Monthly Archives: February 2010

I hope you appreciated the survey I just filled out for you. It probably wasn’t actually very helpful, but I wanted you to get the opinion of the people who otherwise might not fill out your stupid survey — i.e., the people who don’t give a shit about your stupid survey.

I loved my college. I met some of my best friends there; I had a great time; I learned a lot about myself, about history, and about how to juggle substance abuse with attending class, doing homework, and going to work — and I’d like to think I was quite good at it.

However, what my college experience did not teach me was how to get a decent job in the real world, or any skills pertaining to acquiring such a ‘decent job’. No, it taught me how to be a hoity-toity white-tower academic. I’m not complaining; had I my druthers I’d be in graduate school right now, writing papers, reading books and turning up my elegantly-formed nostrils at ‘pop history’.

But I’ve lost my druthers. Druthers are gone. I have no druthers.

I’m working at a fucking convenience store. Three nights a week. As I mentioned in your survey, when you asked me for money. Fuck you, I am absolutely not giving you any money. I can’t even make my own rent. I can’t even come close to making rent if you factor in the fact that my life is more or less a cold brackish misery bath and I drink myself to sleep at night because otherwise I’d keep myself up coughing (from smoking so many cigarettes).*

I had a great time while I attended your beautiful campus, alma mater. Don’t get me wrong. It was probably the best place for me to go to school; my professors were fantastic; the people were great and the parties were epic. But I didn’t give a shit about any of your alumni association/service project/sports/magazine/SCHOOL SPIRIT while I went there — why do you think I care now? I didn’t even go to my own convocation senior year. (Also, this is an aside, but make your fucking website more difficult to navigate why don’t you. I just spent five minutes trying to figure out what the word for that thing I didn’t go to was.)

Alma mater, stop sending me things. I’m not going to volunteer, I’m not going to give you money, and I’m not going to any of your alumni events — all of my fucking friends are alumni, I don’t particularly feel the need to hang out with the ones I’m not friends with. So I guess what I’m getting at is, eat a plate of dicks, alumni association, and stop sending me things.

With regards, fond memories, and bitterness,



*this is a slight exaggeration.


Thirty pages into both novels I can tell that I a.) adore Thomas Pynchon and b.) dislike Ian McEwan.

Also I read two dopey British murder mysteries yesterday, now that is a genre I thoroughly enjoy.

I don’t have anything particularly insightful to say about this, except that the it creeps me out so much more than regular warfare. These Ender’s Game-like drones trivialize warfare to an absolutely unacceptable extent, doing so much more than simply dehumanizing the enemy. At least with ordinary war tactics, opponents are considered alive, even if they’re Othered; here, they’re targets on a screen.

This is even creepier:

The military already grooms teenagers through a video game called America’s Army, explicitly designed to let the user “virtually experience Soldiering in the most realistic way possible.” The next step is to combine virtual combat with real consequences, by turning gamers into drone pilots. “The current generation of pilots was raised on the PlayStation, so we created an interface that they will immediately understand,” says one Raytheon spokesman. Another points out, “The Air Force will be able to recruit pilots who already have the dexterity required.” In fact, the Guardian reports that “operators could simply be trained to the requisite level of proficiency on … Xbox 360s or PlayStation 3s, rather than costly simulators.”

Hey kids! Join the army — it’s just like a video game.