Son of Poseidon

I think it would be best for everyone if they just STFU'd about Michael Phelps taking a couple of bong hits. You know? How ridiculous is this story? Come on, folks, read a book. Yes, smoking weed is unhealthy - just like smoking cigarettes and eating Big Macs. Just like BOTOX and DRINKING COCA COLA. In fact, marijuana is less harmful than cigarettes, no one has ever died from using marijuana, and actually helps sick people feel better. But no - pot is illegal, therefore it's bad. Right? Who told you it was bad? The government. Society. Your parents. So when Michael Phelps chooses to do something with his own body, people who have never met him (and have most likely never used marijuana) come forth in ignorance and condemn him for something that, believe it or not, is not really that bad. It's quite ridiculous. How would you feel if your boss suspended you from your job because someone leaked a picture of you eating a fried Snickers Bar? You'd probably be pretty pissed off - hey! I can eat this lard-covered Snickers Bar if I want to! This is America, and this is my body! I know this Snickers Bar is going to make me fat as hell and cause my heart to implode, but it's tasty! Right? But those same Snickers-devouring, lard-eating, tobacco-smoking, alcohol-consuming people are the first to jump on the "Fuck Michael Phelps" bandwagon. "Boo hoo, Michael Phelps is supposed to be a role model for our precious children!"

That's another thing. Something tells me that Michael Phelps didn't sign up to be a role model for your stupid kid. I doubt that he trained 23 hours a day since he was born so that he could impress your spawn. The media forced him into the "role model" slot because he is an awesome athlete and because that's what the media does with people - stuff them into roles that may or may not even fit them. Yes, Michael Phelps probably has an idea that a lot of kids look up to him, but is that his responsibility? Is he obligated to act in a way that is acceptable to the rest of society just for the sake of some sheep kids who may think he's cool? I don't think so. What if Michael Phelps had been pictured drinking a beer? Maybe some weepy parents would have whined about it for a week or so, but I highly doubt that he would have been suspended for three weeks. It's just absurd nowadays that such a stink can be made over an issue so completely manufactured, a scare tactic precipitated by a government that is too scared and too greedy to let its people know the truth.

Help me

Man, I am sitting in the coffee shop at school and they are playing a Decemberists song. I haven't listened to them in a long time and I sort of forgot about them for a few months. But now I just remembered how excellent they are. They...they're just so good. Speaking of good, I think I love Barack Obama. I mean, it's different than other politicians that I like. There are other leaders that I really like and respect and I like to see them on television. But...I FUCKING LOVE Barack Obama. I...I want to give him gifts and stuff. I want to invite him over for dinner. I think he's handsome. I may need to seek help.

Happy Birthday, Mo'Nique!

I'm feeling very strange. Do you ever do that thing where you think about what your life would be like if you had done something different in the past? And then you think about the possibility that your life would be better or different if you had done the other thing? And then you tell yourself that's dumb, because it's purely speculation and there's that thing about the grass being grassier on the other side? And then you think yeah, but what if I'm right? And then you just feel really frustrated that you can't create another dimension in which you can live your life the way it would be if you'd done one thing, and then in this dimension you could still live your life as if you'd done this thing, and then you could go back and forth between the dimensions so that you could monitor the quality of both lives and then decide on the one you think is better, or just maybe maintain both dimensions forever so you could essentially live two lives and have the best of both worlds? I do.

My hair was really big today.

What the fuck?

A week ago today, my cousin Adam passed away. Sunday night I got a text from my mom saying that his brother and dad had admitted him to the hospital with some mysterious illness. Monday morning, they diagnosed him with decreased liver and kidney function, but made no comment on his chances of recovery. Monday night, they said he was in the last stages of cirrhosis and there was no hope. Tuesday morning, he was taken off life support, and by 3:15 pm, he was dead.

A complex and dramatic web of family animosity is still brewing and it won't do to describe it here. Suffice it to say that the past week has been strange and exhausting. I haven't had the moment that most normal people probably do, the one where you are supposed to realize that someone is REALLY GONE, but the pervasive thought that keeps arising in my head is simply "What the fuck." Adam and I were close when we were younger, and he continued to be the cousin I connected the most with. Even though he was 13 years older than me, we could still always find things to talk about at family gatherings that no one else seemed interested in -- Family Guy, Danzig, stupid shit we did when we were younger, things we were mad at people about. Family Christmas parties were always boring, but if Adam was there, we could slip away from the geezers and go outside to smoke and talk shit. Why not? We were the funny ones in the family, the ones with the quirky sense of humor. I almost didn't go to last year's Christmas party when I heard that Adam wasn't going to be there; what's the point? I made Jay go to the previous Christmas party just so he could meet Adam -- "You'll love him. Once when I was little he held me upside down until I threw up spaghetti all over the linoleum." What the fuck? There's a comic book store here in Boone called Plan 9 comics. In preparation for last Christmas, I was planning on going in there to see if I could find something for Adam. When I learned he wasn't coming into town, I didn't. But every time I would pass by the store afterwards, I would think, "I should still go in there. I bet I can find something for Adam," but I never had time. Last night I passed by Plan 9 on the way to the grocery store and thought, "I bet I can find something for Adam in there," followed closely by "What the fuck?" After Adam died, his mom, my aunt Linda, adopted his boa constrictor. Its name is Belial, but Linda is renaming her Betty "because Belial means Satan." I wanted to keep her, but for some reason I was vetoed, even though I'm the only one who could feed her a mouse this weekend. I wouldn't have changed her name. What the fuck?

Never talk about Fight Club

Well, it is snowing like a bitch here in Boone. That's exciting, but of course I still have class. I like most of my classes individually, but it's hard to go through a whole day of sitting inside listening to someone talk about stuff someone else wrote in a book. Especially when it's snowing.

Halloween is Friday and apparently there is a big fat party on Hippie Hill downtown. I was going to dress up as Pyramid Head, but I have had no time to work on my costume yet and Pyramid Head requires a lot of work so I've abandoned the idea. Now I think I will go as the bar of soap from Fight Club. I think all I will need to do is draw "Fight Club" on a pink pillowcase and wear some pink tights with it.

I am so lazy but at the same time I'm always busy. I have a lot of homework this semester. In fact, I have a 7-page paper due Thursday that I haven't started yet. It's so easy for me to get stressed out over shit. I feel like I never have time for anything.

Am I a bad friend?