The Magic School Bus: The Movie

O, ye children of the nineties- Watch this.  And then watch it again.  And then, if you haven't been whipped into a froth of nostalgia yet, watch it a third time.

This gave me goosebumps, and now has a solid place on my List of Things I Wish Were Real.

The post was funded in part by the National Science Foundation, the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, and by viewers like you!


BONUS:  The video above spurred me to go all nostalgia town today, so here's another little something that might be touching to PBS viewers of my age group.

Join Or Die

I had honestly intended to write this post pre-election, but time slipped past and before I knew it we'd up and renewed our current Numero Uno's subscription plan; but I still think it's an important post, and I hope it will provoke thought in the five of you who read this blog.

I want to start by telling a story from the Book of Mormon which I've been thinking a lot about recently.  It takes place in Chapter 1 of Helaman, where a "serious difficulty" has begun among the Nephites.  Pahoran, their Chief-Judge, has just died and the matter of succession has become a hotly contested issue.

So the Nephites held an election - fair and democratic - and their were two different groups of people on the losing side.  One one hand you have Pacumenti and his followers, who "when [they] saw that he could not obtain the judgement-seat ... did unite with the voice of the people.", and then there was Paanchi, who was "wroth".  So wroth, it seems, that he whipped his supporters into such a frenzy that they staged a revolt.  It failed, and he was executed, but his shenanegans had done their work and a deep rift formed between the two political groups of Nephites.

Now we cut-away to the secret lair of Tubaloth, the Lamanite King, who's cackling and rubbing his hands together with malicious glee.  See, the Lamanites have some bones to pick with the Nephites, but until now the Nephites have been too strong to take on.  But now they're fractured and squabbling.  Enter Coriantumr - Nephite Dissenter, Lamanite General, "mighty man".  Channeling the essence of Hurrican Sandy, he sweeps into Zarahemla like a boss.

I'll let Mormon tell you what happened next. "Because of so much contention and so much difficulty in the government, that they had not kept sufficient guards in the land of Zarahemla... Coriantumr... did take possession of the whole city."  Boom roasted.

The ensuing war cost tens of thousands of lives and was the beginning of the Gadianton Robbers, which was the main reason the Nephites were eventually annihilated.

Okay, so cool story Rusden.  Lets all laugh and point at the foolish Nephites.  Poor scrubs totally set themselves up by being divisive and stuff.  ... I'm sure you see where I'm going with this.

What kind of society do we live in today?  Divided.  Seriously divided   We are bisected in a number of ways, but the obvious one that's been on many of our minds throughout the election season is politics.  There is a widening gap - bitter and rancorous - between people who label themselves Democrats or Republicans.  It's not enough for us anymore to disagree with a president or policy; we seem to genuinely hate the other side and anyone who roots for them and will do almost anything to bring them down.

Case in point: the poopstorm that was our reaction to the election.  I'm not privy to any assassination plots just yet, but I have seen people openly wish death on those with whom they disagree; and there are scores of people who are now "so totally moving to freaking Canada", which by the way is so totally what a bunch of Nephite dissenters did (also, I've really got to point out the thick irony of the plan of escaping Obama's socialism by moving to the most socialist country out there, where even the most conservative politicians are easily three times as socialist as Obama).  

In the past couple hours I've seen a steady stream of hateful, vitriolic, sometimes even overtly racist posts on FB. Declarations of sedition, violence, and insubordination have come from people I love and respect, and whom I know are good people and many good, faithful Mormons to boot.  
  
Folks, that just doesn't jive.  Not with respect for this country, not with common decency, and certainly not with the gospel of Jesus Christ.  

Bruce R. McKonkie said, "Disputations, debates, dissentions, arguments, controversies, quarrels, and strife or contention of any sort have no part in the gospel, they are of the devil.  The gospel is one of peace, harmony, and agreement."


Elder Ezra Taft Benson said, "There are some who ... are members of the Church but not in harmony with it. These people have a temporary membership and influence in the Church; but unless they repent, they will be missing when the final membership records are recorded."

Free societies need differing viewpoints and discussion.  Shouting down opponents on FB or in real life with labels and innuendo, and playing up your own loyalty and patriotism is effective in silencing the opposition, but that spells disaster to republics and democracies, since the genius of free societies is the wisdom that comes from compromise and discussion. We often forget that our own constitution – a document we consider inspired – was hammered out in just this way.


Lets go back to Helaman 1 for a moment.  Mormon's point in the book is to show the goodness of God and the foolishness of humankind.  As he unmasks the problems with Nephite society, it's easy to see how we're making the same mistakes today.  We just had an election.  One person won, others did not.  Some of the losing party are now upset and defiant, seeking to widen the divide instead of closing the distance.  And while we engage in these disputes our enemies take note of our weakness. Are we perfectly secure?  The Nephites certainly thought so until they got zerg-rushed by Coriantumr.

It's okay for us to take some time to sulk a little, to lick our wounds; but when that time has passed, it's our responsibility to reach across the aisle, shake hands with the fellow Americans and human beings whom we still disagree with, and commit to working together to built this great nation. If Romney had won, I hope that Obama's supporters would have done the same. It was Christ who said that a house divided against itself cannot stand.  If both legs are trying to kick the other in the butt we end up on the floor. 

Are you going to be a Pacumenti now or a Paanchi?  Time to choose up.

I hope this makes sense to the two of you who read this all the way through, and I hope I don't come off as too "soap-boxy".  I care an awful lot about the future of this country, and even more about the future of the people who live here.  I leave you with the sage advice of Rufus from Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure:  Be excellent to each other.

EXCLUSIVE FIRST LOOK AT THE SET OF STAR WARS EPISODE VII!

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Water Ballet From Hell

            Do you find that you're sleeping a little too well as of late?  That your dreams are of the innocuous stripe, i.e., old friends turning into llamas and eating your baseball hat, rather than full out, scream-yourself-awake nightmares followed by 15 minutes of sweating and shallow breathing interrupted by occasional anxiety-induced "whale flips" that rip the covers off your significant other?

My least favorite Burger King marketing campaign.

Well I just might have a remedy for that.

In Alaska, the only moments I had to watch the Olympics were at odd times, usually very early in the morning, and so the events that I was able to catch were generally the weird, quirky ones like race walking and horse-dancing (call it what you will, it's horse-dancing.).  I enjoyed this, since I've always held the opinion that the unknown events were much more interesting than many of the popular events.  Truth be told, there are a lot of relatively obscure sports out there that I think people would love to see in the Olympics.  Dwarf throwing is a very inclusive sport.  Fire eating merits consideration.  Eel wrestling would make good television.  I think the IOC could try harder; but I digress.

Strange events are a rootin' tootin' good time, but there was one event I saw that transcended mere oddness and burst into the realm of absolutely crap-your-freaking-pants terrifying.  They called it... Synchronized Swimming.

You probably know what synchronized swimming is, and you may have seen a little bit once or twice.  But have you ever actually seen synchronized swimming?  Have you?  Have you taken the time to notice the individual swimmers?  They are creatures of pure nightmare; born of the abyss and taking on forms that upon the first cursory glance appear to be human. For the sake of sanity your brain forces you to see them as human.  That illusion begins to slip once you really get a look at a swimmer up close.  Their terrifying alien-ghoul faces will imprint themselves on your brain.  "KILL IT WITH FIRE!" you will silently scream as the last vestiges of your sanity are extinguished.  From then on, a fear you never imagined will accompany your every waking moment; a fear only surpassed by the terrors that fill your sleep.  You will never take a bath again.

I've given you fair warning friends.  Below are some lunacy-inducing images of these synchronized demon water clowns someone found from the London games.  Gaze upon them, and never sleep again.

Now Playing: October 4

herefore music, being in it's very design a construct of heaven, and, possessing innately the capacity to enlighten, inspire, yea, even to soothe the savage beast, is therefore considered by me worthy of propigation and distribution by those in the happy possession thereof to the misfortuned and benighted among the populace.  Consequently, and with such a benevolent aim in mind, the vast expanse of the internet being so great and capacious a vessel as to allow mercurial transfer of melody in fleet-footed fashion, have I undertaken to dispense that which is but a mere exemplaritorial cross-section, of that music which is most lovely to hear, and is, as determined by myself, being of sound mind and hearty constitution, to be of rather good taste.  It was, and remains, insofar as I am able to warrant, my most closely-held wish, that you enjoy the following musical compositions and learn, as I have, to relish them.

So I was up late reading Common Sense by Thomas Paine last night, and I dig the guy's style.  Literary flows off the Heezee, yo.  I thought I'd try introducing this post T-Paine style, hope you slogged through it okay.  In case you didn't, I said, in essence:  Music is rad and good music should be shared.  The internet is a great way to do that so here's some stuff I'm into.  Hope you can dig it.

Been into a lot of Dubstep/Glitch Hop lately, and I'm still enjoying the folk/Indie scene.  Take a listen and find something you enjoy.

	Fleet Foxes - The Cascades Since their formation in 2006, the Fleet Foxes have been one of the most influential groups in the Indie Folk genre.  Truly beautiful music.  I've been listening to this song on repeat the last couple days.
	Savant - 8-bit Lightsaber Savant is easily one of my favorite Dubstep/Glitch Hop/Electro House artists.  Relatively new, he's cranked out 4 full-length albums in the last 10 months, and 8-bit Lightsaber is off of his latest album, Ism, which released last week. It's an infectious, funky dubstep track drawing heavily on a Chiptune sound.  Sounds a lot like Mizuki's Last Chance, which is another of my favorite Dub/Chipstep producers.
	Radical Face - Ghost Towns One of the projects of Ben Cooper, Radical Face is one of my favorite Indie bands.  Their most well-known song is Welcome Home Son, and if you haven't heard it, you should.  This song is from The Family Tree: The Roots, which is the first of what will be a trilogy of albums, with The Leaves and The Branches yet to come.
	Fleet Foxes - Blue Spotted Tail Another beautiful song from the Fleet Foxes, Blue Spotted Tail is pretty simple to fingerpick and it's always relaxing to play, like all of the Flee Foxes' stuff.
	The Weakerthans - Sounds Familiar I so much love the style and cadence of the Weakerthans.  There's genuine poetic depth in the lyrics, which are at once thoughtful and playful, and delivered in a wry, affectionate tone.  It's something shared by bands like They Might Be Giants and The Mountain Goats (some of my all-time favorites) that really speaks to me.

roozden scoot 3: buffalo bill's revenge

They’ve just announced the rules of how this works, and I gotta say I’m not too thrilled.  All of us present at the announcement got a BBW branded paper tray like the ones they serve wings in, and tonight starting at 8 o’clock, they’ll be giving everyone who’s awake a sticker to put on the trays every hour.  At the end, whoever has the most stickers gets a prize until all 100 are gone.  In other words, your position in line means zilch, and it’s possible for someone to show up at 8 PM, stay the night and still have a shot.  That reeks to me of an underhanded way of them trying to get as many people as possible to stay in order to drum up business.  If they started turning people away once there were 100 people in line there would only be 100 people here, but they want everyone to stick around thinking they have a chance.  I don’t like it.  Of course, I realize that I’m not entitled to anything here, and they make the rules, but the sign and all the advertising says that the first 100 people get free wings, not the first to amass 14 stickers.  I’m just sayin’.

Now, for some real liveblogging, because this is the future.

Update: 8:00 PM - The fun has begun.  I spent the day playing cards and chatting with my new buddies Ryan, Ammon, Lindsay, and Kami.  My dad swung by earlier and brought me food (thanks Dad!) and came back a few minutes ago to take my brother Cameron's place, since he got a boat last night but can't stay tonight due to work in the morning.  Which brings us to now, and the first sticker of what I can tell is going to be a long, long, night.

Update: 9:45 PM - 2nd sticker!!  They've got the speakers blasting popular tunes and will keep it up all night.  Blazing challenges continue.  Meanwhile, I play my guitar and watch episodes of Community on my laptop.

Update:  12:00 AM - 5th sticker and going strong.  Computer is dying so no more Community.  I've been waking my dad up every hour for a sticker, and soon we'll start taking shifts getting each other up.

Update:  2:00 - AM Overheard while waiting in the sticker line for the upteenth time: "This is exactly like being in a concentration camp!" - Some ignorant caffeine-addled teen girl who clearly would know all about being in a concentration camp.

Update: 3:00 AM - Time is blurry.  All our jokes are funnier.  Kid next door has a rat tail that I thought about cutting off earlier.  The more I think about it the bettter the idea seems.

Update: 5:00 AM - Was there a time before stickers and cardboard wing boats?  I... I don't remember.  I just don't remember anything.

Update: 6:00 AM - We are the undead, and every hour we rise, bidden by our buffalo masters to shamble forth to the doors.  The only sound is the rasp of our feet - some clad in shoes, others barefoot - dragging over the rough pavement.  When we have recieved our sticker, we return to our shallow canvas graves accompanied by Carly Rae Jepsen's 'Call Me Maybe'.  There we lie dormant until the hiss of the loudspeaker summons us again to life.  Maybe next time they'll be playing Mambo Number 5. ... again.

Update:  8:30 AM - WE MADE IT!!  We're about to get our last sticker and then our victory will be assured.  The sweet taste of free wings is already in my mouth.  People are getting lined up for the last time and the mood is pretty jovial.  Last update folks.  After this we pack up the tents and then get into another line, this time to get into the restaurant.  In two hours I'll be stuffing my face with the best wings straight from the herd on Antelope Island*!

*Not actually from the buffalo on Antelope Island.

roozden scoot 2: stairway to buffalo wing heaven

Well, the rain has stopped.

Apparently it saw that my resolve was unshakable and gave up.  I had water in my tent however, and so I ran into the mall to grab napkins (camping in a parking lot does have some benefits).  There were no napkins in the bathrooms thanks to those tree-smooching jerks replacing them with air-powered hand driers (pro-tip:  do not attempt to remove and transport wall mounted hand-driers.  Not all mall cops are loveable oafs like Kevin James.), so I went to the food court and turned my gentlemanly charm on at the hot-dog-on-a-stick place.  Scored myself some napkins, but when I returned to my tent I found they weren’t enough.  So then I did something really stupid.

I stole a roll of paper towels.

I was on my way back to the food court to the same joint prepared to ask for more napkins, but as I approached, I saw the one girl who was working there walk into the back room.  And there, right on the countertop, was a brand new roll of paper towels, which I assume she was going to clean something with.  Now, I coulda and shoulda just waited for her to come back and asked her for some, but my brain panicked and was like, “STEAL THEM NOW DO IT!!”  and without any conscious thought I snatched the whole roll and ran.  There must have been a couple dozen witnesses, and I can only imagine what they must have been thinking.  Probably they were wondering why.  I wondered the same thing as I rode down the escalator clutching my pilfered towels to my chest. 

[Update: several hours later]

It’s late now and the music and the kids in the tent next door are too loud to sleep, so I’ll update this again. 

Watching how this line has grown has been like watching the development of a civilization.  When I arrived in what I’m now calling Buffaloville there were a few loosely grouped tents and camp chairs, and as the population grew, so did the level of organization.  The tents now form neat, ordered rows, and they’re no longer the basic shelters of yesterday.  Where a visitor walking the street of Buffaloville once would have seen a tranquil group of happy campers talking and playing cards on simple camp chairs, he is now greeted by elaborate and imposing fortlike canvas and blanket structures surrounding groups of teens, too young and recently arrived to remember to storm of 5:22 PM, who  cluster in front of TV’s playing Call of Duty while deep Hip Hop beats blast from the speakers set up around the perimeters.  Even the street itself has changed.   Crisscrossing snarls of extension cords line the way and lead up to where one of the new yuppies found an outlet on the side of the mall.  This place has changed, and you may call me old-fashioned, but I say it’s not for the better.

This guy's beard was black when he started the blazing challenge

Ha.  But seriously.  There’s a lot going on here.  They’ve been having blazing wing challenges and doing other fun stuff to keep the natives (us) from getting restless.  I didn’t do the blazing wing challenge even though I’m starving, because I don’t have any water for afterwards and it’s not something you go into unprepared.  The challenge consists of eating 12 blazing wings in 6 minutes.  In case you are uninitiated, blazing wings are ungodly.  They’re so hot that for every one you order, BWW donates 10 cents to your locale fire department, and heaven help you if you make the mistake of eating one and then scratching an itch or touching your face or going to the bathroom within 14 hours.  Going to sleep now.  Will update in the morning.

roozden scoot: the quest for free buffalo wings

I’m lying on a blue sleeping bag with my backpack propping my head up while the sides of my drab, olive-green pup tent are whipping back and forth in the howling wind, and water seeps into the corners, rudely ignoring my polite reminders that this tent is in fact waterproof and would you kindly respect that.  On either side of me are other people in other tents, and we’re all in the middle of the Layton Hills Mall parking lot. And we’re all here while our tents try to blow away with us inside because in two days, on Labor Day morning, the new Buffalo Wild Wings franchise in Layton opens for business, and the first one hundred people there get free wings for an entire year.  Let me repeat that for emphasis.  One hundred people will be eating the best wings ever to not actually be grown on buffalo totally FREE for an entire year.  We’re talking the Kobe beef of buffalo wings here; among the most incredible foodstuffs known to man.  Klondike bars are awesome, but if you asked me what I’d do for a Klondike bar, I’d tell you that I’d perhaps exchange one US dollar for it, and no more.  But for a year of BWW, I would give a sponge bath to a transient, I would spend a day with Justin Bieber, I would delouse Bigfoot and braid all his body hair (or, lacking a Bigfoot, I would provide the same service to Robin Williams.).  Because it’s just that good. 

And so here I am, number 40 in line, with about 40 hours to go before the gates of Shan Gra La are laid open before me and I enter the land of blazing sauce and honey-mustard.  And with all that time to kill, I thought I might as well document my experience on my blog. 

My original plan was to get here early tomorrow afternoon (Sunday), since I figured most people would plan on arriving sometime Sunday evening, but since I wanted to be sure, I passed by the BWW while doing some other shopping this morning and to my surprise there were already three tents set up in front of the restaurant.  That made me realize that I wasn’t the only one who appreciated the phenomenal powers of these wings, and I knew I couldn’t afford to wait until Sunday if I really wanted this.

So I went home and packed as quickly and lightly as I could, and I arrived here around 3 PM, equipped only with a tent, sleeping bag, pillow, guitar, laptop, scriptures, and my iron will.
 

In the few hours in between me checking and coming back, the line had grown to about 38 people, putting me right around number forty.  I took my place on the eastern corner of the building and went about setting up camp.  This proved to be harder than I’d envisioned.

In my haste to pack I’d done a pretty slapdash job, and I’d grabbed the first tent I saw, which happened to be a large 8 man deal and proved to be impossible to set up in a parking lot.  The tent was constructed unconventionally, and the only possible way for the tent to stay up was for it to be staked down.  Since I didn’t have any concrete nails with me and the mall cops probably wouldn’t be too keen on that anyway, I ended up with a 2D tent instead of the 3D tent I’d wanted.  So I sat in my chair and chatted with some of the other people there until my brother arrived and dropped off a pup tent.

He was just in time, it turned out, as not five minutes after I’d set up and moved my stuff inside, a huge storm broke.  And it rages on unchecked.  Rain is drilling the tent with the force of buckshot and the wind, jealous because it can’t even eat delicious buffalo wings, is doing its best to make sure the rain blows at an angle that propels it up and into the tent.  But no force of man or nature can deter me.  I am impervious to the fury of the storm.  I will have wings, I will have them of no cost, and I will have them for a year.

Updates to follow.

A whole mess o' pichurs and suchlike

Here be some pictures from Alaska.  Some of them have captions.  You can biggify them with a single click of the mouse.  You cannot smallify them. Please to enjoy!

Massive batch of pictures, part 2

More various Alaska pictures.

w-w-w-whales!!

Q: What do you do if you get stuck inside a whale?  

A: Run around and around until you get all pooped out! 

I know, my wit astounds me too.  Just watch the videos of the whales we saw bubble feeding right next to us while we fished.  By the way, did you know that the Wholphin is a rare hybrid animal produced when you mate a dolphin and a false killer whale?  I also believe that the first Narwhals were the product of whales and unicorns, and although science has yet to find substantial evidence in support of my theory, it's only a matter of time.

A Word from the editor

It is the taste of shame, hot and metallic, that fills my mouth as I type this.  In the corner of the screen, the words “last updated 6/5/12” glower accusingly at me.  Has it really been that long since I’ve posted something here?  Now that I think about it that seems very possible.  My excuses shuffle reluctantly forward like the attornies of a death row inmate who’s guilty as Cain and bound to ride the lightning, ashamedly filing half-hearted appeals they know will be denied with snorts of incredulous contempt.  I have no excuses; I just haven’t made the time to write. 

No, that’s not totally true.  Several times I’ve had a good idea for a post and started to write it down, getting maybe halfway through before I run out of time and save it to my bloated drafts folder, where it sits in an elephant graveyard of other half-finished stories, each as useful as the dusty, half-assembled lawnmower that has sat in the shed since 1992, and about as likely to ever be completed.

Even this post, which is intended to be a summation of some of the shenanigins and goings-on that I should have been writing about but haven’t, has only a slight chance of being added to the glut of traffic on the information superhighway.  I’m writing it in the break room at work, having arrived earlier than my scheduled time, and I’m just about out of time.  Naturally, I intend most earnestly to finish it when I get off work today, and fully expect that I will do so.  Just as sincerely as I intended to finish every one of my other aborted posts that, now obsolete, crowd into my thoughts, morosely wagging their ghostly heads at me, chains a’clanking like the myriad ghosts of Christmas could-have-been. 

I’m now sitting in my bus in between runs.  I’ve got an hour before my next duty and if I can finish this I’ll post it when I get home and that’ll be an accomplishment.

So here’s a rundown of the things I’ve been doing lately:

1)      BURFDAE TIEM!!  June 11^th, 2012 was a big day for double digits.  It was the day I turned twenty-two. It was also my third consecutive birthday away from my family and friends.  Even though I’ve passed the point where birthdays aren’t a huge deal to me anymore, it was still a melancholy thought that it’d been so long since I was with my family for the anniversary of my birth.  Nonetheless, my birthday was awesome.  Nay, it was double awesome, surpassing tubular and approaching the level of radness known as da bomb dot com.  I had expected it to pass as did the birthdays on my mission:  like a fart in the breeze.  Instead, I had one of the most memorable birthdays ever.  I had to work, but that was a good thing since I had a tour and could make a big deal of telling my guests it was my birthday (and thus boosting my tip revenue).  After work, some friends had reserved tables at a restaurant I’d wanted to eat at for a long time and they’d decorated it all with streamers and balloons and junk.  During the meal, which 18 of my good friends attended, gifts and cards were given, gyros were eaten, and all in attendance reported joviality in abundance.  After the succulent supper was had, the birthday train trundled back to the driver house to watch my favorite most hated movie, Troll 2.  Yes, people love me enough to subject themselves willingly to Troll 2 (If you haven’t seen it, speak with me posthaste.  I will make the necessary arrangements).  There was also the spice cake that my friend Olivia baked me, the Spongebob piñata provided by the same, and lots of calls and texts from friends and family back home.  It was a supremely satisfying birthday.

2)      I’M ON A BOAT When I grow up I want to be, one of the harvesters of the sea, and when my days are done, I want to be, A FISHERMAN! –Primus.

One dewy morning in Alaska, there were no cruise ships in town!  Which meant that we got the day off.  So myself, Bob, Alex, Don and Olivia rented a skiff and went fishing in the ocean!!  It was just gobs of fun.  Double handfuls of fun.  Highlights included me catching a halibut (in addition to some rockfish and the largest frond of bull kelp in this neck of the galaxy) and seeing AN ENTIRE SMEGGING POD OF WHALES BUBBLE FEEDING NOT 15 FEET FROM OUR SKIFF OH MY GOSH IT WAS AMAZING LIKE ONCE IN A LIFETIME EXPERIENCE  AMAZING!!!  We got pictures and even a video, which will all be put up soon in it’s own post (don’t laugh!  I really am going to do it!) 

Um, yeah there was tons more stuff but I kinda don't have time and so it'll hafta wait until a later date, when I'm in a state where I'm feeling great, not so much on my plate, which I'll appreciate, like William Butler Yeats, born 1868, before the roller skate, in Ireland not Kuwait, but let us not debate, neither shall we berate, lest we become irate, and without thought misstate, with words we can't negate, this prose waxes ornate, like Nephi's golden plate, which Joseph did translate, and to his wife dictate, in New York (yes, upstate), at a fantastic rate, no time to recreate, he picked a running mate, and ran for head of state, of foes he had a spate, mobbers lying in wait, suffered a martyr's fate, now guards the pearly gates, and worlds he will create, in his final estate, with Emma his soul mate (maybe), and now at any rate, it's kinda getting late, my words must now abate, my twitching hands sedate, (with which I will equate), my swollen brain deflate, my lust for rhyming sate, because I've reached home plate, which doth my soul elate.  Peace. 

Guy on a buffalo

There are guys.  And then there are guys on buffaloes.  

From Bread-winnin' to bed-ridden: I'm sick again

Dear Everyone,

Remember how I was all sick and stuff but then I was getting better?  Yeah, well, scratch that last bit cause I'm back to being sick.  Worse than ever as a matter of fact.  It's one o'clock here right now and in two hours I'll be celebrating the 2-day anniversary of my marriage to my bed.  I haven't left it since I got home from work at 3 o'clock on Tuesday, except to go to the bathroom and once yesterday evening to say hi to some well-wishers and stare morosely at a plate of spaghetti and meatballs.

I'm calling in sick today, but didn't have to yesterday since it was a day off for everyone, on account of there not being any cruise ships in town.  It was also my first day off in 24 days, which I can't help thinking has something to do with my being sick.  Lately we've been busier than a one-legged man in a butt kicking contest around here.  We've had four ships in almost every day, which usually means waking up at 4:30 and working a 10-12 hour shift with no breaks.  Just about everyone has has a couple days off interspersed into the madness, but somehow I was overlooked.  And so I was really looking forward to yesterday as a day to relax, recoup, and recreate. The weather was idyllic, there was a company hike planned in the mid-morning, and I had plans to go fishing with my good friends Don and Amy later on - instead, I spent the day of golden opportunity wheezing and hacking my way between bouts of fitful sleep and bleary wakefulness; putting silver $1 coins over my eyes to block out the hateful sunlight that perforated the blinds, with the small comfort of knowing that if i died, my passage would be paid for the Styx Gondola Cruise.  I felt like some bronchi-ital version of a vampire out of the book I'm reading ('Salem's Lot by Stephen King).

Thankfully, I awoke this morning feeling much better than I did yesterday.  I'll still probably spend most of the day in bed, but I'm on the mend and feeling well enough to complain about how sick I am for all the internet to hear.  Thank goodness for small mercies.

- Rusden "I Vant to Suck Your Nyquil" Scott

P.S. Mad, mad props to the wonderful people who've been here to bring me soup and smoothies and fruit snacks and take away my butterfingers and force me to take medicine.  Don, Amy, Sara, Bryce, Mike, and esp. Olivia - you guys are dandies.  Like, the cat's pajamas, seriously.  Super-duper-thunder-troopers, every single one of you.

P.P.S. To all persons who fit the description of a roommate who calls in sick for 5 days last week forcing the rest of the already-too-small group of workers to pick up the slack so that you can hang out with your girlfriend all day long and then come home and work out to hip hop at midnight when we're all trying to sleep so we can cover your sorry butt tomorrow:  Go sit on a totem pole.

P.P.P.S.  As admittedly small as is my knowledge of the workings of the human body and the mysteries of the universe, I'm fairly certain that one should not be consistently putting out more matter than one takes in.  It stands not at all to reason and hitherto my so-recent illness was it assuredly not so.  Should I continue much longer in such a befuddling state, I would deem it prudent to consult a physician.

Not down with the sickness

My earthly form is being converted entirely into mucus.  I've been skirting around the border of illness for the past couple weeks, occasionally dipping my big toe in long enough to get a raspy throat or runny nose, with the unpleasant knowledge that any passing butterfly could shove me over the brink into full-on miserable sickness.  And yesterday, that very thing happened.  I went to work feeling tired and about as under the weather as usual, and as the day wore on I got progressively more tired; like a cheap wind-up kid's toy found in a McDonald's happy meal and left forgotten after the first winding, white plastic cogs turning slower and slower until they don't move at all unless you nudge the toy with your foot, prodding it to jerk around briefly.  That's the point I hit when I got home.  I sat down on the couch and found I couldn't get back up.  I wanted to go upstairs to my room to collapse, but my groggy-though-determined efforts in that direction left me kneeling on the floor with my face plastered to the couch cushion where my derriere had so recently been settled.  Though drained of almost all energy, I delved into forgotten reservoirs and 45 minutes later had summoned the strength to animate my body long enough to move the 20 feet out of the main room and into a nearby dark hallway, where I collapsed heavily on the carpet and lay for 5 hours taking choking lungfuls of air at odd intervals and dozing.

And after that... I felt much better.  In fact I felt almost completely new again, aside from the fact that since then an inter-dimensional rift has opened in my body allowing an ungodly amount of mucus to pour through and out of me.

All things considered, I've been remarkably blessed in my health here.  I've spent endless days in the pouring rain, handling tickets and money, and worst of all, shaking hands with hundreds of old people who've been shut up with thousands of other old folks from countless countries and climes in a floating metal hulk at sea.  That's what'll get ya every time; the hand on hand contact.  Touching hands is unsafe and clearly how Rome ended, but I can't stop grabbing every five fingered microbial troop carrier that presents itself.  There's just something screwed deep down into me that recoils against refusing a gift freely offered, even if that gift is a person's living hand.   Add to that the long-houred days with weeks at a time between days off, and it's a miracle I haven't been more sick than I have.  It seems like most days I'll feel like total garbage, go to work and suddenly be totally fine all day until I get home and feel sick again.  I honestly feel that being able to keep working effectively is a blessing I'm being given, and I'm indeed grateful.

I have some funny stories about tourists, but it's 10:02 and I have to wake up for work at 4:00, so I'll have to update this tomorrow, or more probably on some other, ill-defined date.  Rusden out.

Snorkeling in Alaska

One thing I've come to realize here in Alaska is that days off are few and far between, and so when you get one you have to make the very most of it.  Our last day off was one that we all had together, and we all loaded up the driver van and did some whale watching before spending a few hours hiking up at Ward Lake.  Today was my second day off, and I'd been waiting for it with a long list of cool things I wanted to do.

The way things work here, when you get the rare day off a manager will look at a list of tours and activities you've indicated you're interested in, call their connections to see if they have room for you, and call you to ask if you want to go flying around Misty Fjords in a float plane on a bear watching tour or go kayaking or snorkeling or whatever.  When I found out I was off today I asked if I could get a spot on a plane, since that's number one on my Ketchikan bucket list.  Unfortunately all flights were full, so I got to do my second pick: SNORKELING!!

This week's music pick

Music is incredible.  These are a few of the songs I've been enjoying in the past few days.  They're all a little off of the beaten path, but give them all a try: I'll bet there's at least one that plucks your harp.

 The Weakerthans - Without Mythology

I like the Weakerthans.  The music is genre-less (though some call it folk-punk), the lyrics, poetry.  The style of this song is a little different than the rest of their material, but I really dig it.  If you don't like this one, consider trying some of their other stuff, like this!

Listen to this song on a grey, rainy day (like it is today here in Ketchikan).

Eluveitie - Luxtos

What's this?  A band that combines traditional Celtic folk music and instruments with a powerful Gothenburg influenced heavy metal style?  And they sing in Gaulish, an ancient language that's been dead for over a thousand years?  And they have a hurdy-gurdy player?!  Yes, please!

Animal Collective - My Girls

Animal Collective wanders on the territorial edges of music, exploring the borders and redefining what music is.  I've been digging into their material to find my favorites and so far this song has really stuck with me.  It's not conventional, but that's not what Animal Collective is about, and neither am I.







Kola Kid - Pizza Power 

Somewhere there is a kid, and he presumably consumes and enjoys Kola, or otherwise interacts with Kola in a way that would warrant the moniker Kola Kid.  And he also makes great chiptunes.This track is a soothing mixture of bleeps and bloops set along a groovy drum beat with an almost trance-like result.

Stephanie Mabey - The Zombie Song

Zombies: I like them.  Zombie movies, zombies video games, and yes, even zombie music.  I first heard this track back in October around Halloween time (when else do you hear songs about zombies?) and thought it was great.  Heard it flipping through random stuff on my iPod this week and decided to bring it back to life (pun not only very much intended, but carefully crafted).  While I'm a sucker for zombie stuff, her other stuff is pretty neat as well.

Totem Poles, antique guns, and a super slide

WARNING: The following post contains very frank discussion concerning the movements of bowels (or the lack thereof).  Squeamish readers should skip ahead.

In my last post about zip-lining I mentioned the super slide at the end.  Here's a little video of me going down it.  Pro tip:  They tell you to brake.  Don't do it.  

Since I haven't been in Alaska for a week yet, every day is a day of firsts.  Today, I had my very first Alaskan bowel movement!  It took 5 days, which is pretty typical for when I move to a new location.  I don't know what it is, but I had the same problem when I went to the MTC (it took 6 days), and when I first got to Suriname (about 5 days there).  I'm not sure how normal that is but it doesn't seem to be an issue for anyone else.  Anyway, my long wait is over, and that's pretty much all I need to say about that.  If you have more questions you can ask me, and I'll tell you that's creepy.

The Ketchikan Krew Takes to the Treetops

As a special treat, we were all taken to Alaska Canopy Tours after work today, where we went through what is hands down the coolest (and only) zip-line course I've ever gone through.  And, well, it was a total blast.  The weather was beautiful with the sun making a rare appearance, and from our platforms perched 100 feet above the rainforest floor we had a beautiful view across the ocean to the verdant, snow-capped mountains which stretched to the (most appropriately) mist-obscured Misty Fjords to the Southwest.  The college age guides, who were kind enough to take all 13 of us through the course for free, were all really cool guys who invited us to come back any time we had free time want to go zip-lining for a while.  We also have invitations to hang out with them after hours at some of their regular bonfires and other parties.  I know that I could come down to the zip lines every day off all summer and never get tired of the thrill and beauty, but with all the other activities and attractions, I don't know how often I'll get to come down.

It's crazy to me that the biggest dilemma I'm facing this summer is that I might not go have time to go soaring around the treetops of a massive Red Cedar forest in Alaska as much as I want because there are so many other cool things I have to do on my days off.  Gosh, I'm really between a rock and a hard place.  But don't grieve for me, I will find some way to soldier on.

Amazing Pictures from my first day in Ketchikan

Eggs and Bunnies and Peeps, Oh my!

I like jelly beans. A lot.  

"Hey it's Easter, the day Jesus rose from the dead.  What should we do?"
"...How bout eggs?"
"But what does that have to do with Jesus?"
"Alright, we'll hide 'em!"
"I'm not sure I follow your logic.."
"Don't worry, there's a bunny."
-Jim Gaffigan

He's got a point.  Where do enormous anthropomorphic bunnies dispensing colored hen eggs factor into the commemoration of the death and resurrection of the Savior? I can't even think of some arcane, metaphorical way they could be related, so where does it come from? I could probably find out in 5 seconds on Wikipedia, but I'd rather just believe it's an unsolved mystery, like Nessie or Jimmy Hoffa.

Big Snake, Kissing Strangers, Roofer Siege, and Facebook Sabotage

Met a snake today.  I'm a Parseltongue.  His name's Chrisssssss.  He wanted to kill and eat stuff, but I was all like, "slssssthsskashyssths", and he was like, "k".

Also,while on campus today I walked up to a couple of strangers I saw hugging each other, with the intention of joining their hug cause who couldn't use a hug you know? But by the time I got to them, they had graduated from hugging to eating each other's faces.  Now, some people would've just walked away at that point, but I try hard not to be some people.  So I closed my eyes, puckered my lips... and leaned right in there, waiting for them to notice.  They did, and honestly I was not expecting that kind of hostility.  I was planning on asking them for a picture so I could show a friend I'd actually done it (we'd been talking about doing something like that today) but they were so mad I didn't even broach the subject.  Although to be honest, I'm more okay with them being mad than if they had been totally cool with me joining in.

So there's been a crew of roofers sieging my house all day. All entrances to the house are blocked by shingle mountains, there's a dumpster in my driveway, and it sounds like there's a pack of zombies trying to get through the roof.  Only slobbering ghouls gnawing on the joists would be cool.  These guys aren't cool, although slobbering ghoul isn't too far off (I kid! I kid!).  Seriously though, a couple of these guys seem like their IQ may be room temperature.  As I sit here, one of the workers keeps walking back and forth across the lawn singing, "Na na NA na!  Na na NA na! Hey-ey-ey!  Good Game!"  again and again and againandagainadnagain.  Good game?  Are you kidding me?!  It doesn't help that one of the workers put their foot all the way through the roof into my sisters closet.

Actually, my cynicism is probably entirely unfounded.  These guys are fixing our roof, which is leaking again, so I should be more grateful.

In other news, my preggo sister Averie is here for the week with her little belly bean, who I call Cletus the Fetus.  Having her here has been great, just like old times.  And just like old times, when she leaves her Facebook open, I can't help but mess with it.  Granted, I did change it back after a few minutes, which I don't normally do.  Here are a couple pics I took before I fixed it.

Steampunk + Guitar = Fantastronomical Win

I've been doing some research on guitars lately since I hope to buy one before I leave to Alaska (in 19 days!!), and while stumbling around some corner of the internet I found what are in my opinion the coolest guitars in the world, made by a guy named Tom Cochran.

This guy takes one of my favorite niche art aesthetics, steampunk, and applies it to guitars.  The resulting combination is the best thing since Copernicus Reese mixed peanut butter with chocolate.

Hari Krishna Charlie Brown!! (Festival of Colors Pictures)

Why is there no "A Charlie Brown Pagwah"?  Why restrict his celebrations to Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Halloween?  People love Charlie Brown (Not me, I am not 'people'.  To be clear, I do not like Charlie Brown, except for that dance snoopy does, which warms the cockles of my heart.), and whatever corporation owns the rights to his sad sack depressed life could totally cash in by coming out with a whole series of new holiday specials.  Here are a few samples.  If you happen to own Charlie Brown, these are freebies, feel free to use them.

The Multi-Tasking Challenge: Tuesday

Multi-tasking - the art of screwing everything up at one time.

The challenge continues as I multi-task my way through Spring Break one day at a time (if I could do two days at a time I totally would, 'cause that would be some hardcore multi-tasking).  For today's Multi-Tasking Challenge I wanted to go work on the engine in my car while heating up a bowl of soup on the engine block, but I realized I know about as much about working on car engines as Mr. Bean, so instead I decided to combine a task I enjoy (video games) with one that I loathe (cardio-vascular excercise).  The result was me playing Guitar Hero on Expert difficulty while running on a treadmill cranked up to level 7.  And to add to the challenge, I turned the TV volume down, put in my iPod, and listened to smooth jazz while I played heavy metal while I jogged.




Challenge: 8/10 Trying to keep track of three different beats all at once is no mean feat.

Tasks Performed: 3

Successful:  You better believe it.  Video documentation coming soon.

Pro Tip:  Focus on running first and foremost.  Having your face sanded off by a treadmill does not count as a task, nor does it impress the ladies.

The Insomniac Monologues

         Some nights sleep eludes me and I lie awake in bed, while random trains of thought go chugging through my head, puffing clouds of nonsense into the wee hours of the morning.  This usually happens when something important is happening the next day and I know I need to be well rested, but sometimes it happens for no reason.  It's like my mind's passive-aggressive way of rebelling against my body.  A big "Screw you. Love, Your Brain. P.S.  Here's an amazing idea that will solve all your problems.  You won't remember it in the morning.".  

This is last night's attempt at documenting some of the things that go through my mind when I can't sleep.  

  

The Multi-tasking Challenge: Monday

          A couple weeks ago somebody told me during a conversation that girls are unarguably better at multi-tasking than their male counterparts.  Now, this may be true, but when someone presents something as unarguable, especially such a ridiculous claim as the one made to me, I feel almost duty-bound to argue.  So I decided that I would prove this person wrong by embarking on a quest proving that I, in behalf of my sex, could execute diverse tasks simultaneously just as well as the average Joesephine.

         Since it's Spring Break, I chose this week to carry out my plan.  So all week, I will multi-task as much as I can handle, as well as doing one major multi-task per day.  For example, as I write this I am also putting my pants on, whereas I normally would remain un-pantsed for the duration (that's mostly a joke).

        Today's major multi-task is actually one I did a while back, and not today.  I decided that the daily routine of showering and then eating breakfast is an extravagant waste of time, and I could shave off precious seconds of dead table-and-bowl time by enjoying my morning meal in the shower.  And so I did.  One bowl of cereal and three tacos, thank you very much.   

Challenge: 6/10 -  There's an art to not getting the tacos too wet, but the learning curve is pretty forgiving. 

Tasks Performed: 3, if you count singing.  There's potential for 4, but the other common shower task is one that I choose to keep far away from my eating.  Even I have my limits.

Successful?  Yes!

Pro Tip: Stick marshmallows from cereals like Marshmallow Mateys to your stomach to create constelations, spell out secret messages, and so much more!

A Couple Sunday Tunes

       My name is Roozden, and I am addicted to music.  I'm a beat-aholic, a tune junkie, a note hound, an album aficionado, a song sucker, a ditty disciple, a band buff, an ensemble enthusiast, a minstrel maniac.  I'm a fiend for fugues, and I'm coo-coo for choruses, I'm a crack head.  Wait, not I'm not.  Disregard that last one.  Anyway, I like music a lot and much of my free time is spent digging for a new sound the way Indiana Jones looks for artifacts.  As a result, I listen to a wide and eclectic range of musical genres, including such unlikely bedfellows as Folk Metal, Pirate Hip-Hop, Gregorian Chant, Sacred Harp, and Chiptunes, which sounds   like a Nintendo being thrown down a stairwell (thank goodness there's no accounting for taste).

       Leo Tolstoy said

Weirdly Delicious - My Strange Food Habits

      While at my Dad's house today I was forced to confront the fact that there is rarely anything (I want) to eat there.  Due to my Dad's diet, there was no bread, no milk, no potatoes, and no snack food to speak of, which left me only 2 options: eat some fruit or get get creative.
So I put on my thinking cap.

And came up with this.

Dear Ladies

         Okay girls, this has gone on long enough.  You've had your chance.  Today is leap day, which rolls around once every 1460 days and is the only day where the laws of the cosmos turn their back and for a period of 24 hours, women are allowed to throw a man to the ground, present him with a mangagement ring, and demand that he marries you before he can get up again.

         Don't think that I'm oblivious to the fact that there are scads of you of the fairer sex who have been waiting for today to arrive like tweens in line for a Justin Bieber concert.  I know that the thought of being

Web Logs, Eh?

          In the '90s, Al Gore invented the internet.  And this was a sign.  For just as the new star appearing in the east signaled the birth of the Savior, the advent of the internet was the herald of another (somewhat less important) birth.  Mine.  Though some may claim that the two events are unrelated based on "logic", "facts", and "non-retardedness", I know better.  And that's why I have accepted Al Gore as my second father, and even though he's never responded to any of my letters letting him know that we should totally chill sometime and do some father/son bonding activities like fishing or playing gamecube (bondage-dates, I call them), I'll keep sending him Farmville invitations because I know he cares, even if he never shows up for the family photos I so politely insist he comes to.