ambrotype of three children. Through a twisted story, those children were identified by this ambrotype, giving a name to this soldier, their father, as well.
What Morris has done is attempt to untangle the story of Humiston's life, the life of his descendants and the tricky business of claiming the stories of lives through family, genealogy and media. The stories of this family have been exploited, revered and even ignored as some family members let letters and other documents disappear.
The five-part series is in Morris' blog, and it's pretty lengthy but an amazing story. Among the things highlighted is Amos Humiston's letters to his wife during the war. This passage in particular is touching, beautifully written and haunting since we know that Amos will never see his wife again.
"January 2, 1863: “If I ever live to get home you will not complain of being lonesome again or of sleeping cold for I will lay as close to you as the bark to a tree.”
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
An Explanation
Recently I've gone missing in many ways--socially, sometimes mentally and emotionally, and certainly bloggily. My absence from UrbanSquirrelGirl can be justified, and I'm ready to explain.
A while back, I had this crazy idea for a documentary following the lives of Abraham Lincoln impersonators--those guys who don the stovepipe hats and march in parades or appear in classrooms. I kept the thought to myself, turning it around in my head, until I went on vacation to Colorado.
And now, a warning about mountains.
Mountains will make you say crazy things. Staring at their impossible peaks, you may begin to feel inspired. Perhaps you will scrawl poetry on a napkin or strum a guitar as you prepare to compose the next great American song. Careful what you say and do in these moments under the influence of mountains. I was not careful, and one little utterance has spawned months of hard work and mental/emotional/physical exhaustion. Here's how it played out.
John and I were driving in the early morning on the last Sunday in August. We were making our way through the dew in the Wet Mountain Valley with the Sangre de Cristos mountains rising up above us, cutting the morning sky open from a haze to a bright blue. It was beautiful. As John drove, I thought about the greatness of these mountains, of our country (the Democratic National Convention had been going on in Denver too, so that probably didn't help), and our country's history. The Lincoln idea sprung forth in my mind, and then, looking back up at the mountains, I lost all inhibition.
"I have this idea for a movie, and I want to make it!" I cried out to John, who was probably somewhat surprised. I then explained the details of my idea at great length and concluded with, "No matter what I say, you can't let me forget this idea or leave it behind. I think I'll regret it if I don't pursue this."
A week or so later, John met with the director of a non-profit film company in Chicago for a film of his own that he'd been working on. I was probably lazily eating ice cream on the couch or something when John mentioned that he had brought my film thoughts up to this guy and that he liked the idea and now wanted to meet me and discuss the possibility of making the film.
"What?!" I sputtered.
"You said not to let you forget this idea, remember?" John gently reminded me.
I cursed him a bit but decided it was time to put down the pint of Ben and Jerry's and get moving with this idea. And the moving has not really stopped since.
I've continued to dedicate myself to my day job and have worked on the film on nights, weekends and vacation days. The non-profit funding the film has given a great deal of support to it, and it's truly a fantastic group effort with a great team working on it. I feel extremely blessed and excited that this film is happening, but I kept it to myself for a long time for fear of totally jinxing it or embarrassing myself should it be some awesome failure.
But I've given up on that secrecy and fear of failure crap and am now basically sharing this film production with everyone who reads my blog (hey all three of you!) and anyone else who hadn't yet heard. I also wanted to apologize to any of those three blog readers and to my blog itself for ignoring UrbanSquirrelGirl for so long. I'm still in the thick of production, so I still won't be very good about updating for a while. I'll try to post links and updates about the film as I have them, starting soon.
Lots of Lincoln love,
Caitlin
Friday, March 6, 2009
Oh, and please pass the rolls.
Yesterday afternoon I stumbled upon this little note I jotted down once upon a time. I thought it definitely worth sharing. :)
2003 G. Family Christmas Dinner Conversation
(On the topic of sexual promiscuity in college)
Mom: "So your body is like a hall."
Dad: "More like an auditorium!"
(A few minutes later, when discussing the propensity for gay guys to make out with straight girls for fun)
Dad: "'Please enter the auditorium from the side door!'"
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Reflections on The Bachelor
Thank God that's over. As much as I do enjoy a good The Women Tell All show, ABC has done a fantastic job upping the ante for their final episode and the ever so terribly dramatic After the Final Rose show. So it's no surprise that I had little interest last night in rehashing Megan and Erica's cat fights, hearing Orange McOrangePants from Suburban Chicago defensively talk about how fantastic she is, or checking in (yet again) with Trista and Ryan.
I do have to say that one fantastic bit of Bachelor/ette knowledge gleaned was the existence of Caesar, the seemingly sweet and unassuming limo driver who's stuck with ABC lo these long seventeen seasons, despite his better judgment. Between Chris Harrison giving the bro-hug to Caesar and pounding it with Jason ("Hey, man!"), I kinda wish Chris Harrison were every guy's BFF. I think the world might be a better place.
So as the interweb world fell apart in the chaos of conspiracy theories speculating about the uber-dramatic Finale and ATFR episodes ("I heard Jason dumps Melissa, proposes to Molly, dumps Molly, proposes to Jillian, then instead absconds with Orange McOrangepants to Chicago where they run into Noelle and Fred and where, after a night of revelry and "amazing" self-discovery, Jason sets up a storefront kissing booth to satisfy his lady cravings..."), it was nice to finally return to something pure and true to reality TV, like the WTA episode. It reminded us all of simpler times. (See below.)
The recent complaints of some Bachelor fans may have been slightly put to rest last night with the on-screen revelations of Holly and Jesse's relationship, as well as Noelle and Fred. (Noelle and Fred, btw, are totally adorbs.) That something "real" might be squeezed out of this reality show, even if it happens long after their seasons are over and only when the cameras aren't rolling, might reassure some fans who have sworn off Chris Harrison and the rest of the gang. Scripting of a TV show?! Well, I never!
I suppose I don't watch The Bachelor/ette to experience love through the eyes of a demi-celebrity on a reality TV show. If their relationship falls apart after the fact, so what? I had my cake watching the entertaining, and often ridiculous, drama that Chris Harrison and Company cooked up during the season--I don't need to eat it too.
What would The Bachelor be without fame-seekers like Matt Grant and Shayne Lamas? Or habitual inmates like Mary Delgado? Or the gratuitous ab shots of Jason Mesnick and his rehearsed hugs with his dragged-through-the-muck-of-reality-TV son, Ty? Can these camera-loving people like this really find love on national television as they drag innocent bystanders (see: Ty, Melissa's parents) through the process with them? I personally don't think so.
That doesn't mean the show doesn't work. Maybe more "normal" people can find love, like Trista and Ryan (who to their credit, seem almost boringly normal) or the recently be-sobered and be-normaled Charlie and Sarah (Probably not. Their stint last night reeked of seeking-new-TV-show-and-cash-money-contracts.). Maybe Jillian, should she come back to the show as The Bachelorette, could find someone normal too. But those normal people like Jillian are a breath of fresh air to a show clouded with the stormy drama queens (and kings) like Shayne, Orange McOrangepants, or Ryan from DeAnna's season. (Remember Ryan's bleep? Ah, the good old days.)
But let's be genuine here--those precious drama queens and kings are really what make the show enjoyable. Without them to temper the sweetness, The Bachelor would be a saccharine slope so slippery with sugar and rose petals that we'd probably all go careening down its side and wind up changing the channel to watch something like Gossip Girl or Bridezillas just to get a decent dose of vile.
So I can't blame ABC if this finale is scripted or tweaked or whatever else. It's what I'm watching and what I want to watch, so I'm asking for it. Give me what I want, Chris Harrison!
So until next week's uber-dramatic finale and ATFR episode, I am imagining the couples who--like Holly and Jesse or Noelle and Fred--might belong together. The Bachelor/ette may not have brought them together in front of the cameras, but my friends, these people are destined for one another. Any thoughts on other couples of Bachelor/ettes past who belong together? Here are just a few of the couples and how they will most certainly meet.
Nikki and Jeremy
Perfectionists at the core, Nikki and Jeremy met at a self-improvement seminar hosted by Chris Harrison. Jeremy reminded Nikki that long before Jason stole his ab thunder, he rocked the abs of steel for DeAnna. Meanwhile Nikki absent-mindedly pinned her 'do into place and used L.A. Looks gel of steel to mold her stray hairs into place. Today, they run a Vitamin Shoppe together in southwest Chicago burbs where Jeremy doles out law advice on the cheap and Nikki, selling all-natural teeth whiteners, knocks the confidence of future beauty queens.
Brian and Stephanie
The two sweet former contestants ran into one another at a vegan bakery where Stephanie had brought Sophia for a special cupcake because it was a Saturday, and that is how the wonderful mother and daughter spent their time together on Saturday. The Silver Fox, upon seeing them there, swept Stephanie up into his arms, bought a car seat for Sophia, and the rest is history.
Matt and Raquel
Recognizing their common bond of superior international descent, Matt and Raquel met in Barcelona where Matt had gone to party away his Hollywood sorrows. It took only one salsa dance about the room with Raquel to tame the Brit Bach into domestic bliss. They now run a dance studio together in Mumbai and served as extras on the final dance scene of Slumdog Millionaire.
Kelly and Erika
As two loud drunks from seasons past, the two ladies met at a bar, challenged each other to a drinking contest, took some snakebite shots together and immediately recognized their bond. They now run a therapy center together, where they occasionally host conferences entitled "I'm a Reality TV Reject, Now What? : Recovering From Your Televised Post-Traumatic Stress."
Twilley and Shannon
Twigs and Resident Bachelor Stalker Shannon met at a post-traumatic stress conference hosted by Kelly and Erika. The two skittered into one another, Shannon rubbed some black napkin on her face, they fell in love and lived happily ever after.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Oh-oh, uh... I'm sorry, I'm not ready. Oh, no. You go ahead--no, you.
I'm notoriously bad about making decisions, particularly on the spot and especially when I feel out of place. Some people imagine hell as a place with brimstone and fire. My hell includes choices of toppings, condiments, and a waitress named Daisy who wants to know if I prefer white or wheat. God help me.
John is unfortunately familiar with my habit of waffling over menus and panicking in smaller, more intimate environments. In a Chipotle, I can never remember what salsa I like best (mild with just a little bit of medium, Caitlin! how can you forget this?!) and consistently forget to order my Burrito Bowl "to go," even if I'm eating in, just so I can shake it up and evenly distribute that lettuce throughout the whole bowl. It tastes worlds better, I swear.
I let people ahead of me in line because I can't choose a muffin; I surrender to the barista when I can't make a coffee drink choice; I flounder and order specials because I can't choose between the French onion soup and a French dip.
So when I decided to grab Subway for lunch the other day, John coached me through it via gChat. Needless to say, I don't go to Subway very often. Perhaps a belated New Year's Resolution should be increased decisiveness.
John: dont panic in line
Monday, February 16, 2009
The Bachelor: Jason Goes to New Zealand and Gets on a Boat
Chris Harrison kicks us off this episode with another over-extended recap of the entire season, which thankfully only lasts about about five minutes. (As compared with last week’s twenty-five minute rehashing—this was a welcome break.)
So here we finally are on our Fantasy Dates! One man. Three beautiful women. On the dates of a lifetime. And in one of the most beautiful places in the world: New Zealand!!
Here we are in Seattle at the Sleepless house once more with Jason packin’ up to head out to NZ. It’ll be hard to say goodbye to Ty again, Jason tells us. (Really? It’s starting to feel like he’s a pro at it.) ABC’s production assistants did a nice job on this one, cuing up a framed shot of Ty’s baby picture next to a framed shot of him and Dad together, throw in some keys, a plane ticket all thrown on the dresser, and bam! Emotion. THIS is how television is made.
Rehashing the ladies one more time for us, I do pick up on some new details.
Re: Jillian. Way back when Jillian was rocking the side ponytail and the hot dog shtick, ABC used gaffe tape to cover up the French’s Mustard label. Nice! Oh, and the same old same old about how Jillian needs to be more than a friend. Yawn. “If there’s passion, I can see myself married to Jillian.”
Re: Molly. Jason tells us that he thinks that Molly was kind of held back at first. If you’ll recall, Molly’s special talent was “kissing,” which Jason found very reserved. That’s why he invited her over for the overnight date. “On our first date, Molly slept over—I mean, we totally hit it in the Tent of Love! I mean, she spent the night slumber-party style with two separate sleeping bags, kids.” Jason’s V/O keeps things nice and vague: “We need our relationship to go to the next level--” (Read: They need to start doing more than just flirt and stare into one another’s eyes and chew one each other’s faces.) “If that happens, Molly is someone I could spend the rest of my life with.”
Re: Melissa. “Melissa immediately reminded me of my ex and of Deanna,” Jason tells us. Fantastic. Sounds healthy. We also got a nice flashback to that emotional wrap party, and I suddenly realize how alcohol-fueled all those tears were. So what’s holding Jason back from Melissa. Her terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad family. The fact that they didn’t’ show for the hometown date made Jason question “whether Melissa is really serious.” Uhhh… Okay. So Jason now wants to spend his time with Melissa in NZ getting to know why she had to insist on her parents not wanting to meet him. Great.
Welcome to New Zealand!
Jason visits yet another beach—this time wearing his shirt—where he tells us that these fantasy dates are an opportunity to spend some real “quality” time, “and more than that, we get to spend the night together!” Oh, and uh, he’s gonna be spending time with his future wife.
Fantasy Date with Jillian
Jillian and Jason meet one another in their matching flannies to spend some time up in a helicopter for yet another aerodate. Although it is another aerodate, I have to say that Jill got the best one. New Zealand > Los Angeles > Las Vegas.
The copter lands on a ledge to take in a big view. “There was no else there for miles and miles,” Jason tells us. “No one for miles and miles and miles other than the copter crew, the cameramen, the various production assistants throwing down the sheep skin blanket and wine. It was awesome.”
“I’m so happy to be here with you,” says Jason.
“Me too. Thanks, Babe,” says Jill. Babe?? Maybe it’s just my own book of lovey-dovey names, but Babe is a very intense lovey-dovey name. It means you’re pretty intimate, comfortable and in love. Maybe that’s just me. I’ll stop now.
Jillian: If you had to describe me to people back home, what would you say?
Jason: You’re fun!
Jillian: Oh, okay.
Jason: Well, what about me?
Jillian: Definitely what you are to me is the person who I’m the most attracted to ever, the person who I have an amazing connection with, have great conversations with, and someone who gets me right away.
Jason: Cool!
Jillian tells us that she has never felt this way before and that she sees Jason as someone who could be both her best friend and her husband. It’s safe to say she’s falling in love with him.
Jillian tells us that she wants to marry her best friend, and gives her grandparents as an example of this kind of love. As the ABC crew sends the tipsy couple to the edge of the cliff to play Jack and Rose, Jason tells us that he used to feel the same way as Jillian about wanting a best friend for a spouse, but now he wants more than that. “Is it too much to ask for the world?” Jason asks us. I vomit in my mouth.
That night, Jason and Jill meet at a winery. Jason wants to make sure there’s a romantic connection with Jill before he invites her to the overnight Fantasy part of the night. Naturally, Jason grills Jillian to find out her favorite parts of the day and what it is she likes about being here. Jillian passes with flying colors, concluding her sonata On Being a Bachelorette with, “I’m crazy about you. I am. And I’ve never, in my entire life, felt like someone is more meant for me than you are.” Bam! That’s enough for Jason to go in for the kiss and the sound guy to go for the synthesizer love music.
I particularly enjoyed that Jillian asked for the Fantasy Suite card. “Do you think you can handle a whole night with me?” Jillian flirts. Wow. Girl is really turning up the heat. Finally, we’re getting our time alone says Jason.
Here things get weird. Jillian’s wearing these black furry boots with her incredibly cute blue bikini. Then, after they dip into the hot tub, Jill tells Jasons, “I never ever ever imaged that I’d be falling in love with someone like you. I think you’re the most remarkable person I’ve ever met.” Then, sound guy brings in some weird bass synth, followed by the Spanish soft core music, followed by hot, blurry shots of candles and skin. The rest really cannot be written out here because it just isn’t right to sully this blog.
Date with Molly
Molly gets stuck with a rainy day for a date, but girl doesn’t let that get in the way of some tongue time right away. As the walk away, we are privy to a nice shot of our friendly ABC crew, umbrella in tow over the equipment. I begin to ponder just how many people have to work on this show to make it happen and whether Chris Harrison will acknowledge this blip in his blog tomorrow…
Back to the date. Jason and Molly are going to go bungy jumping. Not quite an aerodate… but close. After some nerves at the top, the two jump from the bridge to the tunes of happy ABC guitar music.
After drying off and changing clothes, they grab some lunch and Molly pulls out her list of questions entitled, “Things You Might Normally Learn About a Person While Dating Them But Because This is The Bachelor and We’re Always Making Out Instead of Talking, I Wrote Out These Questions With a Marker on the Plane Ride so I’m Sure I Know You Like Hamburgers.”
We learn that Jason loves Greece (already knew that one), his Air Jordans (who doesn’t?) and that he doesn’t like breakfast.
At dinner that night, Jason asks more awkward questions. There’s some talking over one another and idle chitchat of how great New Zealand is. After that, this conversation was hard to follow for me. Molly tells Jason that she has a wall up and that her family doesn’t always say that they love one another but that she would like to kiss Jason all day every day, which was nothing new to me. Finally, Molly spits out, “I really think I’m falling in love with you.”
Just like Jillian, Molly asks Jason to spend the night with her first. Jason must be starting to feel a little bit like the girls are stealing his thunder.
Of course, sleeping together is nothing new for Jason and Molly. This time they get a big soaking bubble bath instead of the hot tub. Not as cool due to the bubble-beards.
Date With Melissa
Jason is still pretty PO’d he didn’t get to meet Melissa’s family. Melissa is naturally fear-stricken. After they first meet, Melissa says she doesn’t get surprises very often. “Not even from your family??” Jason asks surprised. “No,” Melissa offers awkwardly. Then they do that adorable look-at-each-other-at-different-times and laugh uncomfortably thing.
Jason, not sure if Mel is still just that simple cheerleader he first thought her to be, asks if she knows who Winston Churchill is. Fortunately, Mel does and adds while pointing to her head, “This isn’t just a hat rack, you know!”
Turns out that this date, while not aero-themed, does take place on Churchill’s old boat which has somehow wound up here in merry old New Zealand. Perhaps Winston blew past that Iron Curtain to chillax with the crew from Lord of the Rings on his pimpin’ boat. Oh, I’m sorry. Did someone say boat?
Melissa and Jason spend their time on the boat talking about Melissa’s feelings, which are generally nervous, scared, and just generally worried.
On cue, Jason says that he wishes he could say he had no doubts about Melissa, but because he didn’t get to meet her parents, he feels he doesn’t know her.
That doesn’t stop him from going in the hot pools, which judging from their reaction, were very very hot. Fortunately, they finally get their chance to talk about Melissa’s parents. The two ponder why her parents did not want to be a part of this extraordinary, reality TV experience. Imagine that. Jason does say he can fall in love with Melissa without meeting her parents, but it can only go so far.
That evening, Melissa and Jason meet at downtown Queenstown where it looked like Melissa was freezing. At a restaurant downtown, they get their own private room. Unfortunately, the parents continue to dominate the conversation. Melissa is the first girl not to demand her Fantasy Suite before Jason can offer it.
Back at the suite, Melissa talks more about how scary this situation is. I’m starting to wonder if these two have forgotten how to talk to one another. In between “you knows” and “ums,” Melissa finally manages to sputter out, “I have absolutely fallen in love with you, head over heels,” and before she can get another few words out, Jason kisses her. Thank goodness. Jason tells us he can finally open up to her now that he knows that.
Before the Rose Ceremony
Jason can see himself with each of the three girls, but they’re each so different. At this point, he has no idea who he’s going to send home.
Chris Harrison and Jason catch up on Jason’s time in New Zealand. Jason got what he wanted out of Jillian; Jason finally got Molly to open up somewhat; and finally, Jason is still worried about not having met Melissa’s family, just in case you hadn’t surmised that yet from this entire episode.
Finally, the ladies taped some video segments to give their final pitch to Jason. First up: Jillian:
“Hey Babe--” Babe again!! “I just wanted to say thank you so much for every moment I’ve shared with you and for showing me how it is to fall in love again. I’m in awe of you and how you’ve turned a life of adversity into such a positive life. I know that we fit each other—our families, our attitudes—and if we are together, we’re share a life of laughter and home cooked meals!” (I’m going to hope that they had some sort of insider convo we didn’t hear about home cooked meals because that last bit was confusing.)
Next up, Molly:
“Haaay, Jaaay. Recognize the view? Get it? We went bungee jumping! I just wanted to thank you for an incredible date. You made it easy for me to open up with you, and I cannot wait to spend more time with you. I can tell you that I am madly in love with you so I can’t wait to see what happens next.”
Next up, Melissa:
“Hey you. I just wanted to tell you that, um, I want to thank you, um, for making it so easy to be me around you and making it so, um, easy to talk to you, and um, fall in love with you. You know I’ve been basically freaking out all week, but spending the day with you helped reaffirm everything for me. Thank you for being you (he said this once to her, remember that?). I miss you, and I love you.”
Jason offers some final thoughts. “I’m falling for three girls who could be great in Ty’s life and in my life. I don’t know how I am going to break someone’s heart today. But I’m not here for a six month relationship or a three-week relationship. This will be one of the toughest things I’ve ever had to do.”
Most Dramatic Rose Ceremony Ever (Again)
Chris Harrison greets the ladies, thanks them for spending their time in New Zealand and gently reminds them that one of them will be on a plane heading home tonight. When Jason finally comes out, he looks a lot like he might throw up all over Chris Harrison.
“You—“ he begins, swallows and starts again. “You three are the most amazing women I’ve ever met. I’m falling for all three of you for different reasons. But tonight I have to do the most selfish thing I’ve ever done and send one of you home tonight. Thank you for sharing this with me.”
One rose goes to Melissa, who can go one more week sweating it and talking about how nervous she is.
The other rose goes to Molly, and my jaw literally hits my chest.
Poor Jillian breathes heavily and tries to smile.
“I’m sorry,” Jason says. “I don’t want you to ever doubt that I don’t have strong feelings for you because I do. I’ve never met anyone like you before. I think our lives are a little bit different. You’ve got an amazing life, and I won’t be able to keep up with you and you deserve someone you can.”
Jillian responds that her adventures were because she was single and she was looking for the right person and she thought she had found him.
Jason brings Jillian back to her talk of finding her best friend, saying that that was the path they were on—best friends.
Jillian responds that at the end of the day, or when you’re 90 years old, you’re going to want to be with your best friend.
Jason snips that it’s your best friend AND MORE.
Jillian slaps her forehead, cries “You got it, Sherlock!” and then says she thought they did have friendship and more. Then she tells him that she has fallen in love with him and shares with him a dream that she, Jason and Ty were all a family. “But at the end of the day, I’m not looking for what I did right or wrong because I was myself. And I’m looking for someone who loves me for me,” Jillian concludes. Gotta love this girl—can we say next Bachelorette? Can we just continue sending the cast-offs to the next rounds? Cause seriously.
In the limo, Jillian says that she was jaded before coming to this show, but she learned that she could love, she wore her heart on her sleeve, and this was not how she wanted it to end. “I have not had it easy my entire life, so I do not expect,” she says. “I didn’t expect anything. I thought maybe one day I’d have that fairy tale ending, but this decision that he made today broke my heart.”
Back at the winery/hotel/lodge place, Jason cries a bit, but then tells us he just wasn’t in love with Jillian. At the end of the day, Jason tells us that there are two girls he is falling in love with and he cannot wait to introduce them to Ty. “Here’s to another week in New Zealand spending time with my family!”
I'd like to take this short moment to just throw out a PSA that these two girls are 24 and 25 years old. Jason first got married in 2003, back when these two ladies were 17 or 18 years old. I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around these ladies being ready for stepmom-hood, but whatevs.
And next week, it’s the reunion show you won’t want to miss, Chris Harrison tells us. And in TWO weeks, it’s the most dramatic season finale ever with awkward moments with Ty, some rolling around in beds, some more shots of Jason’s abs, DeAnna’s return, some really ugly crying on balconies, and apparently something so dramatic that only Chris Harrison could be involved. All I have to say is that whatever it is, it better redeem this season, ABC!
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Yeah, it's cold here; No, I didn't vote for Blago.
Of course, Kurt and Forbes are schilling—like so many journalists and struggling media enterprises--coming up with arbitrary lists (Remember the 25 most influential liberals in media? Wasn’t that in Forbes just last week?), hoping to stir up reaction from readers, scrounge together some online page views for measly ad dollars, and pretend that money mag Forbes is above everybody else’s miserable money problems. Oh yeah, Chicago has such a high employment rate. Nevermind the fact that Forbes just consolidated all its departments into one and rumors of layoffs have been swirling about its news desks for months.
So, Kurt, what makes Chicago so terrible?
"Lousy weather, long commutes, rising unemployment and the highest sales tax rate in the country are to blame for the Windy City being near the top of our list. High rates of corruption by public officials didn't help either."
Yes, and the subway smells in New York, there’s smog in L.A., frozen corpses lie scattered in Detroit, Disney laid people off in Orlando, and former President George W. Bush has returned to Crawford, Texas, so let’s throw all those spots on the list too!
Kurt doesn’t bother addressing the flippantly-mentioned commute issue (Yeah, the CTA isn’t the MTA, but it’s not like Chicagoans are taking rickshaws to work.), doesn’t bother pointing out that rising unemployment seems to be a trend outside the Chicagoland area, and makes a weak barb at the weather we had here in January (Seventeen below, har har har!). Instead, he focuses most of his argument against Chicago on our sales tax and corrupt politicians. While they’re legitimate arguments, I don’t think an inflated sales tax and a few crappy governors (Sarah Palin, anyone? Did Wasilla make the list too?) warrant tacking a big fat #3 on Chicago.
But go ahead, Kurt Badenhausen and Forbes Magazine, call us whatever you want. You were bound to leechily suck some measly page views out of your Miserable City Song and Dance Routine (Did I mention they made a slideshow out of the article too? Be sure to click through every single picture of every single city!), so congratulations on all your success. For Chicago, it may be a welcome blow since all that sing-song praise we got last fall, fueled by our continued nomination for the 2016 Summer Olympics and Barack Obama’s golden November. Even another magazine, FastCompany, named Chicago 2008’s City of the Year with a beautiful article penned by my former teacher Alex Kotlowitz. Alex wrote a bit more than a list to pay homage to the soul that is this city—something that Forbes and Kurt might want to consider.
But let’s stick instead with this #3 Most Miserable rating. That’s right, America. Chicago is the pits. We’re worse than Detroit, than Cleveland, and probably than your town too. We’re terrible. Stay away. Don’t move here, and should you have to visit, keep it short. Us Chicagoans will suffer our sales tax, our governors, our bone-chilling winters and soul-lifting summers, our fattening foods and expansive lakefront, our arts scene and music world, our diverse neighborhoods and beautiful architecture, our industrial proud past and our incredible innovative future alone. We’ll bear that burden just fine, and if Forbes can help us continue to weed out the New York lackeys like Kurt who should stay away and keep the general city population down, we’ll appreciate the help.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
The Bachelor: Jason: The hometown episode!
It must be said in the over-inflated rehashing of The Bachelor, the sound mixer has really, truly improved. That Schindler's List-esque violin during recollections of Stephanie's goodbye really could pull some heartstrings.
Welcome to British Columbia, Canada! Jason is glad he finally got to see Jillian’s soft side but he still isn’t convinced that she’s here for him. Seriously? Who does Jason think he's kidding? Jillian woos Jason with stories of her close encounters with Canada’s own lochness monster, Ogo Pogo.
The two then share a trip to a winery, which Jason tells us is beautiful but NOT AS BEAUTIFUL AS JILL. Awwwwwww!!!!
Jillian, having gotten the monster part of the visit out of the way, opens up about why she feels the need to be strong and her family’s issues with her mother’s depression. Jason naturally responds with some concerned nods and then jumps on his opportunity for a makeout session.
When it’s time to meet the family, the whole clan is hanging oot in the living room with their Canadian flag. “Ooh, weelcoomme, Jaaasonnn!” The whole fam gets a good giggle oot of Jillian’s silly hot dog routine. Everybody joins hands and sings O Canada in roond.
Peggy gives a toast to her daughter Jillian, which starts a little rough, but the moment where she said that diamonds are made under pressure kind of caught my throat a bit, I won’t lie.
Peggy pulls the dreaded mother-in-law routine, pulling Jason ootside to ask him her toilet paper full list of questions.
Ma Canada: What are your responsibilities in a marriage?
Jason: To be a partner, Ma Canada. Duuuh. And mustard!
Ma Canada: How do you handle conflict?
Jason: I’m a listener.
Ma Canada: That’s good to hear. You have a BA in psychology, right?
Jason: Uhh, yeah!
(Awkward laughter.)
Jillian and Tori, who has been moonlighting as hot young teacher on Gossip Girl (xoxo!), gossip about Jason while he’s out with Ma Canada. Jill gets teary-eyed telling her cousin how much Jason has come to mean to her.
A little bit later, Ma Canada pulls Jillian close to her bosom and Jill again becomes overwhelmed with emotion describing her feelings for him.
Glen and Jason spend some dude time together in a creepy utility closet. Glen, revealing where Jillian gets her happy-crying, tears up as he tells us just how much Jillian means to him. I grab the Kleenex and pull it closer.
Surprise! Granny arrives. Gramma Marjorie says Jason is a gorgeous specimen of man, and thankfully she no longer has to sell Jillian for beaver pelt to a Ukranian man in the northland. Granny also brings the funnies with a pair of Joe Boxer Canadian flag boxers. I am thoroughly impressed.
When it’s time to leave, Jason asks us how he could possibly ever leave Jill and her family in his future?
Country Clubs, Floppy Hats and Art, Oh My! in Grand Rapids, Michigan
Remember when Jason and Molly first met and they bonded over golfing? Well, fortunately, Molly’s super-selective family has an exclusive membership to the neighborhood country club. They spend more time on their kissy picnic than chopping away at the course with their nine irons.
Once Jason and Molly finally pull up to Molly’s fam’s house, it’s clear that the family lives right there on the green with a nice view of the ninth hole from the living room window. After settling down and first introductions, Maryann pulls out some major hats to test Jason’s funny bone. Saddled with the Indian headdress, Jason is tested yet again as Maryann decides to play psychiatrist, asking Jason to draw Molly’s face at his most favorite memory with her. When it’s finally time to leave, Jason says that he won’t get to see her for a while and he’s got a decision to make.
Doves Cry in Lake Elsinore, CA
Jason is ready to spend some time with his cowgirl ladyfriend, Naomi. I can’t help but wonder how this girl is still around. Naomi, in an attempt to prove me wrong, tells Jason just how ready for a life with him she is.
Every family is different, Naomi tells us, and mine is probably as different as it gets.
Oh yeah? Something more different than art time and floppy hats?
Joanne and Hector, Naomi’s parents who are separated, plus a bajillion kids who I could not keep straight are there to meet Naomi and Jason. Naturally, Joanne greets them with hula hoops. Here, things really go awry. As Joanne relays the story of hitting a dove with her car, one of the many children brings the be-paper-bagged carnage outside for a burial. Hector, eyes rolling in the background, thanks his lucky stars that he got out of this world when he did. Jason forces a smile through the whole thing.
Yes, congratulations, Naomi. Joanne has definitely taken the crazy award from Art Time Maryann.
After digging a shallow grave for Rosie the Dove, Hector and Jason get their dude time in the living room/family casino. Hector explains that he has risen above his divorce with religion, explains that Naomi has been raised with Jesus as her main man, and asks Jason to take a short test about marriage and the Bible. I am squirming in my seat.
No sooner does Hector have Jason reciting Corinthians before Joanne comes along to steal Jason away. I just begin to crawl out from under the couch in relief when Joanne starts talking about truth seekers and the color indigo. Jason cannot even hide his confusion in his face.
Meanwhile, Hector checks in for some dad-daughter time with Naomi to confirm her spiritual standing. Naomi wishes she and Jason had talked about religion before now. Though they may have had a moment to share these deep thoughts as Jason left, they opted for an intense tongue twisting instead. While they swapped spit, someone inside the house (I imagine one of the dozens of children) opened the door and definitely sneaked a peek.
The Disappearing Family in Dallas, TX
In Texas, Mel’s terrible, horrible, no-good, very-bad parents wanted absolutely nothing to do with ABC and no amount of coaxing from Chris Harrison could convince them otherwise. Instead, Mel had to sheepishly present her terribly good-looking, happily-married young couple friends (with kids, to boot!) to Jason as a consolation.
But no worries. This meet-up with friends followed all the same requirements of any hometown date:
Mel cried when discussing her feelings for Jason.
Children ran around happily.
Dude-time included some stereotypical dude-like element—in this case, pool.
And, last but not least, serious make-out time between Mel and Jason.
Back in Seattle, Jason has a lot to think about so Chris comes over to help work it all out.
Chris: So Jason, a lot happened this week.
Jason: Yeah, but I didn’t like how I couldn’t slam my tongue down the throat of each girl one after the other or say all their nicknames in a row. Jill-Mol-Nay-Mel. Jilmonamel. I was thinking of naming my second born that.
Chris: That’s good. How was your time with Jill?
Jason: Canada ROCKS. Grandma was AWESOME. And I freaking love the Canadian flag. But I’m just not totally convinced that Jill’s a match for me. (pause) Did you get that? OK, good. Cause we all know I’m actually totally in love with her.
Chris: We got it, thanks. How about Mol?
Jason: Oh, Molly and her country club membership-toting, hat-wearing, art-psychologist parents are just fantastic. They really showed me who Molly is—she’s a country club membership-toting, hat-wearing, art-psychologist. Did I mention that when I first got married to my ex-wife in 1998, Mol was totin’ braces in eighth grade? WEIRD, huh, Chris?
Chris: Uh, yeah, actually. That is kind of weird. What about Eva Mendes?
Jason: Um, well. Her family… was something… um… I didn’t… expect. They are… unique. And religious. And neo-spiritual. And unique.
Chris: Let’s just leave it at that. What about the Melster?
Jason: Well, I didn’t meet her terrible, awful, no-good parents since apparently not everyone is willing to open up their lives to ABC like me, am I right Chris? But I did meet her friends. So that’s cool.
Chris: Are you ready to let a lady go this evening?
Jason: Well, yeah. I hope I can still swap some spit before I ditch her, but basically I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.
After Chris leaves, Jason does some more deep thinking on the bow of the houseboat.
Rose Ceremony
This rose ceremony, ABC finally did it right at the hotel. No more of that presidential suite crap—we’re talking full-on banquet haaaaallll! Holla!
Jason: Hey laaaadies. I had such a great time this week. Mel, your friends are totally good-looking. Jill, you are SO your family, dude! Nay, your family is pretty nutso, but it’s okay. And Mol, your family is unbelievable, and by unbelieveable I mean they’re country club membership-toting, hat-wearing art psychologists. Anyway, you all mean the world to me, but here goes.
Roses go to:
Molly, who thanks her lucky stars that Mom didn’t scare Jason away.
Jillian, who Jason must continue to pretend he’s unsure of.
Melissa, whose non-existant family is apparently better than Naomi's eccentric one, the poor thing.
As they say goodbye, Jason let's his explanation loose: "It’s not that I don’t think you’re wonderful, and it’s not that your family is kinda out there. I just think that we’re in different places right now."
Naomi: Well, I am. I was hoping to hear you say that you felt more strongly for the other women, not that I am not ready because that’s just not the case.
Awwww, snap!
As she drives away, in more sweeping overhead shots of the exiting limo, Naomi tells us that she was ready to move to Seattle and settle down and that she didn’t want to have her heart broken again.
Jason bounces back for the champagne toast to the next week—here’s to New Zealand!! Now, finally! We know the reason behind the drastic scale-back in funding here. That’s it, ABC. There better be some really good audio mixing next week!
Thursday, February 5, 2009
The Weekend Weekend Weekender
So The New York Times has been running this ad pretty regularly on the east coast, much to the chagrin of TV watchers who are tired of it apparently.
So, naturally, a brilliant parody of it has cropped up, thanks to the 92nd St Y. "The Pictures of Goats Section!"
[via Gawker]
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
If I Never Kneeew Youuuuuu
I stayed up late Saturday night to watch as much of the Australian Open live as I possibly could. I made it until about 4:45 AM, when I realized that my body was shaking from being so tired. I slept for seven hours, got out of bed and rolled into the living room to watch the remainder of the match.
The end of the match--an anti-climactic moment marred by a yelling fan, in my opinion--left me feeling down, and I turned off the TV, so I missed the Federer-crying bit. I finally got up the courage to watch tonight. (It's here, if you want to see for yourself.)
Naturally, seeing my tennis idols all sappy-sad-happy at the same time made me very emotional, and I went on a Google Quest to find out more of their relationship. I don't have anything insightful to offer, but I DID find this incredibly hilarious video which perked me right back up. Pairing a love ballad from Disney's Pocahontas with a slideshow of pictures of two male tennis players playing tennis?? BRILLIANT! I absolutely, positively encourage your viewing of it. If you aren't into the whole 4 minutes, please skip to 3:20 and watch from there.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Live-Blogging The Bachelor: Jason, episode 5
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
The World's Most Unwanted Song is the bestest and funniest ever
Based off a poll of over 500 individuals that asked them what their most and least favorite aspects of music are, the staticians passed off the results to musicians who wrote the Most Wanted Song and the Most Unwanted Song. I've linked below to the streaming audio of the Most Unwanted song, which you really must listen to. People apparently hate children's voices, opera, communism, cowboy ballads, holiday tunes and George Stephanopolous. (The last one is understandable.) I've also included the lyrics below (click to expand), which are pretty hilarious. Just as an excerpt, my favorite lines:
"Easter Time! Easter Time!
Love, forgiveness, and the bunnies!
Easter Time! Chocolate Time!
Do all your shopping at Wal-Mart!"
According to the staticians' findings, fewer than 200 people in the world's total population will enjoy this song. Are you among them?
Listen here.
Yo I'm ropin' up my saddle
For the long, long ride
Every time I see the desert
There's something inside says
Yo! Yo! This is the life
Give me open land and a
Big ol' knife to get some
Bear, deer--even a snake
I light me a fire
Do the shake and bake
I say Yo! Yo!
I'm a cowboy now
The sun is hot and dry
Gonna rope me a cow
I say Yo! Yo!
I'm loose and free
Whoa there Nelly
You're the horse for me!
Rope 'em up boys
The desert is a callin'
Yahoo, yahoo, yahoo
Saddle up fellas
The desert is a callin'
Yahoo, yahoo, yahoo
Christmas time! Christmas time!
Jesus, Mary, and the manger
Christmas time, Family time,
Do all your shopping, at Wal-Mart!
Easter Time! Easter Time!
Love, forgiveness, and the bunnies!
Easter Time! Chocolate Time!
Do all your shopping at Wal-Mart!
Out on the plains
Just me and my mind
Took me a break
To read some Wittgenstein
Born in Vienna in '89
He obsessed with theories
Of language and time
Like the "Tractatus"
Where Ludwig would claim
"The logic of our language
Is misunderstood"
Philosophy is based
On a false pretense
So philosophy itself
Is nonsense, nonse!
Philosophy itself is non-sense!
Bedeutung ist tun
Es ist ein Sprachspiel
Nonsense! Nonsense!
Wörter sind Inhalt
Yahoo! Yahoo!
Yom Kippur! Yom Kippur!
Self reflection and atonement
Yom Kippur, that's what for
Do all your shopping at Wal-Mart!
Oh say can you--
Feel the embers glowing
And the turkey in the oven!
America!
Hear the children singing
There's a turkey in the oven!
Rockets red glare!
Candles are so pretty
And a turkey in the oven!
Do all your shopping at Wal-Mart!
Buy spurs that jingle at Wal-Mart!
Ramadan! Ramadan!
Lots of praying with no breakfast!
Ramadan, so much fun!
Do all your shopping at Wal-Mart!
It's home, home
On the big ol' range
Yipee tai oh
Get along there stranger
Rope 'em, ride 'em
Shoot 'em up good
We're big and bad
In the cowboy 'hood
I say Yo! Yo!
Got a river to ford
With a life like this
I never be bored
I say Yo! Yo!
I'm wild and free
Whoa Miss Kitty
You're the gal for me!
Whoa Miss Kitty
I say whoa there
Whoa Miss Kitty
Yahoo! Yahoo!
Labor Day! Labor Day!
Schools are closed and
Pools are open!
Labor Day! All the way!
Do all your shopping at Wal-Mart!
Oh say can you--
Grandma's on the phone
Go and tell her that you love her!
America!
Daddy's on the phone
Go and tell him that you love him!
The Golden Land!
Sister's on the phone
Go and tell her that you love her!
Do all your shopping at Wal-Mart!
Veteran's Day! Veteran's Day!
Big parade with guns and soldiers
Veteran's Day! What's there to say?
Do all your shopping at Wal-Mart!
Halloween! Halloween!
Candy corn for lunch and dinner!
Halloween, what a scream!
Do all your shopping at Wal-Mart!
Look out there
It's an Injun band!
Coming this way
Gonna fight for my land
And build a home town
Grocery store
American cheese
Worth fighting for
Call it "dry gulch"
O.K. Corral
Holiday Spot
For you and your gal
To get some cool shit
And desert rays
Cowboy living' the American Way
It's a cowboy living
Go! Go!
It's cowboy living
Go! Go!
It's cowboy living
All the way!
Rope 'em up boys!
The desert is a callin'!
Yahoo! Yahoo! Yahoo!
Saddle up fellas!
The desert is a callin'!
Yahoo! Yahoo! Yahoo!
People! Coming together out of a
desire to obtain political power!
Vice Presidential Candidate! Twenty-
seven electoral votes! Central policy
issues! Two party system! Struggle!
Gain control of the government! Executive
branch! Military branch! Foreign affairs!
Influence policy! Promote ideology--
fascism! Promote individual interests--
George Stephanopoulous! Imelda
Marcos! Promote special interests--
Sugar! Beef! Bananas! Lumber! Pork bellies!
Pork barrels! Coca-Cola!
The information superhighway! Three
thousand years of oppression!
Who enslaved humans of color? Who
invaded the Carribbean? Who
murdered all the innocent children?!
You did! You! You! You!
It may be you
It could be me
It's not enough
To wait and see
And when we all
Lock arms and sing
Then bells of freedom
Ring ring ring ring