For the first time in almost two months, we gathered at a table and played poker. It was awesome. The awesomeness culminated, I think, in Mr. Utah delivering the above line. I could give some context for the remark, I suppose, but I'm not going to.

Another of my favorite moments was when L-dawg lost a significant amount of money to Eugene, who's known for playing in a completely ridiculous fashion. On this particular occassion, Eugene beat L-dawg with a Jack-five off-suit. And that's after there was a significant preflop raise. I love watching L-dawg lose.

Bar/Bri sucks pretty hard. Bluebunny and I actually left early today so that we could go to the gym. Although I was fairly good about working out last summer (and by "pretty good" I mean "I went about once a week"), I've been completely worthless about it this summer, so it was awesome to go back. I'm pretty sure that my entire body is going to be sore tomorrow, but that's ok. I'm going to see if I can keep up the motivation to go at least three times a week.

For the past week or so, the weather here in Madison has been pretty much intolerable. I don't remember either of my past summers here being so fucking humid. But the humidity has taken a jump off the deep end this summer--it's been muggy and terrible. It's been so bad that, by the time I walk out my door at 8:30am, it's already about 85 with what seems like 110 percent humidity--it actually feels like there's more humidity in the air than there is air. It's terrible. What makes it worse is that I'm from Arizona where--and this is completely true--it's a dry heat. I can deal with temperatures over 100 degrees, but I cannot deal with lots of humidity. It makes me want to die.

In any event, today and yesterday were beautiful days. I walked out of my apartment yesterday and--rather than being confronted with stale, still, muggy air, was greeted with a cool and refreshing breeze. That happened again this morning. And the afternoon was beautiful, too. So we barbecued, which is something we haven't been doing nearly enough of this summer. It was awesome.

Tomorrow is Rhythm and Booms, one of Madison's most popular events. I've never been, but I've heard it's awesome, so I'm really excited. I might also be getting really drunk. We'll see.

On a different note, have you seen that new iPod commercial with Paul McCartney? If you haven't, here it is:

I don't know why Paul McCartney's selling iPods now. And I also wasn't aware that he was still making music. But, in any event, that song (it's called "Dance Tonight") got stuck in my head, so I downloaded it--from iTunes, no less. It's ok. Lyrically, it's about the laziest piece of music ever. But the music's ok, and it's relatively cheerful. And extremely catchy.

I wonder what my leftover Chinese food's going to taste like after spending the night in the refrigerator in a plastic bag with my socks . . . .

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:52 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Funny Shit , Hanging Out With My Friends , Music Reviews

Now, before anyone starts talking about how I'm crazy or I have delusions of grandeur, let me explain that I don't actually think I can see the future.

I guess after a first sentence like that, I should probably explain why I think that sort of disclaimer is necessary. See, I want to write about how I can sort of see the future. But it's not really that I can see the future, it's that I can predict the future. And it's not really that I can predict the future, it's that I can weigh probabilities pretty well. And, most likely, in a lot of instances, I'm influencing everything, so I don't know if "clairvoyance" is the right word for what I'm talking about here. Let me explain a little more, which will hopefully have the effect of confusing you.

I generally operate under two assumptions. First, nothing catastrophic is going to happen to me. A consequence of that assumption is that I will generally get the things I need. I feel pretty comfortable making this assumption because it's never proven false. About the worst thing I can think of happening to me is having someone I love die but, fortunately, no one I love has ever died. Sure, some day someone will, and it will suck. But I know I'll be able to deal with it somehow, even though I dread it. So it's hard to fear horrible things when I know that I will, after a while, be ok after having the worst thing I can imagine happen to me. Sure, maybe it's just ignorant bravado, but I think I'll be ok. I hope I will be, anyway. I have faith that I will be.

Another reason that I have faith in this assumption is that, largely by luck, I've got myself a pretty solid support system. Let's say that my apartment building burned down. I have any number of beds and couches and floors I can sleep on. Let's say I ran into ridiculous financial difficulties. I've got two degrees--I could easily get a slightly above average paying job. I might not be happy with it, but I wouldn't starve. Let's say that someone I care about gets sick of dies. I know that I have a huge number of people that I could turn to for advice and support. I have lots of shoulders I could cry on.

The first assumption, then, is positive: it's an affirmation that I will be ok.

The second affirmation, by contrast, is negative. It's the assumption that, while all the things I need will somehow work themselves out, I will almost never get the things I want most. I've written before about that Lego pirate ship I saved up for when I was a kid. The gyst is that I saved up for a long time to buy this huge pirate ship, but, when I went to the store with all my saved-up money, the thing wasn't there. So I ended up settling for an RC car, even though that's not what I really wanted. Well, that same thing has happened to me over and over again in my life. I'm not someone who gets the brass ring, and, while I'm generally very satisfied with the state of affairs in my life, I'm not someone that gets up in the morning and has magical awesome things happen to them.

Things just click for some people. Maybe they win the lottery, or they're lucky enough to be in a rock band that makes it big, or they write some small-time play that gets turned into a huge Hollywood film. Some people are just at the right place at the right time. Everyone has giant, unattainable, ridiculously ambitious dreams (at least I hope everyone does), but very few people have those dreams come true. When we were kids, we all wanted to be astronauts, or princesses, or secret agents. But how many of us became those things? How many of us had those dreams come true? Not very many. I know none of mine ever have.

So the second assumption--that my dearest, most sought-after dreams (being a superhero's an example of one of these, but it's not a very good one because it's clearly absurd. I have more realistic dreams than that one) will never come true--is nothing more than a statement about probabilities and reality.

These two rules have held pretty much throughout my life, and I'm confident that they'll hold for the foreseeable future. So what does all that mean? It means that maybe I should be smarter about what I get my hopes up about. But I can't help it. Sometimes I just want to believe that something amazing will happen to me. Maybe I'll find out tomorrow, for example, that my parents aren't actually my parents. Maybe I'll find out that they found me in the middle of a field, among the wreckage of what seemed to be an alien spacecraft, wrapped in blue and red blankets. Or maybe something much more commonplace will happen.

In any event, you can't help what you get excited about. You can't help what you hope for. At least I know that, when the universe inevitably disappoints me, I'm going to be ok.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Life Sucks Sometimes , Potentially Entirely Unhelpful Analogies

It used to be that, in order to have a mohawk, you had to be a badass punk motherfucker. Mohawks also used to be relatively rare, and with good reason: what self-respecting individual would shave their head like that and make their hair stand straight up? Alas, those were simpler times.

In the past few days, I've seen no fewer than five to ten mohawks. And, in case you're wondering, it's not like I've been frequenting the Club Inferno or anything like that. No, I've seen these mohawks on the sidewalk, at the Terrace, and even at the most god-awful place in the universe, the Nitty Gritty.

The most disturbing thing, though, is the kind of people who've been sporting the mohawks. I've seen everyone from hippy motherfuckers (god, I hate hippies) to preppy-looking frat boys sporting the mohawk. What the fuck is that? Listen, if you've got a mohawk and you're wearing a button-down shirt, the shirt had goddamned well better be made out of flannel and it had goddamned well better be 1992. Otherwise accept the fact that you're a tool, pop your pink collar, and move on.

Seriously. It's not that I care too much about punk culture, but I hate to see such a ridiculously "fuck you" hairstyle get co-opted by frat boys. God, I hate frat boys.

And this is all ignoring the fauxhawk. As bad as nonpunks who wear mohawks are, at least they have the balls to actually commit to the damned hairstyle. If all you're willing to do is a fauxhawk, then you should be shot. Seriously.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 12:03 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry

I think I'm a pretty decent writer. I mean, one of the things I spend a lot of time doing is editing other peoples' work, so I have to be decent at it, right? I think that, where prose is concerned, I can express my ideas in a coherent and compelling way. And I also think that I can write music pretty well, actually. The original songs I've put up here don't represent my best efforts, unfortunately, but I think that I can write pretty decent music.

What I can't write to save my life is lyrics. I think everyone, during their "difficult" teenage years, writes poetry or lyrics or something. I certainly did. And, like everyone else that did it, reading it now is extremely painful. And everytime I try to write lyrics, I look at them and I think "holy fuck, I can't sing these in front of people--everyone would laugh. And they should, I'd deserve it."

I've got a few problems, I think. First, I'm too direct. I generally don't like lyrics that say what they mean as much as I like lyrics that are vague or obscure. For example, what the fuck are "Monkey Gone to Heaven" or "Caribou" all about? I have no idea. But they're awesome songs.

Another problem is that I have a distinct inability to express meaningful or important concepts succintly. Look at Neil Young's lyrics from "Keep on Rockin' in the Free World": "That's one more kid that will never go to school, never get to fall in love, never get to be cool." Those are just awesome lyrics! Or how about Radiohead in "Fake Plastic Trees": "If I could be who you wanted, all the time." Again, simple but just touching and awesome. And then there's "The Boxer": "In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade . . . ." The whole song is an exercise in lyrical mastery.

I can't do that. I'm working on something right now that might not suck. But I still wish I could write better lyrics. Unfortunately, I don't think this is something where practice makes perfect.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 2:02 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Music Reviews

Ok, I know this is my third consecutive Smashing Pumpkins post. I'm sorry, but there's a lot of Pumpkins-related stuff going on right now.

Anyway, here's a video of the newly reformed band playing "Tonight, tonight" in Paris. I think it sounds pretty good, and I can't wait to see them when they come to the States. It's still really strange to see some other guy standing where James should be, and the new bassist is no D'arcy. I wonder if the original line up will ever get together again . . . . Anyway, enjoy:

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)| Filed under General Awesomeness , Music Reviews , The Smashing Pumpkins

In my last post, I called The Smashing Pumpkins' fourth album one of the best albums of all time. Several commentators then challenged that assertion. Which is fine. But you guys are wrong. Let me explain why.

Although I've previously explained why I love The Smashing Pumpkins generally and Mellon Collie specifically so much, I think that I can defend the album on its own objective merits. So now let's evaluate each song--all twenty-eight of them (in two parts). I'll give the title, my iTunes rating, and a brief opinion.

"Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness"--4/5
This serves an excellent introduction to the album. It's simple but moving, I think. I really like it.

"Tonight, tonight"--5/5
Far and away one of the best songs on the album. The dynamics in this one are amazing, the strings are beautiful, and the lyrics are really good. Definitely a great song.

"Jellybelly"--4/5
I think that the first three songs on Mellon Collie really summarize what the Pumpkins were capable of: from the soothing piano of the opening track, to the soaring strings on "Tonight, tonight," to rocking so hard it'll shatter your teeth on "Jellybelly." This song rocks. Hard.

Zero--4/5
I have to admit that I just downgraded this one from five stars. But it's still pretty good, even if it's a little repetative.

Here Is No Why--5/5
I obviously like this one a lot. I really like the way the song builds and evolves, a trademark of Billy Corgan's songwriting style.

Bullet with Butterfly Wings--5/5
This is just a classic. It rocks so fucking hard in parts, and is mellow and beautiful in others. It's perhaps the best example of the loud-louder-really quite-really loud dynamic the Pumpkins were really good at.

To Forgive--5/5
Another unbelievable song. It's so depressing, it's awesome. This is definitely one of the Pumpkins' best songs.

(Fuck You) An Ode to No One3/5
I didn't used to like this one very much, but it's grown on me in the decade since the album's release. I still don't think it's a standout track, but it's a pretty good example of Billy's sometimes ridiculous lyrics.

Love--4/5
This is a pretty decent song, I have to say. It's not one of my go-to tracks, but I always get into it when it comes on. It holds the unfortunate spot of being a slightly better than average song on a disc with a bunch of really good songs.

Cupid de Locke--2/5
Eh. This song is neither good nor terrible--it's pretty inert. If I'm in the mood to get to much better songs, I always skip this one. If I'm listening to the album all the way through, I listen to it. There's that recitation part, which I don't really like. This is definitely one of the weaker tracks on the album.

Galapogos--4/5
I really like this one--the lyrics are introspective and the music matches the mood perfectly.

Muzzle--5/5
Another one of my all-time favorite songs, and the song I've claimed as the theme song to my life--"Time heals, but I'm forever broken."

Porcelina of the Vast Oceans--4/5
Billy was always excellent at writing long songs. At over nine minutes long, this is one of the album's longest songs, and it's also an excellent example of the dynamic range the band used--it takes over two minutes to fade in and then, suddenly, it explodes. It's awesome.

Take Me Down--2/5
And then they let James Iha write a song. That's pretty much all you have to say. It's not really all that special. It might be my least favorite song on the album. Oh well.

Thus ends side one, Dawn to Dusk. I'll write about the second side, Twilight to Starlight, later.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 7:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Music Reviews , The Smashing Pumpkins

Some time ago, I posted about what I thought of The Smashing Pumpkins' new song, Tarantula. As it turns out, the song is mediocre and, although my hopes had not been high, it confirmed that the new album probably wouldn't be that great.

Well today, thanks to some anonymous poster, I know that the picture on the cover of the single for that song features Paris motherfucking Hilton. Why? How the fuck should I know?

Here's the fucking cover:

.

I swear to god, Billy Corgan--what the fuck?

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 6:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (7)| Filed under Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry , Reviews , The Smashing Pumpkins

One of my favorite movies when I was a kid was The Neverending Story. Anyway, remember at the end, when Atreyu meets with the Rock-Biter, who tells him that the Nothing has taken all his friends and that it will soon consume all of Fantasia? And the Rock-Biter sits there and he's looking at his hands, and he's saying that, even though he's big and strong, he couldn't stop the Nothing? That scene always resonated with me. And it did so especially today, which ended up being one of the worst days I've had in a long time.

For various reasons, I can't really go into why I was upset today. It will suffice to say that several things were involved. First, there was an e-mail that represented an extreme betrayal. Second, and related to the e-mail, was an overwhelming feeling of helplessness and futility; regardless of any strengths or abilities I might have, there are some things I can't prevent, no matter how wrong those things are. And I hate that.

Third, there was an issue related to my post of a few days ago. It's hard to explain, so I'm not going to try. The fact of the matter is that I'm too tired to come up with an oblique way of explaining all of these things. So--and I'm sure you're all crushed--no potentially entirely unhelpful analogies tonight.

In any event, there's not really any need to focus on the negative.

At some point, I was running on very little soul--I felt totally crushed. Even going to the terrace with Co-SME didn't help much. In fact, it kinda made things worse (no offense, man). So I left.

I ended up at RPM and Bluebunny's (and by the way--I forgot to thank RPM for lending me the guitar I used to record Tiny Dancer. So, thanks, man). We watched this movie called The Wrong Guy, which I had watched in college and remember thinking was pretty funny. And I still really liked it, and I think they did, too. Then we watched some TV and, eventually, I got up to leave.

Right around then, everything started getting better, and I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

Then we took this stray we found to the shelter or whatever.

Then I checked my blog and found that two people had left some nice comments on the tag board. I really appreciate them.

So I'm actually feeling way better than I was, say, ten hours ago.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Hanging Out With My Friends , Life Sucks Sometimes , Movie Reviews , Things I'm Irrationally Attached To

There was a lot of talk when I was in middle and high school about school uniforms. Personally, I hate the idea. There are a few basic arguments in support of school uniforms, none of which resonate to me to any degree.

First, there's the argument that, by making everyone dress the same, social stratification is reduced. Well, that's just stupid. Seeing as how I was an outcast for many reasons in addition to my cheap clothes, I can't really gauge how much of the high-school social-stratification problem (if it's a problem at all) is due to the brand of students' clothes. It seems to me that brand names might be a contibuting factor, but I'm also pretty certain that other things--like athletic ability, physical attractiveness, charisma, boobs--contribute to the whole thing. Removing just one of those elements seems unlikely to topple any sort of heirarchy that might exist.

Second, there's that whole thing about eliminating gang colors. This always seemed particularly laughable to me because, while Nogales, Arizona has its fair share of bullies and scoundrels, it did not, in the 1990s, have any significant gang presence. But, even assuming a population that is hell bent on killing each other based on whether someone's wearing red or blue or whatever, the dress code thing is unlikely to make much of a difference. Clothing is a symbol of group affiliation. If you outlaw one particular symbol, the group will persist and the symbol will change. It's not like gang members are going to think "Well, fuck. I can't wear my red bandana anymore. I guess I'd better give up my evil ways and turn to the Lord!"

So, I don't really like the idea of school uniforms. But my hatred of the policy isn't based simply in the refutation of some common arguments in support of it. Rather, I think it's important that middle- and high-school kids be able to express themselves. One of the most obvious ways to do that is to wear clothes that your parents, teachers, and maybe even classmates really, really don't like. That's just a fundamental part of childhood, as far as I'm concerned. If I hadn't been able to wear baggy jeans and paint my nails black, I would have been pissed. As it is, I spent months convincing my mom that I'm not gay (not that there's anything wrong with that).

The point is, I really hate stupid, lazy school policies. And I haven't recently heard of any policy that is stupider than Kilmer Middle School's rule against all touching. Apparently, all touching--"hugging, holding hands or even high-fiving"--is prohibited.

Now, certainly, preventing fights and unwanted sexual or physical attention is a good, decent goal. But protecting those interests by banning all touching is akin to banning all speech so that no one says anything mean. Touching is expressive, and very often in a wholesome, good-natured way. High-fiving a teammate after a victory, hugging a crying friend, holding a significant other's hand, and helping someone up after a fall are all examples of good, nonoffensive, expressive touching.

Of course there are, as Principal Deborah Hernandez notes, "shades of gray." But life is one big gray area. Yes, there are instances where it is inappropriate to hug or hold hands, and yes it's sometimes difficult to determine culpability. But the solution to that problem isn't to ban an entire activity simply because that activity is uncool some small percentage of the time. Rather, the solution is to teach children when certain kinds of touching are ok and when they're not. And, of course, to teach them that some kinds of touching--pushing, nonconsensual groping, punching--is never ok.

But, of course, that's a far-too nuanced approach to expect from our public officials. This kind of shit just makes me angry.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 4:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)| Filed under Philosophical Rants , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry , Rants on the News

So, here's my version of "Tiny Dancer" by Elton John. I had origially started doing a much more complicated version in which I planned to use the E-bow for the string sections and do a bunch of fancy overdubs. After listening to JLee's version of Eternal Flame, however, I decided to do a more stripped-down version.

Now, a problem I have (one that no doubt is a result of my obsessive love of The Smashing Pumpkins) is that I have a really hard time controlling how many overdubs I do. So, although I originally intended my "stripped-down" Tiny Dancer to be one guitar and some singing, I allowed myself to overdub one guitar and several backing vocal parts. Anyway, here it is. Hope you like it. Let me know.

The Lovers of Sight and Sound - Tiny Dancer (acoustic)

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:46 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , General Awesomeness

It's often said that the clinical definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. I'm actually fairly certain that that is not the clinical definition of anything, but I guess the point is still valid.

I'm pretty quick to point out the things other people are doing wrong--they're really obvious most of the time. Of course, they're not obvious to the person who's doing them. So I had an interesting thought the other day: what if I'm doing things wrong, but I don't know it because, like everyone else, I can't recognize my own flaws?

I initially dismissed this notion: I'm smarter and more perceptive than anyone in the universe, so of course I'd be able to see what's wrong with me. Clearly, the reason I'm not seeing any faults in my choices, decisions, and character is that there aren't any faults to be seen. Once I came down from my dellusion, however, I realized that it's almost certainly the case that I make the same kinds of mistakes everyone else makes.

Lately, I've been afraid that I'm making one of the all-time classic mistakes--failing to learn from the past. It's not exactly that I'm repeating some past mistake, though. It's more like I'm setting myself up to allow something bad to happen to me again. There are warning signs, of course, but maybe I'm ignoring too many of them. Or--perhaps worse--I'm overthinking and overreacting.

Ultimately, the question is whether the current state of affairs is acceptable to me. The answer, for better or worse, is that it is. I've made my bed. Now let's see what happens when I try to lay in it.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 4:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Life Sucks Sometimes

Good fancy crap, I've been busy. That, together with the laziness that's left over after I finish the stuff I have to do everyday, leaves me with very little time to write out a semi-intelligible thought on here. More importantly, however, absolutely nothing of great import has happened lately, leaving me without things to share. My lack of time has been so complete, in fact, that I haven't even really had time to keep up with any news, so I don't even have anything unrelated to me to rant about. I plan on fixing that right now.

First of all, I'm pissed that I've been failling, lately, to put the titles of various things in the proper typeface. This is annoying to me--but, I'm sure, no one else--because I'm a self-avowed Bluebook geek. So, I'm going to start doing all of these things in accordance with the Chicago Manual of Style from now on. Book, film, and album titles will be italicized. Individual songs will appear in quotation marks.

Second, Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer opened today. I have no doubt that it will be a hit, unfortunately. It's currently getting a 33 percent at Rotten Tomatoes, which is surprising--I expected it not to break 10 percent. This movie was just destined to suck: A super-powered family? Lame. An invisible woman? Lame. A bad guy named Dr. Doom? Lame. A morally ambiguous character that's a fucking Silver Surfer? Lame. As I've said before, Stan Lee and Jack Kirby really missed the mark with the Fantastic Four. More importantly, however, the filmmakers have strayed from the subject matter in the areas where it was important to stay faithful and stayed faithful in the areas where it was important to stray. And if you're going to make a movie about the Silver Surfer's arrival on Earth as the herald of Galactus, then don't make Galactus a fucking cloud! You'd better give me a giant in purple and pink armor or not even try.

Still, I kinda wanna watch this--who's down?

Third, I know this is old news, but the fact that Paris Hilton is in jail is one of the clearest signs that there is a God that I've seen in a while. I hate stupid, snotty, spoiled bitches more than almost anything, so seeing their queen thrown in the slammer is just about the funniest thing that's ever happened. On a more serious note, though, I really hope that this serves to destroy Ms. Hilton's tween fanbase. The thought that there are young women out there that actually look up to and respect Ms. Hilton literally makes me sad for our children and question our adults' fitness as parents. If even one little girl out there realizes that being a stupid whore isn't a good thing as a result of this, then some measure of justice has been served.

Fourth, Guitar Hero II on Hard is hard. I had pretty much mastered Medium, but Hard is just ridiculous. Although I mocked this game for a long time, it's really, really fun. And, as co-SME pointed out, Guitar Hero III looks like it's going to be even better, since it's going to include "Cherub Rock," "My Name Is Jonas," "Paint It Black," and "Even Flow." Oh, and just for you, Mr. Utah, it's also going to include Foghat's "Slow Ride."

So there.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 3:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Fun Shit I've Done , Law School , Movie Reviews , Rants , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry , Rants on the News , Reviews

When I woke up this morning, I was filled with this sense of complete and utter dread. And I know exactly why.

As I've mentioned before, I used to work at this TV station. I really liked the job, and I thought for a long time that i wanted to work in television production. It was interesting and fun, and I've always liked being behind the scenes in some capacity. I changed my major in school accordingly, and I started taking all the required classes. And I was really psyched for the whole thing. Then I got fired. Granted, getting fired was completely my fault, but it was still devastating. I remember feeling as if I lost all direction in my life--I felt like a ship without a course or heading. Or even a rudder. Even though the plans I made in my head were all vague and indefinite, they were still there. And the knowledge that I could never follow through on those plans freaked me out.

As far as major life decisions go, that was probably about as scared as I've ever been. But that feeling only lasted for a few hours. Within that time, I was able to gain enough perspective on the situation to realize that the plans I had made in my mind were, frankly, stupid. And, having made that realization, I knew that everything was going to be alright. And I knew exactly what I was going to do with myself.

I know exactly where I was when I decided to come to law school. I was in my car at the stop sign at the intersection of Dupont and Humphreys, facing west, just down the street from the House. In that second, everything was back in place, and my life had some vague direction again.

See, even though a reasonable observer might have justifiably doubted, at certain points in my life, whether I had any goals or ambition, I have always subjectively had some goal and a realistic way of getting there.

So what does that have to do with this morning? Since that moment at the corner of Dupont and Humphreys, I've had a goal: be a lawyer. And I've been so excited to reach that goal. And now I'm here (although I'm not admitted to practice in any jurisdiction yet). And this is the first time I've ever reached some goal and been freaked out.

At some point between when I went to bed last night and when I woke up this morning, my mind and body realized something: I'm this close to being an adult. When I woke up this morning, I was tired and grumpy and groggy. And I dreaded the fact that, for the next forty years, this is what Monday mornings are going to be. I realized this as I struggled to make myself get up, and the thought just sort of materialized full-formed in my head as part of my internal monologue. But then I couldn't make it go away.

Then at dinner, I realized that I'm pretty freaked out about a lot of things, not the least of which is my probable move to Chicago. I don't think I mind change, and I think I'm ready for it, but it freaks me the fuck out. I can't articulate exactly why. Part of it is that I don't want to move away from the friends I have here. Part of it is stress about the bar and my continued unemployment. But there's more. I'm hesitant to label it, or to talk about it, or to even acknowledge it.

Maybe it's regret. Or just plain fear. Or maybe it's the fact that, once again, I have this complete lack of direction. And what's worse is that, unlike before, I can't control my direction. Yeah, I can send out a rainforest's worth of resumes, but the ultimate decision is beyond my control.

Anyway. It just freaks me out.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 12:57 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Law School , Life Sucks Sometimes

I've had a standing policy since sometime in college: no getting drunk when I'm in a bad mood. Some people enjoy being drunk for its own sake. I don't. If I'm drunk but I'm not with my friends and I can't focus on just having a great time, it generally turns out pretty shitty. Not for anyone else, usually. But definitely for me. I hate being drunk and in a bad mood at the same time--those are almost invariably my worst times.

The past week has been awesome in some respects and shitty in others. Mostly, though, it's been awesome. Sure, I've been really busy--I feel like I've been going nonstop forever. The "free time" I thought would come with graduation was a complete lie, apparently. And Bar/Bri is, well, an unmitigated pain in the ass. But I'm used to being busy, having lots of shit to do, and not getting nearly enough sleep. I can deal with all of that--three years of law school have taught me how to survive under all of those conditions.

So all that's really left is the awesomeness. No, I haven't been going out every night. And, actually, I really miss some of my friends (Mr. Utah, Mr. Vice, Ms. PH, Ms. X-tina, Mr. L-Dawg, I'm looking at you. And, even though I see you guys every day, I don't really see you guys every day, RPM and Bluebunny). But my days have been short and self-contained, but I've gotten just about enough time to relax every day. So, basically, it's live I've had a real job. And this is my first weekend. So I was in a pretty good mood tonight.

Therefore, I was down for some drinking.

We started off, as planned, at the comedy club here in Madison. I don't know what it's actually called, but the guys were pretty funny. One of the comics apparently had a cameo role in Starship Troopers. He was really funny, I thought. The headlining guy was older, but he was hilarious. He had the audience laughing pretty much continually throughout his hour-long set. It was a really good time. There was a two-drink minimum; I had a Blue Moon and a dirty gin martini.

Afterwards, we all headed down for food and drinks at the Great Dane, which is one of my favorite establishments. They brew their own beer, and I particularly like one called the Crop Circle Wheat; it comes in a twenty-two ounce tall glass, and it's pretty delicious. Their soft pretzel appetizer and chicken salad croissant are both awesome. I had one of the aforementioned Crop Circle Wheats.

We then planned to head down to the Silver Dollar, our favorite dive bar. But--for the first time in recorded history--the Dollar was packed. That was fucking ridiculous! So we went across the street to this relatively new piano bar that I really like. The pianist was this younger guy I've never seen before, but he was pretty good. He played some songs I really like, including Brick by Ben Folds Five, Long December by the Counting Crows, and, of course, Piano Man. The whole bar was singing along with him and swaying back and forth. It was pretty cool.

Then we decided "fuck it" and went to the crowded Silver Dollar, where Mr. Utah pulled an L-Dawg and forced me to do a shot. When I say "shot," I should explain that Mr. Utah specifically requested the cheapest shot available. What he got was something that the bartender called "whiskey," but which I'm pretty sure was just fermented rat piss and terpentine. Anyway, I saw what Mr. Utah was planning and immediately told him that, under no circumstances, was I going to take a shot of whiskey; I hate even good whiskey, so bottom-shelf whiskey did not appeal to me at all.

No sooner had I refused the shot than Ms. PH came up and started implying that I possessed female reproductive organs. The gauntlet thrown down, I had no choice. But, goddammit, I was taking Ms. PH with me. So I told Mr. Utah to get a third shot and, after ordering a proper chaser, we were set. We all took the shot (toasting John Roderick Stocco) and then all nearly threw up. God, that shit was terrible.

The evening ended soon afterwards, but I think everyone had a good time. I know I did. And now, after a cab ride home (which I had to share with a stupid drunk douchebag who warned me not to drive drunk on the Beltline for the next two weeks because they're doing random stops and didn't seem to understand that his warning was slightly misplaced given that I don't drive drunk on the Beltline or otherwise (hence my cab ride)), I'm home safe and sound.

And I can look back on the evening without guilt or regret. God, what a wonderful feeling--I love my friends, I love my city, and I love my life. I also love Neko Case. If you're not listening to her, you're an idiot.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 3:05 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Fun Shit I've Done , General Awesomeness , Hanging Out With My Friends , Restaurant and Bar Reviews

If you go to CNN.com right now, one of their top stories is a video about how Bono, who's at the G8 summit, got so angry that he took his glasses off. The man takes off his fucking sunglasses, and it's fucking headline news. Am I in some bizzaro universe right now? If I push something off of my desk, will it fall ip to the ceiling? If I throw a ceramic plate against the wall, will it bounce like a rubber ball? Seriously, what kind of a universe am I living in?

First of all, what the fuck is Bono doing at the G8 summit to begin with? His wikipedia page does not mention any sort of advanced degree in government or economics, so I assume that he doesn't have one. Hell, it doesn't even specify that he graduated from high school. As far as I'm aware, no country has elected him to any position of authority or power. So why, exactly, is the lead singer for a band that reached its creative zenith over two decades ago at anything with the leaders of the free world? What the fuck is he doing there? Is he going up to German Chancellor Angela Merkel and asking her what she thought of How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb?

But let's not lose sight of what's really at issue here: the man took off his fucking sunglasses. What's CNN going to report next? "Matt Damon walks dog," "Jessica Alba loses contact," "Vin Diesel walks around, looks confused"? Seriously, this is bullshit. Everyone at CNN that was even remotely involved in making the decision to post video of Bono taking off his fucking sun-fucking-glasses should be shot.

The man's already a raging egomaniac. Are we trying to convinve him he's a fucking living god or something? Fuck.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 12:43 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)| Filed under Music Reviews , Rants , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry , Rants on the News

As you may or may not be aware, a Transformers movie is coming out this summer. Like most boys of my generation, I loved the Transformers--they were cars and robots! That's just awesome. So, when I first heard about this movie, I was really excited. But now that I've seen some previews, I'm not excited. In fact, I'm actively unexcited. Here's one of the trailers:

Here's a still of what Optimus Prime will look like in the movie:

First of all, Optimus Prime really looks like this:

Note the complete lack of hotrod flames. Why doesn't Optimus Prime have flames? Because he's a fucking dignified leader, not some two-bit pimped out ride. But that's only the beginning. Notice how the real Optimus Prime's robot form looks, well, like a semi truck that transformed into a vaguely humanoid form. Now look at Michael Bay's Optimus Prime's robot form:

Seriously, what the fuck? Since when do the Transformers look like some ridiculous anime mecha?

Also, and I realize that this bothers me more than it probably should, in that trailer, how is the Camaro Transformer's robot form thirty feet tall when the car is only ten feet long? What does all that robot come from? it's fucking ridiculous!

This is all aside from the point that the tone of the trailer--and, I presume, the movie--is all wrong. Why is Michael Bay trying to set some serious, dark mood? That's just stupid.

This movie is going to suck balls.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:38 AM | Permalink | Comments (6)| Filed under Movie Reviews , Rants

Some time ago (was that first year? No, it must have been second year, right?), I went to this show here in Madison with Wade Garrett and afs. We saw this band called Stars. They were really pretty good--even though I had never heard of them before and was not familiar with their music, I really enjoyed the show and the songs. Mr. Garrett got their CD, Heart, and was kind enough to share it with me. I put it on my computer and listened to it a few times, picked out my favorite songs, gave them four-star ratings in iTunes, and never specifically sought the album out again.

Until the other day. I was bored with the music on my normal playlists, so I started looking around for stuff I hadn't listened to in a while (in my "Haven't Listened to in a While" playlist--iTunes smart playlists kick ass). I found Elevator Love Letter in their, listened to it, remembered how much I liked it, and put on the album. And it's become my new musical obsession.

I really like the simple yet lush-sounding arrangements on the songs. The lyrics are pretty decent, too. But what I really like is the singing, particularly Amy Millan's vocals. And the interplay between the two singers, one male and one female, is really pretty interesting.

More importantly, the music is soothing without being boring and upbeat without being jarring. It's really perfect rainy day music, I think. And, since it's been raining for about a week, that seems just about right.

Anyway, you should check them out. You can see a video of them playing Elevator Love Letter live here. I really like that performance.

Does anyone have any music I should be listening to?

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 1:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (6)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Fun Shit I've Done , Music Reviews

When I first saw that Apple was releasing a phone, I was underwhelmed. Then I saw the TV ads. And, although the last thing I wanted to do was join the legions of mindless iPodophiles out there, I don't see how I can continue living without one. I mean, seriously--it's a fucking touchscreen phone that does pretty much every cool technological thing you could ask a small, portable device to do. I don't care what anyone says--touchscreens are awesome. Sure, they've generally sucked on phones, but that's mostly because they were designed to be used with those lame stylus things that used to come with touchscreen devices. The real problem with touchscreens hasn't been the technology, it's been the interface. Although I'll never own an Apple computer, I have to admit that their interfaces kick ass. So, I think that the iPhone will probably be the best touchscreen interface phone ever. Whether that means it's worth the completely ridiculous price tag remains to be seen (personally, I bet it underperforms).

And speaking of touchscreens, how have I gotten to this point in my life without the Microsoft Surface? Take a look at these videos and tell me you don't want one:

I mean, seriously! That kicks ass. If that's not one step closer to being on the bridge of the starship Enterprise, then I don't know what is. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I love the future. The only thing they need to do now is either build in the capability for these devices to deliver tactile feedback or train humans not to expect tactile feedback while typing and the whole way we interact with computers will be completely different forever. And that's going to kick ass.

Now, let's get to the part where the British are stupid. The 2012 Olympics are going to take place in London. That's cool with me. What is not cool with me is the fucking logo the people in charge of the London Olympics recently unveiled:

Seriously, what the fuck is that shit? The Olympics are one of the most awesome things we've got in the modern world. I've heard a lot of talk lately about how college sports are much more fun to watch than pro sports. College sports, the argument goes, are just more "pure," the kids are playing--for the most part--because they love the game. Sure, some of them will go into the pro leagues, bu the vast majority will not. There aren't contract disputes and season-eliminating strikes. There's just the sport. I can say that I certainly enjoy college football infinitely more than pro football.

The Olympics are like college football times a billion. These people are the top athletes in their respective sports, and the vast majority of them hold down full-time jobs. These guys get up at 4am, train until 8, put in a full day at the office or Home Depot or whatever, train some more, and then catch a few hours of sleep before doing it all again. In other words, for the most part,* olympians--and the Olympics generally--are an awesome thing. The people in charge of this shit should know that, and the logo that will represent the Olympics to the whole world should respect that. It should be dignified and simple. It should not look like Fred Flintstone's acid-inspired art homework. Seriously, what the fuck?

Tessa Jowell, an olympic minister, said this about the logo:

This is an iconic brand that sums up what London 2012 is all about -- an inclusive, welcoming and diverse Games that involves the whole country.

So take your stupid logo and shove its jagged shards up your ass.

*I say "for the most part" because Bode Miller is a douchebag. I also wasn't too fond of that olympian that was in school with us for a while. A speedwalker? Seriously, what the fuck?

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 12:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , General Awesomeness , Rants About Things That Make Me Irrationally Angry , Rants on the News , Reviews

A bunch of us went and watched Knocked Up today. I liked it, probably more than anyone else in the group, although I think the reactions were mostly positive, with the possible exception of RPM and Bluebunny. In any event, I would recommend it, but with the caveat that you should not expect to laugh as hard as at 40-Year-Old Virgin.

Before the movie, Bluebunny, RPM, and I went to the Henry Vilas Zoo, which is the free zoo here in Madison. I thought it was pretty cool, especially considering that it's free. Of course, it's no where near as good as world-class zoos like the San Diego Zoo, but it was decent--and free. It's interesting because you can tell that it's straddling the line between the old animals-in-cages zoo mentality and the newer natural-habitat-looking-enclosure mentality. And, because admission is free, you could tell that the transition is going pretty slowly. Still, some of the exhibits were pretty cool. I really liked the otters, obviously, and the prairie dogs. And I got to see a real badger for the first time. I also really liked the tamarins. My least favorite things included the polar bear, who looked like he was dying in the balmy Madison summer, and the obligatory huge cockroaches. God, those things are disgusting.

After the movie, we went out to the Outback. This was the first time I've been to the Outback since that time I almost died. I'm happy to report that I ordered a gigantic prime rib and ate the whole fucking thing without incident. God, it was awesome.

After dinner, Mr. Vice, Ms. Purple Hays, and I went over to Mr. Utah's and played Guitar Hero II while drinking Ronald F. Mexicos. It was pretty awesome, and I learned that I am not yet ready for the "Hard" level. The orange button is a fucking bitch.

So, that was my day. Tomorrow looks to be just as awesome.

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 3:02 AM | Permalink | Comments (4)| Filed under 150 Things to Love About Madison , Existential Nonsense , Fun Shit I've Done , General Awesomeness , Hanging Out With My Friends , Movie Reviews

Although my tasks seemed completely ri-goddamned-diculous yesterday, I was able to vanquish them today. And it was awesome--today was one of the most productive days I've had in a really, really long time. And, though I'm exhausted and I'm not going to get enough sleep for tomorrow, I think I deserved a few hours to decompress.

See, it all started this morning when I woke up and immediately started making an absurd number of phone calls to police departments, court clerks, and random people all over the country. And--surprisingly enough--I was not confronted with the stunning wall of incompetence and rudeness that I was expecting. Rather, everyone I spoke to today was both nice and incredibly helpful. Everyone except for the people in California, who refused to answer their phone. In a state with that many people, you'd think someone would be available to take my call. But no. So, fuck you California.

Anyway, all my stuff was done by about 3:30, with an hour and a half to spare. So Emily-in-Chief and I went to lunch at Doty's. And not a moment too soon, either. I hadn't eaten all day, and I was literally having a lot of trouble walking straight and I had developed a ridiculous headache. So I had a drink with lunch, and it was awesome.

Doing the actual character and fitness thing was sort of depressing, though. I mean, I don't think I'm that bad of a person, and I've never committed a felony or anything. But I'm afraid that I'll come across as the most irresponsible person in the universe on my application. I guess we'll see.

Anyway, it's over, and I might actually have a small amount of free time this weekend. What the hell am I going to do with that?

Posted by Ismael Tapia II at 12:38 AM | Permalink | Comments (5)| Filed under Existential Nonsense , Law School , Restaurant and Bar Reviews