Musing

Meijer Will Cure My Semi-Homosexual Decorations or Tis Not the Season for Pink The burning question of the season, which was formerly "What am I getting for Christmas?", has been replaced by a new question. This speaks directly to the heart of the holiday decorating season in St. Francis Room 102. It speaks across a span of who-knows how many years. It speaks to almost anyone who buys Christmas lights these days. The question: Who was the idiot who started putting pink bulbs in strands of Christmas lights? Questions like "What was this individual thinking?", "Is this person still alive, and if so, why hasn't he/she been offed yet?", and "Do we really want to know how gay this individual was?" all arise, but these are all secondary. Why pink? What was wrong with the simple red, blue, green, and yellow/orange? Hell, I'd rather have plain white lights decorating my room than a strand that is 20% pink. Even faded red ones ...

Commala-come-come, This Story Will Never Be Done or A Rare Thing Do not ever, ever, ever allow me to finish the Coda to the final book in Stephen King's Dark Tower series. Ever. The wordslinger himself warned against it, and reading part of the way in, I decided it was best to leave the story as it ended, because the direction the Coda was taking was not at all to my liking. Hile, wordslinger. Your request will be fulfilled. For the kingdom, the Tower, and the glory are Roland's, regardless of the ending. Say thank-ya, big-big.

A Shameless Plug or I Got Bored You may or may not have noticed that the Wine List disappeared yesterday. I'd like to say that it's gone to a better place, but to be honest, it was just getting too damn long to be a sidebar any longer. So Musing has branched out: four more pages of Ho-ey fun for the wHOle family. If you don't catch the movie reference that I couched the link in, you are no longer welcome here. So go on. Grab the fam, pull up some chairs for your lazy asses, and gather around the good stuff. You never know, maybe your kids will learn some new vocabulary words or something. For those days when you're high on the feeling of spinning the world like a basketball on your middle finger, I offer up my all-time favorite JPEG on earth:

Brutality or You Are Probably a Loser, But That's Okay Dear Everyone, Don't assume, by that title or through knowledge of how I run my life and relationships, that I am going to say that it's okay to be a loser, or an idiot, as long as you are happy with yourself and as long as you don't try impress that lifestyle of your own upon me. Don't assume that I am going to continue to be a tolerant, patient person. Take this, instead, as an invitation to walk right out my door, and if it hits you on the ass on the way out, I pray to whatever supernatural being that YOU believe in that it knocks some logic or some sense of reality in you. I have a new tolerance policy. Zero-tolerance. I have no tolerance for people who refuse to learn from the past. There are examples of people living like some of you do right now, both in your own past and in my past. I have done my best to show you what I have learned about the errors of my ways. I have done my best t...

I'm Joshua Holewczynski and I Approve This Message or The DoJ Endorses Football at Marian College Based on the seminar I attended this evening in the Library Auditorium, I believe the College has sufficient reasoning to go through with the Football Initiative that it currently being scrutinized. As a student, I had received the mistaken impression that this was "football for the sake of raising the vibrancy of student life on campus." I can't say how relieved I was to hear President Elsener say that the Initiative is merely a means to several, larger ends, including improving our academic profile. This was the only major concern or problem I had with the idea from the beginning. The idea of putting out several million dollars for a new stadium and several hundred thousand dollars in opening/operating expenses within the first few years when we have sinks that don't even work in our labs and cracks in our walls large enough to put our fingers in scared me...

On a Heartening Note... or This Is Really All There Is To This Poem, I swear Now hollow fires burn out to black,   And lights are guttering low: Square your shoulders, lift your pack,   And leave your friends and go. Oh never fear, man, nought's to dread,   Look not to left nor right: In all the endless road you tread   There's nothing but the night. ~A.E. Housman Just make sure you're packing a good deal of alcohol.

The 2004 Ho Music Awards Contestants This List Is Incomplete Here's a preview of the candidates as I see them now. Time is running out to make suggestions of your own! Feel free to comment on my selections or to add your own. Song of the Year Apocalypse, Please ~ Muse August and Everything After ~ Counting Crows Cold Hard Bitch ~ Jet Gravedigger ~ Dave Matthews There, There ~ Radiohead World Inside My Head ~ Sister Hazel Album of the Year Absolution ~ Muse Get Born ~ Jet Lift ~ Sister Hazel Retro Songs of the Year [Since this category includes all of the songs that make the list, I won't be publishing their names just yet. I have thought of more than just the one that I had up before, though.] Discovery Artist of the Year Dave Matthews Band Doves Muse Seven Mary Three Stone Temple Pilots [I renamed this category (it used to be New Artist of the Year) because there honestly aren't enough emerging bands that could possible ...

Reason #930,389 That I Am Not An English Major or Major Boredom Strikes on Election Night In a horrible judgement call on my part, I told several different people that I was going to publish the following poem/satire. It was great fun for the first half or so. Then it just all fell apart and became tedious for some reason. I guess I didn't realize how terribly long the original poem was. In any case, here it is - the uncut and unclean satire of the poem generally attributed to Clement Moore, "'Twas the Night Before Christmas." I call my version "'Twas the Night of the Election." Ignore any typographical errors, weak rhymes, and other defects - I admit they're there. 'Twas the night of the election and all through the States All the people were cursing while CNN replayed debates The chads that were hung from the punch-cards with care Would soon be torn off and discarded with a glare The candidates were nestled all snug in thei...