Thursday, December 15, 2005

Let's Get This Party Started

If you had a band, what would it be called, and why?

I think mine would be The Museum of Art. It's simple, yet pretentious and artsy.

I think this ought to exclude Cheese on Bread since they are a band. But why the name was chosen is certainly a valid line of conversation.

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Dearth of posts

My last post was done in a frenzy, so I deleted it. I hope that last exchange of comments on Clark's post was not responsible for a cooling of this blog, since I think it's a great idea and I know I've been enjoying it. I'm finishing finals. I offer copies of my law notes to anybody who wants them. No charge. I hope you all are having nice near-Christmas-hannukah-Kwanzaa-[other unintentionally excluded holidays] periods, or at least better than mine.

To clear up ambiguities since my name is not viewable in my profile here, as far as I know, I am Matthew E, and if this were a just universe, I would have been in BHS class of '99. Last week I received a postcard forwarded from "home" that my adoptive high school, Sycamore, had some for-profit publishing house building an alumni directory and they wanted updated biographical information from us for it. I called the number, gave them the code, and told the sales rep that I wanted my name omitted because I hate most of the people I went to school with and have little love lost among me and the others, I hate nearly all the teachers there (exceptions for Mrs. J, Mr. S, Mrs. S., Mr. A, and Mrs. E), I hated the administration at the time, and I utterly detested having to waste so many days of my adolescence in those hallways. They were and remain "Sycamorons." For some reason the athletic teams are called the "Aves." I pointed out in the newspaper room once that they must be named in opposition to the "'ave nots," given how wealthy and conformist the cookie-cutter suburban district is.

Those are my feelings about Sycamore High School. Thank God the Ohio experience is over. If they ever try to use my name in conjunction with the school, I think I'll retain an attorney. It is ironic how in Cincinnati, if you try to get a local job, you may be asked which high school you attended. They tend not to leave the city, and if they do, they often return. It is really tribal and weird (and conservative). They elected Jeanne Schmidt the the House of Reps, who recently obtained notoriety for telling Representative Murtha of PA that "One of my constituents gave me a message for him: Cowards cut and run; marines don't." Unfortunately for Schmidt, Murtha was a veteran marine, who still wants the troops home. I want it known that I attended a volunteer rally for the off-election campaign of her Democratic rival, Paul Hackett, despite my dislike for the Democratic party and party politics. When she apologized, it was clear she did not understand what the fuss was all about, and made a comment to the effect that "I should not make comments without knowing who it is I'm talking to," or some other idiotic reason. Rudeness? Civility among professional politicians? Huh? Judging from letters to the newspapers in the editorial pages, many of the constituents apparently also do not understand and lauded her "expressing her opinion, even if it is unpopular." Airheads.

Even worse, Moritz College of [f]Law is very much like high school in its near fraternity atmosphere, cliqueishness, and the shallow interests and fashions of those walking the corridors of power. I never would have believed how unthinking, self-centered, and shallow people could be even among a group of supposedly highly intelligent people prized (and often overly compensated) for analytic abilities. It really is a strong blow to my faith in humanity (or any "creator" we might have) and our ability to redeem ourselves as a species. My cynicism and disillusionment have never been as great as they are today.

Happy holidays, my friends.