Iraq Forever

A friend of a friend was killed in Iraq a few hours ago. It keeps happening, this is the third.

I don't know him, I barely know the friend... but... why?

I wish we could sit and look at trees.

Bikes and Bridges

I was at this cafe the other day, sitting under that painting, reading and writing, as I tend to do. This girl sits down with some sort of weird cheese and tomato based English sandwich at the next table over. The Bodelein's opening in a few minutes, so I start packing to leave.

"You're not from here, are you?" Says the girl, in an American accent modified by a year or two in Oxford.

"Nope, the States actually. How'd you guess?"

"Well. You aren't wearing any shoes. You've got a 'North Face' backpack. And your computer's using an American adapter."

There's some small talk as I finish packing up, meticulously. She's a full time student here, studying Philosophy and something like History of Religion. I couldn't really keep my mind together during the conversation, as I had the paper due in a few hours, and hadn't really written anything except a paragraph or two in the cafe. She's got a pretty good smile, and an eagle's approach to maintaining eye contact. Anyway, I left.

I generally assume that interesting people (or interesting to each other at least) tend to meet up again and again. So, that's something to keep an eye out for.

Did you know I won some sort of poetry award recently? I asked the school for more information, but they're not talkin'. Do they realize that I didn't actually submit any poetry to the Tower?

Would one of you mind turning in one of my stories for this semester's Tower?

Radio Gaga with Prisoners

This video was recorded and posted by a Filipino prison warden. He's got a few more of his prisoners dancing.

The Philippines are a happy country.

I Am the Internet's Gift to You

Turned in my first paper at 11 this morning, discussed/debated for the next hour.

Got home, drank celebratory 2 glasses of wine with lunch. Finished watching Enter the Dragon. Thought about starting Stephen Hero. Estimated plan for day = read hundred pages of Stephen Hero, make notes, eat meager dinner, meet up with people in way East Oxford, go to pub with people, wake up the next morning.

Instead, I fell asleep. Wine, sunshine, and kung-fu all combine to make a sleepy Ben.

Woke hours later, made dinner.

Walked down to way East Oxford with roommate, met other people. Climbed onto roof of their house, demonstrated proper way to jump from rooftop to ground. bought some beers at Tesco's. Drank beers. Convinced group of guys that beer was for sissies; lead group to pub.

Got some whiskeys, sat and talked to drunk philosophy majors and homeless people. (Basically indistinguishable)

Insisted I could find my way home. Asked kind stranger to point West, started walking in that general direction. Got hungry, started eying rubbish bins for food. Search proved fruitless. Instead of food, found unchained bicycle and unbroken bar glass. Took these items home, stashed them away from prying eyes.

Got naked, checked email.

Am currently writing this thing.

Stars n' Bars

Increasingly, as I sit under trees in foreign parts, I wonder what I'm doing living in America. I don't agree with my country's politics, I don't agree with most opinions held by the majority, and I'm not particularly attached to my home city of Atlanta.

Really, the only thing tying me to America is the superiority of the State-side music scene, vague worries about antisemitism abroad, and my coveted group of great American friends.

Am I missing something?

Why shouldn't my senior year at Oglethorpe be the last one I spend in the States?

So It Goes

Vonnegut's dead. And he's looking down on us from heaven.

Archive of Vonnegut's contributions to In These Times.

This is an exerpt from another great American writer's work:

And the Bird was blowing a final chorus, high, and the set wouldnt end, but the Bird would slowly fade and you would never know when he really stopped and the sounds would hang and roll in your ear and all would be love - Quoth the Bird Evermore - and the flames bowed and licked the edge of the candles and even Harry didnt fight lethargy and try to break the spell and Georgette lowered the books to her lap with full dramatic presence and the final words still whirled with the light and stayed in the ear as the sea in a shell and Georgette sat on a wondrous throne in a wondrous land where people loved and kissed and sat silent together, holding hands and walking through magic nights and Goldie got up and kissed the Queen and told her it was beautiful, simply beautiful and the guys mumbled and smiled and Vinnie struggled with the softness he felt, trying honestly, for a second, to understand it, then let it slide and slapped Georgette on her thigh, gently, as one does a friend, and smiled, at her - Georgette almost crying seeing the flash of tenderness in his eyes - he smiled and groped for words, battling with his boundaries then saying, Hey that was alright Georgie boy, then the knowledge of his friends being there, especially Harry, forced its way through the bennie and the mood and he sat back quickly, took a drink and grabbed a smoke from Harry.

-Hubert Selby Jr, Last Exit to Brooklyn

Zack, I think you'd really like this guy.

Oxford, Continued

An American who'd been teaching at Oxford for the last 40 years gives a speech about the difference between our two countries.

His assesment of the lower classes:

"They just expect to get taken care of by the government. This crisis with our troops being captured by Iranians is great for them, like someone just delivered a big box of Viagra to their door. Hmmmm... eh... Yes. Yes. Using them of course, the Viagra I mean. That is what you do, I'm given to understand."

About half of his speech was composed of him mumbling "hmmmm" or "ehhh" or agreeing with himself by mumbling "yes, yes really".

That was the highlight of the speech, but he's also president of the program, so I'm sure we'll be hearing from him again.

I ate a pasty for lunch. It was meat, potatoes, and onions inside bread. I think I've died and gone to heaven.

Need a Shower

I'm in London, in a park. Coffee houses here don't give me free internet.

Fuck I'm hungry.

Where does one go to get cheap food around here? Everything is the same price as in
America, but they use pounds, so their 1.65 cup of coffee works out to something like 3ish dollars. Foreign countries use foreign currency?!?

Need a Shower

I'm in London, in a park. Coffee houses here don't give me free internet.

Fuck I'm hungry.

Where does one go to get cheap food around here? Everything is the same price as in
America, but they use pounds, so their 1.65 cup of coffee works out to something like 3ish dollars. Foreign countries use foreign currency?!?