There has of late been a great love for tests, tests for all sorts of people. I think this is great. Why, imagine how simple life will be when we are thoroughly tested in everything! There won't be any more arguments or strife - a simple comparison will suffice to quell any dispute.

I would like to help out with my own modest contribution, a formula for determining general knowledge.

ALEX'S AMAZING GENERAL KNOWLEDGE TEST:

1) Please enumerate all facts that you know. Add one point for each fact. This is sum A.

2) Sum B is the total amount of knowledge. Since the univese is infinite, knowledge must likewise be infinite, so B stands for infinity.

3) A/B will yield your index number, and multiply by 100 to get your percent rating (C)

Now we have one easy number to compare everybody! Who's the smartest person in the world? Why, it's just the person with the highest C! Should you vote for George W or John Kerry? Just find out who has a higher C (or, if you're suspicious of smart politicians, who has a lower one)! What could be simpler?
10:34 PM

One day the sun stopped and the clocks kept going
and everyone agreed
that this meant a lot

One day my sun stopped and the clocks kept going
and it certainly seemed
that this meant a lot

but luckily

my sleep was on the clock and
my work was on the clock and
my love was on the clock and
my food was on the clock and
my light was on the clock and
my fun was on the clock and
my life was on the clock and

so

we were wrong
it didn't really mean a lot


---


I haven't written anything in ages, but Brittany linked me to some Sylvia Plath and I linked her to some Rumi and with this poetry-fuck a poem was suddenly borne in my mind, and so I wrote it down.


PS I updated the TMBG post with a more appropriate song for the title.
4:20 AM

As a car-carrying member of the Senior class at Glenbard South high school, I carted a number of underclassmen and, well, losers without cars back and forth. And any one of them will tell you: I listened to a lot of They Might Be Giants. In fact, I listened to only They Might Be Giants. Over and over I listened to their records, memorizing every nuance of every song. Eventually I gave in and made the first of many downloads with Kazaa, but to this day They Might Be Giants far outclasses any other band on my playlist (TMBG has about 130 songs, the Pixies maintain a (distant) second place with a few over 60).

So, the question begs, why did I like them so much? It wasn't, let's be frank, their musical acuity. To this day I know very little about rhythm, structure, melody, or any of the other words I hear associated with music. I don't know what is a fascinating experiment and what is a pop cliche. If I'm trying to explain why I like something to someone (something I have to do depressingly often), I'll sometimes say "just listen to the chord progression!", and gauge their reaction. Generally this is met with flustered ignorance, but in case it's not I sometimes quickly add "and just listen to their innovative structure!". Since I don't know what either of those terms mean and neither do most of the people I argue with, the conversation is generally ended here.

And it's not like I have some wild untamed musical ear, either, Pitchfork, which uses words like chord progression and innovative structure like normal men use conjunctions, called John Henry (incidentally, my favourite album) "one of the least interesting albums of all time". They also gave Mink Car a 2.8, which seems like unnecessary salt in the wound when the damn thing was released September 11, 2001.

So, reluctantly accepting that They Might Be Giants are just not the musical heirs of Beethoven or Bach, the most common theory advanced by horrible people is that I like them because they're weird. It is the pasttime of many people, in high school especially, to say that people acting outside general norms are just doing so as a perverse route to being cool. Needless to say, I don't like this theory. Assuming people's motives to be other than the stated ones without good reason has always bothered me, especially when it's done to me.

I also feel my stance on hot topic, drugs, and rebellion in general extricates me from this horrible indictment.

I don't actually have a reason why I like They Might Be Giants. This whole thing was just to be a segue comparing their songs to my own feelings nowadays, but it grew beyond my control, so I'm just putting it to an end now, and starting over without any segues:

They Might Be Giants have a sort of happy-go-lucky nihilism, and so do I.

with all those segues I don't really feel like writing any explanations, either. This whole update has come to disgust me. I'm ending it here and now.
4:20 AM

It's said that war is the health of the state, and we all know this is true. It's also said that elections are the health of the anarchist, and this is just as true. It's easy for the anarchist to get downcast in an age when capitalism and the state seem stronger than ever, but every four years such a mockery is made of the whole thing that the anarchist cannot help but feel chipper.

For four years the anarchist will tell anyone who'll listen that the system is a sham, and for three years he is shrugged off. The fourth year, though, the anarchist can take it easy. Kick back, drink some lemonade, and watch as the ridiculous process for choosing leaders make anarchists of us all. Who could have faith in a system that dredges up John Kerry and George Bush as the best possible candidates for running the world? Who could watch the parallel press releases called debates (as George Will puts it) and not have their inner anarchist emboldened?

Elections make it clear: respect the system, or respect yourself. You can't do both.
9:23 PM