Later, mates.

I won't go into excruciating detail about my recent trips to Dublin and Aberystwyth.

I will say that walking around Dublin made me want to take another crack at James Joyce.

I will also say that I spent last night in West Wales cooking out on the beach by a bonfire to a soundtrack featuring several covers of popular tunes performed by Tom Jones.

Wales is a pretty awesome place. I will miss it.

But New England is pretty good, too.

See you on saturday.

SURFER NORTH

One for the books, dear readers.

Horrible exam this morning, but it's over, at least.

I got a tip off yesterday from the nice clerk at Spillers (who I think is OwnerNick's daugther) that there was a show happening at UWIC arts college. Following in the vicious cashburn of the morning's academic pursuits, I called up pal Benny, picked up some tickets and went on the merry way. After chomping delicious baguettes at an old people's joints with unnervingly low tables (where we tried to think of a viable alternative to fanatical Christian HellHouses - look them up if you're unfamiliar. Terrifying) we made out way over to the show. We were out on the patio for the first three acts. Alex Dingley and Fredrick Stanley Star had been recommended. The former was a shambolic acoustic / toy keyboard set of guy-yell / girl-sing tunes - enjoyed - while the latter was what would go down if Grizzly Bear were Welsh and had a lower budget for equitment. Good time, good time.

Once Benny disappeared, I stuck around for the next couple electric acts, but the poor acoustics and strange scene (I think everyone else was a UWIC art student. I felt underdressed and overgroomed.) drove me back to my place.

It's all cool. I've got Bleak House to enjoy (some dude exploded!) and I'm home in a week.

Also, I heard Green Day's 21st Century Breakdown in a store a few days back. I am listening to Insomniac right now and thinking of ways to restrict Billie Joe Armstrong's access to C-Span.

Love and...more love.

What does a scanner see?

Ah, what a nice agreeable week of Wales. One exam (the more difficult one) down. Apart from finally easing my way into the nuances of clubbing with Declan and the lads (hint: one of my "nuanes" is a loss of all shame! Yeah!) I've also had some extreme nighttime adventures with James, featuring medics, sexual harassment leprechauns, and the worst goddam Kate Bush karaoke in the history of Kate Bush.

This afternoon and evening was simialrly cool. Hung out by the Bay with Benny, Tish and friends on what may have been the nicest day I've seen since I've been here. Great weather, great people, and badass Indian eats.

Also been reading Bleak House by Charles Dickens. That dude flamed on the upper crust like Ian MacKaye. Totally badass.

Oh, and Jason Sprung is on Cracked.com.

http://www.cracked.com/video_17411_no-homo-get-out-gay-free-card.html

Weird.

clubs revisited

Since I've been over here in Wales, I've talked a whole lot of shit about clubs and how much I dislike them, their loudness, their dankness, and their general suckness.

I stand corrected. I have officially had a thoroughly enjoyable night of clubbing.

Let this be a glimmer of hope to cranky bastards everywhere.

Oh, and I've got an exam tomorrow. Oops.

clearly no formula

There are days.

And there are Days.

And there are days when semi-serious attempts to study for my fandom exam turn into repeated listenings to Wild Honey, organic lunches and the spontaneous writing of pop songs.

I'm okay with those days.

bangers, mash, and and weather related conversations

The gray skies have returned. This is normal.

Tailsliding into the final weeks of my UK like I never quite could on my neon-orange 10-speed back in the day (but damn, I loved those gear shifts). Exam time in Connworld has historically been a stressful, hair-pulling experience for me, with hours spent in the boxy Mac basement consuming only small portions of sustainence with my steady intake of caffeine and nicotine. Cardiff's a different tune, at least for this fortunate son. 3 assessments spread out evenly over a month leaves me with plenty of time to rest my laurels and enjoy the fleeting sunshine between small, manageable sprints of typing.

It not thrilling 24 hours a day. Mostly, it's just strange and new, with all the ups and downs.

Much love.

the hard-bop saxophone in last night's dream turned out to be a seagull outside my window

Projects to consider this week:

1) Thesis proposal. Going with the summer romantic comedy, but is there really a plot? Getting there. Of course the minute I start working on that synopsis I get great ideas for a completely unrelated project and write a summary for that instead. Anyone interested in the possibility of portraying a sloppy drunk in an 80's punk band sometime in the next decades should send inquiries this way.

2) Jog? The weather's been nice & I've been lazy. Full English breakfasts, man...

3) Schoolwork. I've been informed via the paper-mail that I've got some papers and exams coming up. Ever ready, I will rise to the challenge and hopefully bring some Positive Mental Attitude along with me this go-round.

4) Project babyface. After being let down over and over again by the BIC corporation's inferior 2 bladed products I've made the big jump. 5 blades. Fuck you, stubble.

5) [fill in the blank]

<3

Here Today

It's been a while - a month - hasn't it?

I've traveled far and wide, from Barcelona, to London, to Amsterdam, to Berlin and all the way back again, and then up to St. Andrews (because I didn't feel as though I'd spent enough time sitting in trains) just to round things out. Too many stories to tell and moments to relay form the past month, but it was good. The company of Mr. Budge was a welcome change from the Cardiff blur, and it was great to see THE SNUGE as well as the Connalum triumvirate or AubreyNickBen in Alemania.

Next up, my parents visited. It was a good time, and I'll miss them 'til I see them next. A day trip to Oxford revealed the thousand and one facts, figures and crossbeams of the ancient university. And good weather all around!

Now the first wave of trips and visits has ended, so I'm heading back into the Uni mode of papers and (gulp) exams, with some more screenplay workings thrown in for flavo(u)r. Music, too. I went through my demo snippets today and I foresee some good things coming together with musically inclined friends all over.

End stretch. Get a good night's sleep. I love and miss all of you.

Binyam Mohammed Interview

This is the audio for the recent interview of Binyam Mohammed, a British resident recently freed from Guantanamo Bay by another former prisoner, Moazzam Begg, who I was lucky enough to see speak a month of so ago.

http://www.cageprisoners.com/media.php?id=935

U.S. citizens need to hold our leaders to account, because this kind of bullshit is not what I vote for every two years, regardless of party.

Kebab fury

I'm still here trucking along, friends. My connection to reality suffered a lapse for a few weeks due to a cavalcade of the unexpected unknown and unfortunate, but adventures have continued nonetheless.

Wales had over a week of beautiful, warm sunshine, which I got to really enjoy the tail end of in my own fashion. There were nights of searching and arguments about life, creativity, and how to interpret Hunter S. Thompson. There was sitting in the park reading On The Road and being distracted by all the happy dogs racing around in the sunshine. One particularly beautiful boxer caught my eye. If he hadn't been so clearly in ecstasy to be racing back and forth in Bute park, I might've been afraid of him -he was big, muscular and brown, like a larger male version of my cousins' old boxer, Zelda. His owner and two female friends were playing games with him; hide and seek, fetch, and all the rest. It's good to stop and watch the animals sometimes, even the dumb stumbling pigeons that I'm always worried are going to shit on me while I walk under the train bridge.

"0 to tasty in seconds: Rustlers"

Just yards away from the library entrance, I received a petition, a Socialist Newspaper and a free microwave cheeseburger at the same time.

Strange Times at TESCO

Standing in line to pay the few pounds for my Hoisin Duck wrap I overheard a group of girls discussing the pros and cons of freezing bread. "I was against it for the longest time! Like it would turn to poison!" I, caught in the midst of this exchange, remark that this is the most extreme bread concern I'd ever heard.

"Well," she replies, "My flatmate is also convinced that if you put a banana peel in the freezer, it will grow into a new banana."

NEWS FLASH

Seems like Treasury Secretary Tim Geithner's in a little hot water these days.
Is it because of his past ties to AIG?

(http://politicalticker.blogs.cnn.com/2009/03/18/gop-rep-calls-on-geithner-to-resign-or-be-fired/)

or...

Is it because he's MOLOCH THE MAGNIFICENT!?

(https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz2Q0ZfL6If-Hq6lXWRbG0PRKywyyFuwND9FGwL4g6XqYTlr-0jAgmaqYCxFb7OWuYvPw4g-2M9rmJEUFDlOgBUYemicAPgQ4VwpKzXqRhLe4NsIErVCDowROQ6KNA8JwRDM1eEFPeYoE/s400/watchmen_moloch_mystic.jpg)

Take a look, guys. I know. TERRIFYING. I, like everyone else, thought that Moloch had been iced by Ozymandias, but it seems that now, by some strange twist of fate and a change of identities, he has made his way into the Obama Administration.

Where's Dr. Manhattan when you need him...


Oh yeah. Mars.

Tyrannies of time & space

This term was used today in my Politics and Journalism lecture. Although the conversation was on the function of Vox Pops in the news media, it applies neatly to the situation this week. Wales, land of fog, mystery and VodkaRedbull has become freakishly sunny and wonderful. It's beautiful thing. Flowers are out, the air smells like opportunity and everything's cool.

This is not the week to be stuck inside finishing essays.

The forcast says it's gonna be like this through the weekend. Uh oh...

I'm ready for the country. It's time to go.

Sidenote: Best quote from a recent dream: "You've got a move about you...like Ace Frehly."
My subconscious is awesome.

The one where I steal Donald's format

Week: ?

Kebabs: Way, way too many

When faced with the prospect of sitting in my room for another night working on my papers, I voted no. Kevin had mentioned another "happy hour" with the Canadian Law crew and, having avoided social distraction for a whole week (my guitar is enough to distract me for hours. I can now play a Chris Bell song almost perfectly) I headed down to Royal Orleans.

I t sounds like this is going somewhere, doesn't it? Not so, apart from having a very nice night with good people.

Fun Fact: I ate at a Kebab Shop called The Chicago Bulls about half an hour ago. No shit.

I miss you guys. Keep it real. Play safe.

Sorry, Hannah

...but there's not a whole lot to report about Cardiff this week. I've been spending a lot of time staring at this very screen writing the essays that will allow me to stay here for the rest of the semester. I'll start having adventures again in the next few week. Promise.

Also, drop me a line if you want. I've done some cool stuff, but I don't bother putting it all in here because...ya know...I'm doing things.

The Eastern European transcendentals who give away free hats in Bute Park story is better as a folk tale than recorded fact anyway.

daze

It's always a good idea to tell the people who you love that you love them. It's impossible to know what's going to happen.

Damnit...

http://abclocal.go.com/wls/story?section=news/local&id=6687344

The Who Sell Out

My Syd Field book showed up in the mail today. Maybe this effects my integrity somehow (the TORTURE!) but I'm willing to accept any advice that gets my silly screenplay about Windsor written.

And no, I will not be plotting the whole thing on the paradigm.

Thanks for the mail, Mom & Dad!

London, Some Poems, the Byrds, and the Cardiff Occupation

The much-hyped London weekend has come and gone, leaving me with a lighter wallet and loads of empty calories. I was once again entertained by Mr. Gary Barker and his lovely ladyfriend, though I joined this time by some American compatriots. Benny "Bach" Martinson was there, along with crowds from Leeds and Bristol and Kevin, a new-ish Cardiff companion. Nothing spectacular to spew forth about London weekend. I can say it was fun. I can say that.

On yet another lead obtained from watching the walls of Bute Library for fliers I ended up at a recitation of some Eco Poetry tonight, courtesy of Susan Richardson. Throughout the duration of the talk it was clear that Susan has a great passion for things Environmental, and I wondered for a bit how this would fit in with her poetry. Actually, it worked quite well. She read in beat-like fashion - very stacatto, very exaggerated - about melting penguins, ice caps and relocated Icelandic families. Here book is called "Creatures of the Intertidal Zone." I didn't get my own copy, but it's worth checking out, if the selections she presented are any indication.

After poems and questions were through, I made the initial mistake of try to find my way out of the main building without assistance. I got down two hallways before I realized that I a) didn't know what the hell I was doing b) was surrounded by threateningly important science equiptment and c) didn't want to spend the night hopelessly wandering the halls. This is a very big, very old looking building. I'm sure there are ghosts.

Making my way back to the room to pick up a sherpa, I ran into Chris, who immediately guessed why i was walking back toward the lecture hall. I was lucky to run into this guy not only because he provided me with an escape route, but also because he shared with me an interest in a group of people we had heard mentioned in passing who were very intentionally spending the night in the main building.

Like so many other colleges and universities in the world this week, Cardiff has its own occupation. the goals of this group is to get the university to divest not only from stocks within or in support of the weapons industry, but also to bring attention to the humanitarian crisis in Gaza. In the lecure hall I saw some familiar faces from the Guantanamo Forum (one of whom, I believe, was the guy who filled me in on some stuff I omitted in my rant on that subject - thanks, man!) and got a welcome earful of information on the kinds of things that have been going on. What was most notable to me was that their actions had already yielded not only praise from numerous local groups (and Noam Chomsky) but that they had also managed to convince the administration to sell some of the questionable stocks. I would go on at greater detail about the kinds of events they've been putting on - dialogues, debates, lectures, video-links to Palestinian students - but I was only there for a brief few minutes. While I was happy that students not unlike myself were causing some progressive motion, I will say that there are probably few stranger feelings than walking out of an occupation after 20 minutes or so of conversation. I've got my escuses for not taking a fuller part (phone calls, reading, the prospect of deportation is I miss too many things, etc.) but certainly not unique in that I've got other things going on; these guys are missing their fair of engagements as well, I'm sure.

All said, the best I can do at present is to talk about it and encourage people I know to read about what's going on and, if they are so moved, to do something about it all.

On a totally apolitical note (there aren't many of those in this blog, are there?) I've been on a Byrds binge. So it's been a pretty good day, all and all.

Later dudez.

Where have I been?

Cardiff, mostly. My update frequency has been admittedly lame, but give me time...I'm finding out more about this strange little city every day.

I've also left out a bunch of things that happened in the past few weeks, mostly due to that firestorm of political / humanitarian rage that consumed me / this blog after the Guantanamo panel (still pissed off, by the way). I went to London and spent a fantastic weekend with one Gary Barker and his brother Sam. The mission was to intercept some Manitounians, which was mostly successful, even though we missed KG and Tambini. We also found many bars, some of them huge (one of which looked like the inside of a Catholic church) Mark Stagg, who is as cool as ever, and a fake Kiwi named Holly who claimed to be a chef with between 3 and 4 Michelin stars. He also claimed to be from San Francisco. He had that happy-come-volatile way about him that we just kept confusing him and making him laugh about things so that he wouldn't start swinging. I miss him already...

Went to Swansea the next weekend, where I was hosted and shown around the city by a pair of sisters and a network of other Swanseans. It was a nice weekend jaunt, but I got hit in the face by a nasty cold a few days before (a strange and excessive night out with Declan helped this along, but it was worth every sweat-drenched Metro minute) so I wasn't able to enjoy it to the very fullest. I did eat lots of pureed seaweed, deceptively called "Laverbread." It was not bread. It was very much seaweed.

Since then, I've been in and around Cardiff, looking for adventures and kindred souls. The two greatest discoveries thus far have been Milgi's and the Buffalo Bar. Milgi's is what my living room would look like if I ever became a successful filmmaker and had enough money to cover the wall with strange art / mirrors. Incidentally, Milgis is, more or less, my living room, where I've been going and (creepily) splaying out notecards to work on a feature-length screenplay. At those creative moments, I miss my screenwriting buddies, Tetz included, who provided so much good criticism. It's going okay, though.

ANYWAY...I spend a lot of time and money at this place. They have good foods. And 85% of the staff now knows me.

Buffalo Bar is my newest favorite place to end up. Unsurprisingly, I was lead there by a Brooklyn band, Crystal Stilts. That show was memorable, but more or less what I was expecting, although the openers, Wetdog, thorugh me for a bit of a loop. The sound was good - kinde like The Slits getting into a fistfight with Joy Division, with no clear winner - but the drummer was clearly pissed off about something throughout the set. Strange vibes. Crystal Stilts all seemed to be friends at least.

I didn't know at that moment that I would soon witness a show by the friendliest band in the world, Das Wanderlust. Here my (overlong) entry finally enters the VERY recent past. I was bored and knew that I didn't have class until 3 tomorrow, so I felt obligated to go and do something. Benny was hangin' with the Music kids, so I ended up back at Buffalo Bar to see what there was to see. The first band put me in a funk. Why do some bands base their entire repertoires on minor key faux-epics that are undoubtably about politics, even if you can't hear the words. Ugh. I didn't get this group's name and didn't really care. Technically proficient but just...too much 'cool' and not enough fun.

Das Wanderlust, on the other hand were cool-fun-awesome-precocious-awesome times 10. By the end of their set, which managed to make 3 people sound like an army of cute robots with toy pianos and fuzz pedals, I was sold 100%.

I'll stop gushing, but really. Check this band out.

myspace.com/daswanderlust

If you got to the bottom...wow. Good job! Thanks!

Short Pointless Monday Update

The economy is fucked. The government is still blowing people up. Dick Cheney refuses to disappear.

And today's best CNN.com video headline: Obama Bumps his Head.

In a perfect world, I'd just start reading New York Times, but CNN is too alluring. They're widely viewed and somewhat acceptable in their coverage...and then entire months go by where the top story is Anna Nicole Smith dying.

There's a film society fancy dress (read: costume) party on valentines day with the theme "famous couples." Since I don't really know anyone in this town (and I don't think Declan's up for it) I've been trying to think of something appropriate that I can do on my own. The best option so far is Eric Cartman and Jennifer Lopez, but...I don't know. Could I go as both Gavin AND Stacey (British T.V. joke. Sorry, Americans. Just pretend I said 'Dharma AND Greg')? It'll be very positive, either way. I'm hoping I'll find some common ground in the Film Society crowd. The JOMEC PhD Film Club is pretty cool (shout outz) so my intution is that the odds are pretty good. Either way, I've still got the city, the GORGEOUS countryside, my shitty little travel guitar and movies like Role Models to go and see.

Role Models is really funny, if you were wondering. That McLovin guy rules. And most of The State is in it.

Chris Arendt & Moazzam Begg

Here are a few videos I found of two of the guys from the panel.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bdX1h7CkzE8
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UolZz_iq3Ms&NR=1
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P5RTiqr0jaM&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=41m5_lmWUMU

Clarification

I might've made it sound like I was a Sprinsteen hater back there. Not so. Jann's just obsessed. I realized as I published that that I had, in fact, passed out last night (this morning?) blasting Born to Run on my headphones. It strangely suited the mood.

Why I no longer subscribe to Rolling Stone

If Rolling Stone were a word, i think it'd be SPRINGSTEENdemocratdeppsnarkSPRINGSTEENsnarksteveperry-
-fogeyismrevisionismbutfuckgeorgelucasism
-SPRINGTEENblablahblahsnoreTHEJANNWANNERINTERVIEW.

My God, where does all this anger come from...

Going to watch The Battle of Algiers at Bute now. I've heard great things, so it won't disappoint, hopefully. I wonder if every event I go to NEXT week will also have to do with the shameless exploitation and imprisonment of Muslims as well. I'd go into detail at this point about the AMAZING panel discussion I went to last night, but that's a half-written entry just waiting to be finished.

Cheers!...er...later.

Guantanamo Bay Comes to Cardiff

[Note: I might be going over this and making some revisions and / or updates in the coming weeks, but I felt it was important to get a draft out while it was still fairly fresh in my mind.]

It was fittingly ironic that the first thing I read when I returned from the Great Hall was an e-mail from the U.S. Marine Corps. offering me a paid summer internship. Clearly in recognition of the new, more left-leaning Bossman, the text was peppered with references to the "failure of corporate America to police itself" and the faltering economy. My eyes were drawn, as they were, of course, meant to be, to a capitalized segment near the end, PROMISING that I would not be obliged to actively serve, that this wasn't the ROTC.

Had the good Sgt. known where I had come from only moments before...well, he probably still would have sent the damn thing. It's his job, isn't it? Well done, Sarge.

This kind of entry isn't what I typically do, but I'd honestly feel like a fraud and liar if I didn't make some sort of mention of what I attended in the Great Hall at the Cardiff University Students' Union. Along with a few thousand fellow students and citizens, I had the IMMENSE privilege to hear the stories of three men who spent from 1 to 6 years at the Guantanamo detention center. Furthermore, while two were prisoners, one was a 23 year old from Chicago who had joined the National Guard when he was 17 in order to get a college education.

Needless to say, that isn't exactly what ended up happening. Now the irony of that e-mail kicks in.

The first speaker was a British citizen named Moazzam Begg, who was taken from his residence in Pakistan in the middle of the night by U.S. and Pakistani forces. After a period of time, he ended up at the detention center in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. The Second speaker, whose name I don't recall, was held in Gitmo for 6 years. Both men were tortured, berated and held without formal charges. They were also innocent.

Rather than transposing from memory the detailed content from the panel, which would hardly do it justice, I think it's more apt for me to relate my personal feelings. I was, first and foremost, horrified. Here were three men who suffered through the trials and misfortunes of the alleged "War on Terror" that we read about statistically every day, yet rarely, as citizens, are made to face on any sort of visceral, personal level. In my circles, which are, admittedly, fairly progressive, opposition to the CONCEPT of Guantanamo Bay and other similar facilities - aptly described by Chris Arendt, the American Guardsmen as Concentration Camps - is routine but, ultimately, alien. At Connecticut College, or Kimball Union Academy, or Brooks School, or, to an extent, in Windsor, Vermont, these constructs, as atrocious and terrifying as they may be, remain merely concepts pieced together from bits of secondary information. God willing, neither myself or my loved ones will EVER have to face the realities from which these shadowy ideas are constructed. In hearing firsthand the very real atrocities that are being committed against everyday people BY everyday people, I, as a human being, American citizen and critic, am forced to wonder: "Why not me?"

Chris' situation hit as hard as those of Begg and his fellow detainee. Chris described how, upon hearing that his company was being sent to Guantanamo (he was trained to fire cannons, by the way), he did everything he could to get out of it to no avail. Against his will, he was sent to guard a camp full of abused, innocent people. "It turns out," Chris told us, "that it's easy to run a concentration camp. You just follow orders. You go to work. You do your job." After his tour ended (though he was only at Gitmo for a year) he was terminally angry and is currently homeless. He's one of the lucky ones too, when i think about it. I remember reading not too long ago a New Yorker feature about an ex-Marine who, though zealous and proud of his service, was dirven to suicide after several tours in Iraq. Even this week, I'm reading about how more and more soliders are blowing themselves away every month, just following orders and doing their jobs.

It was not, for the most part, an uplifting night, but there was an air of hope in the presentation. Here were three men who chose to come together to oppose something that they knew was wrong, despite their differences. Begg, like many other former detainees, regularly speaks out against inhumanity, and has founded and organization called Cageprisoners to further this cause. Chris, a member of Iraq Veterans Against the War, came over from Illinois and ended up befriending some of the same men who he had guarded at the camp. Despite the anger that I was feeling at the time, the importance of their common cause was far from lost on me.

I like to think that I learned something from these three men. Atrocity transcends politics. As happy as I may be that many of the people who authorized these forms of torture have been democratically ousted from power in America I am no longer happy to rest on my laurels and take faith that their successors will be able to put an and to it all. Now that the panel's just a memory, I still feel traces of the energy in the overfilled lecture hall. There were some truly dumbass questions posed by a couple of ignorant audience members (one woman sheepishly brought up the holocaust without really posing any sort of question, while another guy tried to deride Begg for making money from his books. He was kidnapped and tortured, for fucks sake! How can you give somebody shit when they've responded by devoting their lives to promoting human rights and going on lecture tours...oh man...), knowing that a few thousand of people in Cardiff, not to mention the thousands upon thousands all across the world, were being informed, getting pissed, and standing in opposition to the inhumanity and detestable actions that have spattered blood all over the first decade of this century left me with a greater sense of purpose. I, like all of the others, can do my own part.

Check out:

Enemy Combatant: The Terrifying True Story of a Briton in Guantanamo by Moazzam Begg
Road to Guantanamo, a film by Michael Winterbottom
The Battle of Algiers, a film by Gillo Pontecorvo

Media overdose survivor

It's a pretty strange time to be an American. My country is going slowly crazy as grown men respond to lost job by blowing away themselves and their nuclear families, immigrants take up refuge under abandoned houses, and things seem generally fucked up. Reading the news on CNN, BBC, New York Times, etc., I'm acutely aware of how lucky I am right now.

I'm also aware that Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich is whining like a child all over network news and the talk show circuit, expecting us all to honestly believe that he is "innocent." Fuck that. I don't even think that Rod himself thinks he's innocent. He wants every American (and probably a handful of curious foreigners) with television or the internet to remember his smarmy face and multi-syllabic surname so that in a few months, after the inevitable signing of the book deal (has this happened yet? Probably) he can make mint on his own oversupply of lameness. It's a time honored tradition, man. Knock yourself out! The Bill O'Reillys, Rush Limbaughs, O.J. Simpsons and, yes, Keith Olbermanns of the world (sorry man - we're in agreement, but you come off as a cartoon) are living proof that if you can bray like a jackass on television for long enough for people to know who you are, you can sell a shitload of books to a nation of "readers" and top the New York Times bestseller list in your sleep i.e. the part of the day when you're not flapping your jaw about whogivesaratsass.

The Economist claims that the number of readers in America is growing. This is actually good news.

PHEW.

Wales is cool.

I say Cardiff, you say Caerdydd!

21/1/09 (that's how they do around these parts.)

Yesterday's transfer to Cardiff...not all that bad, but full of unexpected kinks. Our ride from London went smoothly, but the bus driver, maybe excited, maybe just hopelessly weird, spent nearly the whole ride expounding upon the six of us his historical knowledge of England and Cardiff. Most of it was pretty interesting, to be honest, but at 7:30 in the morning...I would have preferred sleep. He also nearly brought us to Swansea, due to a tangent he went on about his daughter living there (one of many). Later, he drove away with our backpacks in the passenger area after assuring us that he'd unload eveything. Someone had to hunt him down at a bus stop. By that point, I wasn't all that surprised.

In the afternoon (already fucking raining...) I went on a trek to buy some cookware and bedsheets. I came back with a raincoat, overlong in the arms and no sheets. Oops.

Later, I went to the Student Union bar - The Taf - in an attempt at sparking conversation, being social, etc. but knowing no one, I floundered a bit, over tipping the bartender (these £1 coins...something to get used to. I was also later told by Parker that no one tips bartenders here, so she probably assumed I was hitting on her) before striking up conversation with two engineering dudes, James and Eddie. I will probably never see James or Eddie again. Thanks for being kind to the confused American, mates.

Fatigue & Guinness finally prevailing, I headed back to Synghenydd to get some sleep and was faced once again with my lack of sheets. thinking quickly, I unbuttoned the cover of my duvet (read- comforter) and climbed in.

MacGyver.

London 1: The Kingdom in the Flesh

I know FOR SURE that I formatted this blog before I left the states. What happened? Why this empty shell.

Not important. I am in London and, in the first of many first, am not confined to Heatrow like I was the last time (though, arguably, I could have left. Was that a Nabil decision or a Me decision? Lost to time and foggy memory). On of my first excursions onto the street, in search of a cell (MOW-BILE) phone, I almost immediately got caught in a hellish deluge of painful white hail and, shortly thereafter, very, very cold rain. As usual, I was wearing a sweater, and entered the Car Phones store looking like a drowned rat with a funny accent. My Americanness is already making me self conscious, and it's barely been six hours. This will pass, I have to reassure myself.

More on all of this later. Writing in the lobby isn't ideal.

Play nice.