Sunday, September 19, 2010

The Changing of the Seasons


On Fall













I've been trying to construct an elaborate metaphor to describe just how much ass Fall kicks, but then I realized that to do so would inevitably fail to capture how epic it is, and so I will say to you simply that Fall is the Fall of seasons. There, now you get it.

If I were not prohibited by law due to several prior offenses, I would buy Fall a Surf-and-Turf dinner, put my leather jacket on a puddle so Fall wouldn't get its feet wet, bring Fall back to my place where I'd classily be burning Vanilla Yankee Candles with roses leading to a silk-sheeted bed, and proceed to give Fall a go-around like it's never had before.

Here's how it breaks down, in my book: Summer and Winter are stagnant seasons. Nothing productive happens- they just sit there, mostly pissing you off with extreme weather. Seriously, think about it: in Summer, shit just stays hot. Winter, cold. No changes, nothing pretty, just the same old bullshit every day.

Fall and Spring, on the other hand, are transitional seasons. During these times, we move between the lard-ass, couch-potato seasons. I prefer Fall for a few reasons: first, we're cooling off. The most rewarding moments of Summer are walking into an air-conditioned room from a sweltering, hotbox exterior space, right? Fall does that for us. It's cool, but not cold. Second, it's just beautiful. Leaves changing, sun moving further south in the sky and producing some amazing sunsets, cool breezes and crisp mornings.

Now, compare this with Spring. Indeed, there is something to be said for the re-birth, the perestroika, finding new life after the winter of death. Yet consider that if we look at Fall and Spring as aforementioned transitional seasons, Spring is the awkward puberty of the yearly lifecycle. The huge puddles of melted snow are the greasy, pimpled face of a budding teenager. Like teenage hands hesitantly probing sexual organs, Spring really doesn't know what the fuck it's doing, and so neither do we. Is it time to start biking? How about running outside? Is it even ready to be warm? Sometimes it just snows again, like a 13-year old that tonight just isn't the right time to jerk off for the first time to Skinemax, and instead pulls out a comic book, and jerks off to Wonder Woman...for the third time this week. Haven't you noticed how awkward it is to masturbate between April and June?

Fall, on the other hand, is the aging process: becoming older, wiser, less of a douche. Fall is not getting old, no; Winter is old, marching towards death, spending the last ten years of life in diapers, getting dementia and constantly asking that things that make noise be turned down.

Indeed, Summer brings with it the vigor of the mid 20's and 30's. Warm, strong, productive, re-productive. But Summer at its essence is a fucking yuppie; thinks its a real hot shot, invincible, infallible. Summer thinks way too highly of itself, and is setting itself up for a...

Fall, with it's slow and steady transition. It is a time of reflection. Life is and has been good. Don't worry, we still have time left to be great, be our solid selves; but it's time to chill out, mellow out, and enjoy the leaves. Gray hairs start to appear, we can't exercise or fuck like we used to, but whatever. We've got money and kids and a Subaru and a lake house, so let's enjoy it now before we get ready to die.

I don't know about you, but I'm looking forward both to the Fall of life and the life of Fall (please ignore the annoying pretension of that last sentence, and if you see me, punch me in the face for it.) I'm tempted to want Fall all year round, but you see, that would defeat the purpose. Fall is so great because of the failings of its surrounding seasons.

So I'll take my wintry Medicare, my Spring boners in science class, my Summer power-lunches. Then I'll sit on the porch and drink a single-malt in Fall.

Thanks for being awesome, Fall. And I promise, after dinner, I'll use protection so you won't end up getting super preggers or contracting FallAids. (ha. pronounced "fuh-LAIDS.")

Thanks for reading today!

BT DUBS
1. Seriously? Why hasn't everyone realized how ball-numbingly stupid Facebook relationships are? Do the pros of declaring your relationship on an already masturbatory social network really outweigh the cons of the incredible awkwardness of becoming "single" again and allowing your stupid friends to comment things like "watch out, ladies!", "oh, no, what happened?", "don't worry, you'll bounce back" or "there's plenty of fish" in the fucking "sea." They don't. Witnessing facebook relationship developments makes me want to stick toothpicks stained with scabies into my retinas. STOP DOING THIS. Friends, if your relationship needs validation on Facebook, break up now.

2. I think I finally appreciate capitalism. Why? Because I am starting to hate people who get pissed off at having to pay for goods or services. I'm also generally upset by people who choose to purchase things and then demand royal beejer treatment for their actions. Consumers seem to forget that their money, especially discretionary money, can be spent anywhere. Some people don't understand that extra stuff generally means paying extra, because, you know, shit really isn't free.

3. Update 9/19/10: all party buses traveling along Hennepin still have not been rigged with explosives. I remind all: the longer they live, the higher the chances we will kill them, so let's just get this over with now.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Guest Blogger Andrew Murphy Davis: Captions for My Photos of Atlanta

Andrew Davis arrived at Carleton College in the fall of 2004 and soon thereafter was known as "Murphy Davis." While the reasons for this are not widely known, the general consensus is that "Andrew" is a bullshit name and the world is more likely to be pwned by a dude named "Murphy." And true to that form, Murphy generally rocks the shit out of whatever he's doing at the moment. He was my neighbor freshman year and my roomate Sophomore and Senior years. The most important thing to know about him is that, at any given time, he is really pumped about one of the following: an upcoming movie, video game, television season premiere, album, comic book or graphic novel, natural phenomenon, or video game. He was raised in a small town in South Carolina and readily acknowledges how much (insert your lame-ass thing here) blows ass.

I was fortunate to spend a week with him recently at his home in Atlanta. Over the course of this trip, I took several pictures. Murphy has been kind enough to provide the captions. Enjoy.

ATLANTA: WHERE THE MEN ARE STRONG,
THE WOMEN ARE SWEATY,
AND IT RAINS COKE-ZERO

"A woman asked us: 'Who's Tim and Eric?' I said, 'He's Tim and I'm 'Go Fuck Yourself.' Then she took our picture."


"What's that Max? You want one? Well maybe you should bring your ID next time like one of the big kids."



"I approve of any place selling anything by the slab."


"What is good in life? To see your potatoes mashed, see them made into salad before you, and hear the lamentations of the women..."


"...followed by a convivial Coke Z."

"At the time, Max said this was 'very Wes Anderson.' But now all I can see is the 'enter' arrow getting all up in his business.'"


"This is a one of the whale sharks the Georgia Aquarium has managed not to starve to death. Give them some time."



"GRAAA!!!!"

"Max has crabs. Crabs a meter wide feeding on seafloor detritus."


"AAARGH!!!!"

"These seals are basically like fuzzy underwater torpedoes that HATE YOU."

"A woman asked us (in front of this and many other nearly identical fish), in all seriousness, if we knew which ones were Piranhas. 'Certainly not, madam. These are insufficiently ferocious.'"

"Here we share a cold one with the inventor of Coca-Cola (and anticipator of Coke Zero.) Truly, a life well-spent: in pursuit of flavor."