First night here in Albany. It’s hard to believe that this day started at 4:23am. Let me fill you in on it.

I got into Ryan and Ben’s place in Chicago at about 10:20-ish. We hung out for a little bit and watched some MASH. Then, they went to bed because they had to get up for work. But not before they gave me directions for how to get to the appropriate subway/bus entrances, etc. We hit the sack around midnight, and I planned to get up at about 4:15am in order to get to O’Hare by 6am, one hour before my 7am flight. I set my alarm for 4:15 and went to sleep.

At some point later, I was uncomfortable on the couch I was sleeping on. So I woke up. “God, this sucks.� I thought. “Thank god the alarm hasn’t gone off yet – that means I’ve still got time to sleep.� No sooner had I thought this than I rolled over and decided to go back to sleep. But, before I could return to a state of slumber, I decided that it might be prudent to check my phone to see how long I had to sleep before I had to wake up. So I looked at the phone and, to my horror, saw that it was 4:23am. My alarm hadn’t gone off.

“Fuck,� I thought. Fortunately, I had gone to sleep in my “travel clothes� and I was ready to go in minutes. I had to walk about a third of a mile. I covered the distance quickly and was on the El in no time. Then I took a bus and then the Blue Line up to O’Hare. I checked in and everything was in motion.

My flight was pretty much event-free. A simple flight from O’Hare to Detroit, and then to Albany. PJ’s friend picked me up at the airport and dropped me off at PJ and Karen’s place. There I saw one of my best friends from college, Chris, for the first time in years. It was great to see him and his girlfriend, Roxanna. We hung out for a while, walked around, checked out the local scene.

Empire State Plaza, by the way, is one of the ugliest places I’ve ever seen. And extremely Orwellian, to boot. I swear, I saw the Ministry of Truth (Min True).

Finally, PJ got off of work and we met up with him. Then we picked up Karen. It was the first time in years that so many of my good friends from Flagstaff were in one place. It was a great feeling.

We feasted on a meal of PJ’s excellent home-made fettuccini alfredo (I want to take a moment to recognize the fact that PJ insisted that it had to be fettuccini. When we were at the market, he and Karen were sure that they had fettuccini at home, so we didn’t buy any. When we arrived back home, PJ discovered, to his horror (and his alone) that he didn’t have fettuccini. Instead, he had only linguini. Now, I don’t see the difference between fettuccini and linguini, except that one isn’t as wide as the other. But they taste the same and (as Karen and I demonstrated most effectively) consist of the exact same ingredients. So, why PJ insisted that we had to go for a twenty minute drive in search of fettuccini is beyond me.) and then commenced drinking. As much as it pains me, I have to admit that PJ’s home-brew beer was, in a word, awesome.

Then, we went to a bar here in Albany called Mohar’s or something. It’s this bar where you sign in and, based on what you’ve had in the past, you get a print-out of various beers you can order. It was actually an awesome bar.

After that, we somehow crammed 8 people into a normal Crown Victoria taxi. The cab driver told us that the two girls had to go in the front and the 6 guys in the back. It was a tight fit, but we managed to do it. This was one of the proudest moments of my life. We actually got applause when we closed the door on the thing. The thing that sucked about it is that we actually broke on of the guy’s doors. Still, we got the door closed and the guy sitting closest to that door managed not to fall out. We got dropped off, all exited from the driver’s side door (so as to not let on that the passenger’s side door was broken), paid, and got the fuck out of there.

Then, we came back and played some Flagstaff-style asshole (I’ll teach you all the rules soon), drank, discussed various super-important things, and then passed out.

Or, rather, everyone except me passed out. Now I’m blogging, I guess. Expect further updates during the trip and pictures to come soon enough.

Tomorrow we drive to Hartford and I see Frank for the first time in a year – on the day before his wedding. Frank, you’re my oldest friend, and I can’t convey how excited I am to see you tie the knot or how honored I am to be one of your groomsmen.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (7)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Hanging Out With My Friends

Hello, everyone, and welcome to the new and improved Here is No Why!

I decided to move the blog for several reasons. First off, I wanted to have the ability to completely customize the blog. Right now, I've pretty much copied over the format from the blog on blogspot, but that may change in the future. Please let me know what you think of the few changes that have been made. Some of these changes include some added graphics, a changed "recent comments" feature, and the ability to search the blog. I searched for the word "fuck" and it really is quite ridiculous how often I use that word.

Another reason for the change is that I hated having to depend on other webpages to host my blog's pictures. Having my own domain gives me access to a server with a significant amount of storage, so I can now host all the pictures on the blog myself.

I also love the fact that I now have categories. There were ways to implement this at blogspot, but they were awkward and ungainly. The system Movable Type allows me to use is much more streamlined ad awesome.

Finally, as you'll notice, my name doesn't appear anywhere on this blog. While Here is No Why remains my blog, and I haven't gone anonymous, I at least want to minimize the possibility that a potential employer will find my blog simply by searchig for my name and the city I live in. In keeping with this, I ask that you please not use my real name in the comments (which also have updated functionality). Instead, please refer to me by some other alias. My preferred one is "Ismael Tapia II," which is how I'm signing my posts now. Ismael Tapia was the name of my uncle, after whom I am named, so I figured this would be an appropriate alias. Other names that clearly refer to me are also acceptable, such as: Mad Dawg, A-Mart, Douche-Slayer, and, of course (and unfortunately) Soft Hands. So, there.

I'm currently in the process of moving my posts from the old blog to this one. January is all the way done and February is half-way done. You'll notice that comments have also been moved over. That's because half the fun of the blog, for me, is what you guys say in response to my stupid shit.

One more thing. Having my own domain gives me the ability to have email addresses at that domain. Therefore, please feel free to email me at Ismael@thisishereisnowhy.net from now on. That'll probably be more permanent than my wiscmail account.

I'm in Connecticut/New York this weekend for my friend Frank's wedding. I'll be back Sunday. This is the first of the big projects I've been promising you guys. The second will be posted (hopefully) next week.

In the mean time, please let me know what you think of the new format, etc., and please read up on my thoughts on Superman Returns, a movie you all need to see.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 5:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)| Filed under General Remarks

Wow. I stand before you, a puddle of fanboy joy. My mind, honestly, cannot comprehend the awesomeness that was Superman Returns. I'm going to go spoiler free here, so please read on.

I just got back from watching Superman Returns with Cole and Kristin. They didn't like it as much as I did. So please take everything I'm about to say with a grain of salt.
Having thus disclaimed . . .

I really, honestly, truly, have never been so blown away by a first-time movie watching experience. I've been excited about movies before. Star Wars. Lord of the Rings. Star Wars always disappointed me. Even Revenge of the Sith, which was awesome, disappointed. Lord of the Rings disappointed me. Even though Fellowship and Return of the King are two of the best movies ever made (Two Towers wasn't bad).

Never, ever, have I not been disappointed. Except tonight. Superman Returns was, simply put, the best movie-going experience I've ever had.

My opinion may change, my enthusiasm dampen, after a few more viewings and a few more days. But, right now, there is simply nothing I can say about the movie that can bring me down from where I am.

The action was awesome, but it didn't overwhelm. It had its place in the story, it belonged. The plot could have been better, honestly, but it almost didn't matter. The main focus, as I see it, wasn't Lex Luthor's evil scheme, it was the relationship between Superman and Lois. Look, this thing wasn't a chick-flick. But it had this feeling, a feeling of loss and nostalgia. A feeling of regret. Superman's costume is made of primary colors, but his world is not all bright and sunny. None of the Superman movies had explored that with such depth and emotion.

Superman Returns gives us a Superman that is what he is because he knows he has to be. In the comic books, someone asked Superman why he did what he did. Superman responded: "Because no one else can." That's what comes across here.

Early in the film, when Clark Kent has to go save the day, there's a moment of hesitation, a moment of regret. He knows what he has to do, and he'll do it, but he wishes it wasn't so. It reminded me of when I used to work at the TV station in Flagstaff and I had to work overnight Friday and Saturday nights. I hated not being around for all the fun my friends were having. But I had to do it. That's how Superman felt, I think.

The movie was beautiful. It was lush and exciting and gorgeous. I can't believe how awesome the flying was. I just can't. They turned the music down so low when Superman was flying, even at the speed of sound, you couldn't help but feel a serenity about it - something that just was't there in the Christopher Reeve films. But, here, again, there was a conflict. At time it seemed that Superman loved flying, and just wished he could do it for fun, rather than have to go speeding off to save people.

The entire movie was permeated with a deep feeling of melancholy. He does what he has to do, but regrets what it costs him. I was on the edge of my seat the whole time. I knew Superman would win the battle against Lex Luthor. But that wasn't what really mattered. The movie shows us what has always been the case: Superman's greatest weakness is that he's not one of us, not matter how he tries. And it brings him to a point where all super heroes have to be: a point where he wishes he could trade it all in, but knows he can't. That's what good super hero storytelling on a grand scale is all about, if you ask me.

From start to finish, I was emotionally involved in this thing. I got shudders every few minutes, and I got a lump in my throat a few times.

There were many nods to the prior Superman movies. A crack about how flying is the safest way to fly. The poses Brandon Routh struck while he flew - down to the motion of his arms and the position of his feet. And, at the very end, the traditional, classic, fly-by in the upper atmosphere.
Just . . . wow. This movie is better than Spiderman, in my opinion, by leaps and bounds. It is, unequivocally, the best super hero movie ever made. And it is very close, in my estimation, to being one of the best movies ever made, period.

Go see this thing.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)| Filed under Fun Shit I've Done , General Awesomeness , Movie Reviews , Superman

So, I decided that I was looking like a hippie. Therefore, I went to a barber shop down the street from my apartment. I had never been there before. I asked for a haircut, sat down, and waited a while.

After a few minutes, I was called into the haircut area and the woman asked me what I wanted done with my hair. This isn't an easy question for me: I don't know what looks good or anything, so I just gave her some basic instructions. I told her to cut the hair around my neck and ears so that my hair would stay off my collar and I wouldn't look so dishevelved. But she was still all confused, especially when I told her to leave the hair on the top of my head (now long enough to come to the bottom of my nose) untouched. She laughed.

Now, listen, I might not have any idea what's up with hair, but I've gotten a few compliments on my hairstyle lately and, damnit, I'm going to keep the long hair. There's no need to laugh.

In any event, the entire ordeal was over pretty soon.

Basically, though, I wish I could just go into a hair place, give some very basic instructions, and come out looking awesome. Is that impossible?

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 2:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)| Filed under Existential Nonsense

Everything I've written on guitar lately sucks. I can't come up with a cool sounding riff or chord progression, much less an actual coherent song. And I won't even talk about the lyrics. I just can't fid a way of saying what I want to say without actually saying it. Maybe the problem is that I don't even know what I want to say.

I've always thought it was strange when people said things like "I don't know how I feel." How could that be, I thought: you have direct access to all the relevant information. How could you not know how you feel? What a strange world it must be, I thought, to be not even be able to tell me how you feel.

But here I am, and I honestly don't know how I feel. The word "sad" just isn't really doing it anymore. It's not that I'm feeling something deeper or more extreme than sadness - I'm not depressed or anything - but that word just doesn't seem to be accurate. Other words seem closer: nostalgic, regretful, mornful. But they don't really hit the mark, either.

This brings to mind an interesting debate. Wittgenstein argues (at least I think he does - who really knows?) that language must come before thought. For Wittgenstein, it was nonsensical to postulate a thought that was not forumalated in language. This argument always seemed flawed to me, though. Wittgenstein says that you need language in order to have thoughts. But he never explains, and I don't see how he could explain, how a language could come into being without thought preexisting it. Simply put: if we're all sitting around in a Wittgenstein-ian world, pre-language, we can't think. Without thought, how can we so much as have the impulse, the desire, the ability to begin to build our language? There's simply no way to emerge from the pre-lingual stage to the post lingual state. Wittgenstein's analysis is, therefore, I believe, incorrect.

But let's say that thought did come first, as I believe it must have. The question must still be addressed: to what extent can I have a thought and not express it in language form? In 1984, the Party has begun the process of replacing English, or "Old Speak," with Newspeak, a condensed form of English that doesn't have as many adjectives and with a severely restricted vocabulary. Through Newspeak, the Party hopes to limit the range of ideas that people can have, thereby ensuring everlasting control: if the people can't think to revolt, then they never will.

But I wonder if this is true. Let's say that Newspeak eliminated the word "unjust." Would humanity then lose the ability to detect injustice? Or would we still think or feel that something was unjust and then have to talk our way through it, with paragraphs or pages expressing the idea we express now with the word "unjust?" And what if the words that made up those paragraphs and pages were taken from us, too? How could we ever make another human being know that we thougth something was unjust?

So what does this have to do with anything? I don't know really, other than that I feel like any attempt to explain my current emotional state would be . . . inadequate. It would be like using "double-plus bad" when what you mean is "evil." You can add all the superlatives you want to "bad," it still doesn't come close to the meaning of the word "evil."

I don't know, man.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 2:02 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Life Sucks Sometimes , Philosophical Rants

I want to write something right now, but I don't know what I want to write, so I'm just going to start writing and see what happens.

I'm listening to "Ava Adore" by the Smashing Pumpkins right now. That's a decent song.

I heard tonight that one of my most hated people at the Law School, let's call him "The Lord of All That Is Douche-ie," has a "really hot" girlfriend. Not surprising, really, since that's what this guy's all about. It's also not surprising that this guy turned in all his potential mate capital for a girl who's physically attractive but who, I'm sure, has no substance. Am I a horrible person for thinking that, because this girl's hot, she must be stupid? If I thought that, maybe I would be a bad person. But that's not why I think she's stupid. I think she's stupid because she's choosing to spend any amount of time at all with the Lord of All That Is Douche-ie. The fact is I was stuck in an evelator with that guy once, and I barely made it out alive; the power of the Douche nearly overwhelmed me.

I want to reiterate that saying "I hate white people" is just as dispicable and racist as saying "I hate black people."

I also want to take this time to reiterate that involuntary female circumcision is completely, objectively, horrendously wrong.

I got to drive a Toyota Prius today. Pretty sweet.

In the past 48 hours, one of the lawyers at work implicitly complimented my intelligence several times. That pretty much made my days.

The truth is that I have a million things running through my head right now. I feel like going on a drive and listening to Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness over and over again. I feel like driving to Maple Bluff (the richest part of Madison) and looking at houses I can't afford. I really like doing that for some reason. The last time I did that by myself was during the first year of law school when I was feeling pretty shitty about some things that happened. But I don't really feel too bad right now, really. Or maybe I do? I don't know.

I think I miss my friends. Fuck, I just realized that. Lots of my friends are gone and, even worse, the friends that are here are constantly busy. As am I, but still.

You know, I went to Murimoto's tonight. It's this Japanese/French fusion place. I've heard an overwhelming amount of good things about it. Literally, everyone who's talked about it has praised it. So, when Rachel and J.Mart invited me to join them for dinner there, I was very excited. I met them, we decided to sit down, and I prepared to be overwhelmed by awesomeness.

We kept sitting and sitting, and no one came to give us menus, take our drink orders or even simply acknowledge our existence. Finally, J.Mart went back inside and told them we were waiting for some service. Apparently, the woman inside said something like "Oh, we didn't know you had sat down," which was bullshit because they had seated us. Whatever.

So, finally some guy comes out and hands us menus. We look them over, and I immediately know what I want: miso soup, a shrimp tempura roll and an eel and avocado roll. When the guy comes back to take our drink orders, we're all ready. I order the above, plus an Amstel Light. Rachel orders some vegetarian bullshit. J.Mart orders some duck mango roll, something else, and they order some Japanese Slaw (whatever the fuck that is) for the table. Rachel and J.Mart order a bottle of plum wine to share. We all order miso soup. The waiter does't write anything down. I thought about saying something, but I decided that, hey, it's an up-scale restaurant, he must know what he's doing.

About ten minutes later, we have not yet received our drinks. Finally, the Slaw comes out. It's crap. At least, I don't like it. But Rachel and J.Mart enjoy it, although they say that there's not enough dressing. I wouldn't know. Eventually, after about 20 minutes, we still have not received our drinks. I go inside and politely ask what's up with our drinks, and I'm told that they'll get right on that. The waiter comes outside a few minutes later and explains to the women that they have just enough plum wine for one glass, and it's their last bottle. J.Mart and Rachel decide that J.Mart will have a glass of the plum wine and Rachel will have something else. The waiter didn't mention a shortage of Amstel Light, so I wonder why I still don't have a drink. We also request more dressing for the slaw.

Literally about ten minutes later, the waiter brings out the womens' drinks but, inexplicably, not my Amstel Light. Then he brought out some food. I reiterated my request for Amstel Light. The food was decent, not spectacular. And there was no soy sauce, which I regard as a travesty for sushi. I request some soy sauce, and eventually get a tiny little saucer (the kind you usually put soy sauce in for sushi) with a tiny amount of soy sauce in it. Fine. Still, however, I have no Amstel Light and the miso soup, which was supposed to be our first course, has not yet come.

We ask a waitress who brought us some of our food (not our waiter) why the miso soup might be taking so long. She only offers that "it just comes out as it comes out." A fine response, except that they're not back there making the miso soup from scratch; they've got it in a big fucking pot, and what we're basically asking them to do is ladle some into a bowl. Whatever. For the time being, we have some food.

Eventually, the women decide to have another round of drinks. The waiter reiterates that there's no more plum wine, so Rachel orders a beer and J.Mart orders some champagne. Still no miso soup. By this time, I've ordered more sushi and decide that I don't need miso soup, so I tell the waiter to please cancel my order of miso soup. He says "oh, right, I forgot. Sorry." Then I ask him whether he remembered that the rest of the people also ordered miso soup, and he responds that he forgot. So I remind him that we did and ask him to please bring us some. He does, and it's horrible. I only decided to get some afterall because I was told that it was great miso soup. But it wasn't. Rachel and J.Mart both agree that it's crap, and comment that it's usually much better.

At this point, it's been about an hour and a half and we've just gotten what was supposed to be our first course, and it's crap. So I tell the waiter that the soup is bad and that we're not paying for it. I know, maybe I went overboard, but I was really pissed. This was literally the worst service I've ever gotten at a restaurant. And, just to be clear, we were the only outside table, and there were about ten people inside the bar. It would, of course, be different if the place was packed, but it was fucking dead. At one point, when we asked why our drinks were taking so long, we were told that it was because there wasn't a bartender. Find, I guess, except that I didn't order a fucking strawberry daquiri with fresh strawberries. I ordered a beer. Take the cap off. Or don't, I don't care. Just give me the bottle, charge me $7 and get it over with.

Subsequent orders took forever (apparetly it's cool to order on a rolling basis at this place). Not cool. Moreover, the waiter seemed apathetic to our plight. Finally, we got the check. I expected my total to be about $40. The shocker was that J.Mart's tiny glass of champagne (which she said was shitty) cost $16! Seriously, did the waiter just assume that we go around ordering $16 glasses of champagne for shits and giggles? I'm sorry, but if I'm ordering a drink that costs half as much as my meal, give me some fucking warning. Also, what the fuck, are my drink choices at this place tap water and Crystale Rose?

I was pretty much done with the place. The service was litterally horrible, with no attempts to rectify the situation. I insisted on leaving no tip, which, for me, is a dractic measure but one that was perfectly warranted here.

So that's what's on my mind.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Life Sucks Sometimes , Philosophical Rants , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry , Restaurant and Bar Reviews , The Smashing Pumpkins

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Funny Shit

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (14)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Rants , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry , Reviews

I have to admit that I've been really down lately. Not a big deal, it'll pass. Still, it sucks. Especially on days like today, which was a pretty good day.

It didn't start out like it would be, though. First of all, I had to be up just as early as on a weekday because of the Law Review "Strategic Planning Meeting." I won't comment too much on that because it won't be interesting to anyone who wasn't there or who hasn't already heard about it.

In any event, that wrapped up at about 3. The we dispersed momentarily. S.Admin.E. and I added our newly-acquired lamps to the Law Review office, although they're not doing much right now because there aren't any lightbulbs. After that, we all reconvened and went to a Mallards game, the Mallards being the local minor league baseball team. Kinda fun.

Then we went over to SAE's place and played drinking Trivial Pursuit with 40s. Good times.

Eventually, the party moved over to Brocach, which neither S.Admin.E. or I felt like going to, so we went to her apartment and watched an episode of Firefly. After that, I left and reunited with some of the Law Review people and found a very drunk ex-EIC. Really interesting.

Then, finally, the night wrapped up at the Bou, a local dive bar.

I didn't drink too much (other than the 40) because, honestly, I feel like death because I've been getting such little sleep lately. Tomorrow, I have to go into the office at some point, but it doesn't really matter - I'm sleeping in hard core.

Here's what's been bothering me, though. I usually default to hating people. If I don't know anything about you, I'll assume that you're a douchebag (or whatever the appropriate and analagous term for a woman is). If, however, after a few interactions you've demonstrated your coolness, I will change sides, and it'll now be up to you to prove that you're a tool, rather than that you're not.

I fucking hate it, hate it, when people rebutt the initial presumption of douchebag only to later offer irrefutable proof that they are, in fact, a giant tool. It's disappointing and . . .

I don't know. It makes me feel lonely. I've mentioned this several times in the past. I try hard every day to be the best person I can be. Usually, I fall far short of where I'd like to be or where I should be. But I try.

I guess I just don't understand why some people wouldn't even try.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:35 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Life Sucks Sometimes , Rants , Wisconsin Law Review

You know, I saw something the other day that sort of made me really happy. I saw these two people holding hands. It just seemed like the right thing for them to do to me. It just seemed to click.

I don't know. Perhaps I'm a naive romantic. But it was heartwarming.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense

You know . . . I bought this coffee table at IKEA. And I expected it to be black, like the display model. But I got it home and it was a very light wood color. That's ok, I guess, but I really like black, and I really wanted a black coffee table.

I thought about putting the coffee table, unassembled, back in the box. But I said "fuck it," and I put it all together. Maybe I'd come to love my cream-colored table. I spent a few hours putting it together. It was kinda fun. Smash was confused, and he kept attacking the bag with all the hardware in it.

Eventually, I built a nice table. But I wasn't satisfied. Sure, I had a table. I had a coffee table. The exact style I liked. But it's not what I wanted. I feel unsatisfied and . . . empty.

Today, I found out that even the display model wasn't actually black - it was "espresso." So even what I was aiming for wasn't really what I wanted.

So now maybe I'll paint it black, like the Rolling Stones. But I wonder if it'll look as good as it would if it had come black from the store. The wood grain won't show through, and I don't know how I feel about that. On the other hand, if I paint it, the table will be black, not espresso or cream, which is exactly what I wanted.

So what else am I supposed to do? Maybe I'll wait until I graduate and get a job and I'll just start all over. And I can give my coffee table to an undergrad who wants one that color.

But maybe by then I will have grown attached. I don't know.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:25 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Life Sucks Sometimes , Potentially Entirely Unhelpful Analogies