Don't Pass Go (Pop Culture Essay)

Slowly, Seth separates the top half of the box from the bottom. I’m hit with the aroma of the old Monopoly board. It smells like old books. I’ve never played with this many people before. Eight grown men arguing over token pieces? This will be interesting. Seth doesn’t hesitate to shout dibs on the car. Kolton states that since it’s his house, he will be toting the car. I swear the car token of Monopoly has the same ego-connotation of a grown man driving a modern day Mustang; car token = small penis. The argument of “No, mine is smaller. I should get the car” is keeping me occupied while they play rock, paper, scissors to decide. Now that everyone else has a token, I get to choose between the thimble and the iron. I saw in a Monopoly documentary that the thimble is hardest to see on the board. That’s the obvious pick. It’s game time.

I pick up the small smooth dice and roll. Double six! Electric Company. I hate that I can’t buy anything first round. Stupid rule. I roll again. Look at my little thimble go! Finally my $200 bucks and Reading Railroad. Oh the historic railroad. At the time I was too young not to be excited. Looking back now, it wasn’t all that great. I can’t believe I finally get to ride the train! A snowflake falls on my eyelash as Dad and me wait to board. The heavy set man with the cool hat rips our tickets. “Welcome aboard little one. We have a special visitor stopping by.” The whistle sounds. We’re off. It’s been forever and all I’ve seen is naked trees and snow. It’s still pretty. Why is there a sudden, overwhelming amount of commotion coming from the front? Oh my god...I mean gosh. I’m not suppose to say that. Is that Santa? Holy crap. Holy crap. That is Santa! What am I going to ask for? Ohmanohmanohman.

Josh already has two magentas. Someone needs to land and buy States Avenue before Josh. Yes! Mark to the rescue. Sweetness. I can’t believe it’s fucking raining. Athens is one of the ugliest places when it rains. Oh man, she’s gonna cry. We should probably cross. Damn the streets get slick when they’re wet. The Artist is still playing at the Athena? We hardly both fit underneath this tiny black umbrella. Carpenter street. Almost there. I wish she would just bring her own. Is it not obvious that I’m in misery being this close to her? Yeah, she’s gonna cry. Taking her to dinner was probably a bad idea. Certainly it won’t be that much of a shock to her. We’re both miserable. It’s been like this for a couple weeks now. God is this what Zach was saying when he told me relationships were work? Finally. 120 State Street. 

“Hey. Maria...listen...I um. Well...”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Wait. What?”

“I’ve been thinking about how we’ve been acting the past month and I’m not happy. Are you?”

“Good god no. Sorry I didn’t mean to laugh”

“It’s okay. We are kind of a joke. Thanks for walking me back. Stay dry.”

All eight of us are all over the place. With so many opponents, it’s near impossible to get a monopoly. I need to pick a partner. With only Boardwalk and Reading, I’m just a sitting duck. I need Park Place from Josh. After much due diligence, I get States for Reading from Mark, then Park Place for States. Josh and I own the board. Two houses on each please. After I roll a ten, I land on the corner and go directly to jail. Damn. Could he put these handcuffs on any tighter! I’ve been compliant with everything he’s asked. Yeah yeah, I’m watching my head. Don’t worry. What is he looking for in my car? What did I do to make him want to check? Alright Anthony lets go through this again. We were just driving around and wanted to check out the old park we use to play peewee baseball. All three of us were heading to different schools when the summer was over and we were feeling reminiscent. That’s the truth. Did he truly think I was about to make a deal? What was he asking Billy and Seth? Oh great, he’s coming back.

“Come on bud. You’re okay to go.”

“That’s it?”

“ Have a good night son.”

That was weird. Good thing Seth has a cop for a dad. Small town politics aren’t all that bad. 

An hour and a half in and we’ve dropped half the players. Derek was the first to go. He’s still pissed. Actually it’s probably because of the BCS game. Why did he put a hundred bucks on Notre Dame? Kolton won’t stop bitching about Josh giving me his properties so he could sleep. Seth lands on Chance. “Advance Token to Boardwalk.” I’ve had four houses on it for half the game. He shows us the card. The Monopoly Man is on it. He’s pushing a baby carriage and is carrying his dog. It reminds me of Ben Robey. Old junior high basketball coach turned father. 

“Hey Ben.” He’s got Luke. He’s getting huge.

“Anthony! How ya been? You going to the festival?”

“Yep.”

“And the Avett show tomorrow? You’re a busy man. I’ll pick ya up around 2? I think we’re grabbing BD’s for lunch.”

“Good deal.” I see him everywhere! It’s a bummer he’s not coming in. After all it was him who recommended I go to the Nelsonville Music Festival. So many good artists. Iron & Wine, Dawes, Old Hundred, M. Ward. And I can’t believe I’m seeing the Avetts for what, the fourth time? Third time with Ben. No wonder I’m always broke.

Seth can’t pay up. He’s gone. Of course the other two would forfeit. We hardly ever finish a game. Since he was the first to go, Derek has to pack up the game. We all gather around the television to watch Derek lose money. I’m still in the mood to reminisce but I know I’ll just bore the guys with my Monopoly stories. Hopefully States Avenue and “Go to Jail” have a more colorful story to tell next time I win Monopoly.

It's an Eggers thing.

I'm comfortable in saying that I am enjoying Eggers work a little more than I am Ackerman. I was a upset to see on the syllabus Wednesday that we are soon going back and talking more about Ackerman's hyperbolic experiences. However, Eggers is the bee's knees. I enjoy how he can undercut any subject about himself. We all suffer from this when talking about oneself. When he is not sarcastically talking about his parents death or some master escape plan he has conjured up in his head for him and Toph, Eggers can convey a rather serious tone to show the reader just how much he struggles with his internal thoughts.

One of my favorite writing styles Eggers uses to convey tone is on page 103 when he actually uses a music bar to show us exactly how a woman uttered the sentence "What a good brother you are!" (I would try to insert some form of musical bar in here but I would shame myself.) I can not think of a better way to convey tone than to actually insert musical notes of how the person was talking. Someone should do this for an entire essay. I volunteer Patrick.

Also, on page 117-120, I enjoy how Eggers used Toph to play out an imaginary conversation between them. At first I thought Toph had become some badass philosophical genius but I like to think Eggers took this opportunity to show the reader how he want to express himself with Toph. 

pp. 119

"All this energy from you! Were you drinking soda before bed?"

"And poor Dad. Why not just leave him alone? I mean --"

"God. Please. So I'm not allowed to talk about --"

"I don't know. I guess so. If you feel you have to."

"I do."

"Fine."

"I can't see past it."

"Fine. So you're going to stay up tonight, most of the night, like every night, staring at your screen..."

This, in my opinion, was such a powerful method Eggers uses to convey just how serious this subject is for him. Personally, I do this all the time. I constantly daydream of conversations I wish I would have with certain people. Usually blown opportunities on dates.

Life's Hardest Decision

There are two different writing styles that Eggers uses throughout the first part of AHWOSG that I throughly enjoyed.

1. A quick, precise dialogue.
2. Squirrely, argumentative conscience

Throughout this emulation, I want to try to combine these styles while trying to keep a light, humorous tone like Eggers. Here we go...

Once again, Friday has rolled around. After our usual bar shuffle through the streets of Athens, Taylor, Billy, and I stumble back to our house. We lost Kyle along the way. He ran into an old fling and decided to go home with her. It probably won't go well for him. It never does.

"Will you grab me a beer Anthony."
"Sure thing. What's gonna be playing on the tube tonight?"
"I don't know" Taylor said with disdain.
"Where's the remote?"
"Look behind the couch!"
"Found it."
"So what are we watching?"
"I don't care!"

Christ. There is only three beers left...and all the Woodchucks are gone. That's it..I'm getting a mini-fridge. I'll have to smother my own drinks into the house. Damn I'm hungry. I bet Kyle won't mind if I raid his food...

"How about the Big Lebowski?"
"Noway man. I watched that the other day stoned."
"Wanna watch a scary movie?"
"Like a B-lister?"
"I'm tired of watching shitty horror flicks."
"How about Rocky?"
"NO!"

Damn Billy must have a man-crush of Sylvester Stallone or something. He watches a Sly flick at least once a week...I mean I like Rocky, but damn...Pop-Tarts! Score. Ah they're blueberry...dammit Kyle. You're taste in Pop-Tarts is almost as abysmal in your taste of women. Burn...I could go for some First-Blood though. Sly is such a badass in that movie...he's a badass in all his movies...no that movie is all the way in my room...too far.

"Let's just watch a couple episodes of something..."
"That's cool"
"How about some Office?"
"Nah."
"How I Met Your Mother?"
"Anthony, you watch that show literally everyday."
"Yeah man. It's unhealthy"
"You're unhealthy."
"Nice. Comeback tool."
"Well then...since we can't decide...Hot Rod it is..."
"Fine."
"Sounds good."

This is a dilemma my friends and I face on a weekly basis...finding something to watch on Netflix. It truly is a huge event. I guess there's just too many options. However, we do have one rule: Whenever we can't decide within 10 minutes to watch something, we must watch Hot Rod or Pineapple Express. (We alternate between the two.) I can quote both movies verbatim; we're a very indecisive group of men.

The Musicians

The musicians who serenade the stumbling, rambling men and women of Court, are the greatest servants of today. They bring out some of the most beautiful sounds one may hear, yet they blend in with the most abysmal scenery: the bricks of roads, the walls of buildings. Also, it's amazing how such an amazing sound fills such a large space and then disappears just as quickly as it came.

This microscopic view of Court's lovely performers is seen in all beauty.

The same quickness in which the music disappears is felt the same way when someone falls in love with a passerby and never sees them again. As I sit and ponder my next sentence in a hotel lobby in Tennessee, I look out at all the wonderful events taking place. After a few seconds, my entertainment is gone. These events will never return. The memories of them will soon be replaced with the next beautiful event.

How can something so wonderful, such as the strum of a mandolin or the hum of a violin, be so easily passed by? What do people miss everyday? It is freighting to think of what is missed. So much energy can be spent on such beautiful events only to be never viewed upon. Back in the hotel lobby, no one has seen me.

It can almost be said that beauty and depression are consistent with one another. Court's musicians will always be there for this reminder.


Disclaimer: When I was talking of sitting in the hotel lobby and how no one had noticed me, I was not trying to say I was a beautiful sight to see. I was just trying to shed light on how easy it was for everyone to pass by without noticing me in general.

Attack of the Drones

After struggling all weekend, trying to find what I should write on, I realized I hit a gigantic wall. I thought this would be a great time to finally incorporate a little of my own major: Political Science. Of course, many people hate to even think of politics but I feel many lessons can be learned when hot topic issues are doven further into than just the surface. I promise this will not get preachy. Also, I feel like the subject of this post has been beaten to death over the past couple of years, so just go with it.

At first glance, one might think that this is a literary analysis of Star Wars: Episode II, which is actually titled Attack of the Clones. I'm sure something like this will soon appear on this blog.

When eating at the dining hall and looking up at the televisions or when looking at your favorite news website (if you're cool enough to have one), you see that today's big button issue is Obama's drone program. For those of you who don't know, Obama has been expanding and engaging in several drone attacks across sea. Of course many have criticized the lack of transparency the administration has shown. After hearing some objection during my nightly review of todays news, I became transfixed on why one person could or would want to  attack another area filled with such a large sum of innocent civilians just to obtain the death of a select few evil men.

I thought back to one of my favorite science fiction novels: Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card. Throughout the novel, and young boy, named Ender, trains to defeat an alien race. Long story short, Ender uses drone like technology to destroy an entire race of living beings and hardly feels connected to the terror he had committed.

When combining both of these scenarios/stories one can begin to wonder the power of the LCD screen. Does it really cause such a disconnection between people? How true is he statement, "Your generation is going to lose the art of face-to-face communication?"

When walking to class through the college green, I get a text (at least once a day) that reads something along the line of "Hey. I just saw you." Thanks I guess? I can not believe how often I get these messages from those who literally pass me at an arms length. I received one of the most disappointing texts from my most recent college crush. When arriving to one of my political law courses, I received a message with the body "Hey. I saw you on the green. I almost tapped on your shoulder but I decided not to. Lol." I was furious. Both with her and myself. Why did she not stop me? Was there a booger hanging from my nose and she was embarrassed to look at me? How did I miss her? Of course, I knew how. I was looking at my phone shuffling through music. I had to realize I also suffer from this disease.

After a drunken escapade, I woke up to another crush I had many months ago. I was dazed and confused by what was going on. I left her house with few words being exchanged and I tried to set up a coffee date to clear the air. Just last week, I got a Facebook message from my drunken mistress with an apology. It had almost been an entire year. She sits in front of me in one of my classes now and she still can hardly hold a conversation with me.

I went to Kroger last sunday for my weekly granola/beer run. I decided to avoid the self-check out line due to the anxiety that ensues once I realize I can hardly work the thing. I stand in line for what seems hours when it ended up only being 5 minutes. I flipped out my iPhone to look at the latest BBC headlines. I saw where they had been refreshed 10 minutes ago. I must have checked them while driving. I was, no joke, reading on what the foreign public thought of America's leader reigning hellfire on bordering nations. I soon came to the realization that the cashier had asked me several times for my Kroger card. I felt like a turd. I slowly handed it to her. When leaving, it dawned on me that my mind, while standing in line at the local Kroger, was halfway across the world. I mind and body were miles and miles away from one another.

Of course, these brief stories about my horrendous dating game and abysmal diet are nowhere near as tragic as the drone program, but I feel as though they are related. The moral of all the scenarios mentioned above is the fact that we are disconnected from most of our actual, physical life. It's very scary to think about. And even those who become conscience of the situation still suffer from it.

Fisher and Ackerman sittin' in a tree...

*prolonged, dramatic sigh of misery*

Dave,

Are you trying to make me go insane?

 I only jest.

On a serious note however, when reading Fisher's Once a Tramp, Always... I could not help but being reminded of Diane Ackerman and her off the wall sensory. It seems as if these two are nice compliments to one another, or as Angela put it, they are supplements.

When reading of the potato chips...oh my. My eye began to twitch due to thinking of how this would be the exact way Ackerman would explain eating a delicious potato chip. "They were ineffable" she proclaims. I must say, however, that when Fisher is explaining her experience with these chips in November of 1936, I began to salivate. I immediately tried to think of a certain food I  ate in my past and be able to say "Damn. That was my 'Fisher Potato Chip.'" Sadly, I could only think of the taste of the raisin bran I just devoured 30 minutes ago.

Maybe this is why I show public disdain for Ackerman and Fisher. I can not think of any experience with frivolous things like food. It seems almost unfair that I can't.

This weekend, I will try my hardest to experience my food with a hyperbolic sense such as Fisher and Ackerman and then maybe my envy will no longer cause dislike towards them. Stay tuned.

Hey Manny, Right Me Up.

When I was asked to think of a song that made me ambivalent, I failed miserably.

Its been nearly 36 hours since I was presented with this challenge and I managed to rediscover a high school classic.



Right Me Up - State Radio

Side note. For those who don't know State Radio, (which I hope is few) they were a band formed by Chad Stokes  after he disbanded from Dispatch. Sadly I stumbled across an article from College Humor titled "Guitar for Douchebags" and this article went to talk of how the reader would now only play songs by The Dave Matthews Band, Dispatch, the RENT soundtrack, and anything country in order to get ALL the ladies. I was sad to find out Dispatch/State Radio were labeled in the same category as the others mentioned. End side note.

This song is a story about a man named Manny. Manny suffers from what appears to be severe Down Syndrome. It goes on to talk of how Manny does not ask for comfort from the world. He doesn't seem to want people to pity him. Chad goes on to sing about how Manny is a happy man and is going to travel the world someday. Manny never misses a beat. The moral of the song is, whenever Chad is feeling down on himself, he looks to Manny to "right him up."

This song makes me feel ridiculously joyful. When I am ever feeling a little down on myself, I pull up this song to have Manny "right me up." When I first came to college, I listened to this song almost every second of everyday due to struggling every step of the way my freshman year. Whenever I fail an exam, I listen to Chad tell me the story of how Manny always got him back on track with a positive attitude. He reminds me not to get hung up on the frivolous things of life.

After Manny fixes my sorrows, I begin to think of his story on a much deeper level and become gloomy and angry with myself. I become gloomy because I realize that this man wakes up with more struggles on a day to day basis than I will ever have to face in my entire life. I hate to think that someone as happy as Manny has to go through these undeserving struggles. It seems unfair. I begin to think "Why him and not me?" I then become angry with myself due to me bitchin' and moanin' over something like a C+ on an Italian exam. Or a cracked iPhone screen. Or Netflix buffering for more than 30 seconds. Men like Manny always seem to make me a little more grateful for the things I am able to take for granted on a daily basis.

So once I become gloomy and angry, I have to restart the song to cheer myself up...its truly a vicious cycle.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jza3P3PBeQ4