Hey everybody. Sorry for the lapse in posting. I've been pouring most of my creativity into this big speech I had to give on Saturday. It's the time of year when we invite a ton of smart kids on campus and have them compete for big scholarships. I say we make them fight to the death, but they just do essays and interviews and crap. BO-RING!!
Anyway, after all that rigmarole, they go to a nice luncheon, listen to some speeches from the president and a current scholar, and get a medal. Yippee. Well, this luncheon would be different, because I was asked to speak. It was my goal to, as they say, drop a train on 'em. And, I may announce modestly, a train was indeed dropped. It was very well-received, so I thought I'd post the text of the speech, in case there are some of you that just can't get enough of my writing. Some of it is blatantly promotional, but there's some good jokes intermingled throughout. The text is posted in the replies, because it would take up way too much space on the main page.
Hope you like it blah blah blah.
2.28.2005
2.22.2005
I'm prolific at writing short things
Here's another blackout for you. Again, a little Drake-centric, but since the last one was so universal, I thought maybe the collegiate lust for diversity would be as well. This one might ruffle a few liberal feathers, which I'm totally okay with. I'm an equal opportunity offender. This one employs the tried-and-true comedy tool of "bait-and-switch." Ah, the old bait 'n' switch...
“Freak Show”
Setting: On campus
Characters: Two Drake students: Becca and Steve
Becca: Ohmigosh Steve, hurry up! Can you believe this?
Steve: Wow, is that a sword swallower? I didn’t even think people did that anymore!
Becca: Yeah, and look at that! A real-live flame-eater!
Steve: A snake charmer…
Becca: A Bat-Boy…
Both: AND A BEARDED LADY!! *laughter*
2.21.2005
First sketch, best sketch
Well, I finally made myself sit down and commit some of the thoughts in my head for my sketch comedy show to paper. I thought I'd let you in on the process and see what you think. This first sketch is just a blackout, which means it's a short, one-joke scene used to break up the action between longer sketches or for pacing purposes. Again, I don't know if this will be funny to non-Drake people (or even to Drake people, for that matter), but I'll just say it deals with our Health Center's tendency to come to the same diagnosis for every presented symptom. Enjoy, and let me know what you think. And remember, this is meant to be performed, not read, so try to visualize it onstage.
“Health Center”
Setting: American Republic Health Center
Characters: Receptionist/Registered Nurse Practitioner/Not-a-doctor, Female Student
2.19.2005
This is huge.
Possibly the proudest moment of my entire life happened last night. First, let's rewind to last semester. As the MDCRSTNOLT, I get a lot of cool indie music sent to me in hopes that I'll play it on the station. One such CD was by a band called Sunday Runners. I gave it a listen and really dug the CD, but one track in particular entitled "Memories Left at Sea" stuck out. It was a groovy, quirky track with a great upbeat organ part. I pushed for KDCS to add it, and it spent a couple months on our playlist last semester. I think we just dumped it last week to make room for some new stuff. I kept the CD and still listen to it.
Fast forward to last night. I'm in my room, watching my tape of Thursday's "O.C." A scene comes up with Marissa and Summer talking in their room. Then the opening strains of a very familiar organ part begin to waft through the background. The moment I heard the vocals come in, I paused the tape, leapt up out of my seat, raised my hands over my head, and took a celebratory lap around my single. "The O.C." used Sunday Runners' "Memories Left at Sea." Do you have any idea what that means?
I scooped "The O.C."
The TV show with THE hippest, most indie soundtrack today, the show that has raised the bar in terms of cool TV soundtracks, the show that has received as much press for introducing kids to Death Cab and The Thrills as any storyline...and I scooped them. By a good three months.
I have achieved Music Director nirvana.
I may not have changed the radio station all the much in my time there, but I can say that I scooped "The O.C." (Last semester, I scooped "One Tree Hill," but who really cares about them?) And that is all I need. I may retire satisfied.
Thank you very much. Good night.
Fast forward to last night. I'm in my room, watching my tape of Thursday's "O.C." A scene comes up with Marissa and Summer talking in their room. Then the opening strains of a very familiar organ part begin to waft through the background. The moment I heard the vocals come in, I paused the tape, leapt up out of my seat, raised my hands over my head, and took a celebratory lap around my single. "The O.C." used Sunday Runners' "Memories Left at Sea." Do you have any idea what that means?
I scooped "The O.C."
The TV show with THE hippest, most indie soundtrack today, the show that has raised the bar in terms of cool TV soundtracks, the show that has received as much press for introducing kids to Death Cab and The Thrills as any storyline...and I scooped them. By a good three months.
I have achieved Music Director nirvana.
I may not have changed the radio station all the much in my time there, but I can say that I scooped "The O.C." (Last semester, I scooped "One Tree Hill," but who really cares about them?) And that is all I need. I may retire satisfied.
Thank you very much. Good night.
2.18.2005
The chick and rhino must die
Hey, anyone see Bright Eyes play on The Late Late Show the other week? He smashed a really expensive guitar and the trumpet player smashed his instrument too. Way to represent, band geek. After the break, Craig Ferguson surprisingly sat Conor Oberst down at the desk for a brief interview. Not surprisingly, Conor gave the WORST INTERVIEW EVER. It was funny though. Check out the link to it here.
As someone who watches cable when most of the world is sleeping, I feel an obligation to report on certain things that go on, just so you (the world) can be aware. And I've noticed a disturbing trend. But not just in the amount of spoiled rich kids having riDONKulous parties and having MTV tape them for posterity. That's just "Super Sweet 16," a show I hate in ways I can't even begin to express in The King's English.
No, the trend I am speaking of is the recent increase in the amount of commercials for stupid ringtones and other cell phone add-ons. We're talking a SHARP increase here, people. Two months ago, there were none. Now I swear there's at least one every break. Are people that attached to their cell phones? Do they really watch these commercials and think, "You know, I just haven't been happy with my cell phone, or really my life for that matter, but I think having a shadowy animation of some dude playing basketball in the background of my cell will help. Yes, I will pay five dollars for it."
But the worst are these freaking commercials with singing creatures. Spike the Rhino or Squeaky the Chick or Sparky the Anemic Elephant pops onscreen and starts to sing the most annoying song you can imagine. It's as if some skeezy ad exec was trying to imitate a Top 40 song but inexplicably made it worse, wrote terribly cheesy lyrics about how you REALLY SHOULD ANSWER THIS CALL SERIOUSLY, I'M NOT JOKING YOU SHOULD ANSWER IT, and then had it recorded by Theodore from Alvin and the Chipmunks. Just Theodore, mind you, because he's the least talented and therefore the cheapest.
So we have the most annoying song in the world, sung by the most annoying animated character ever created. You would think this is just some clever ploy by a rival network to get you to change the channel to their station, but no. THEY ACTUALLY WANT YOU TO PAY MONEY TO HEAR THE SONG AGAIN. AND AGAIN AND AGAIN. In fact, they would love it if you had this song play every freaking time your cell phone rings. Unfortunately, not all of us can actually have the character sing to us when it rings. For those of you with less advanced cell phones, you can get the same basic song in mono or poly tones, so the most annoying song ever is played in tones reminiscent of early Nintendo. Think "Bad Dudes" era and you're close. The sad thing is that reducing the song to boops and beeps actually improves it.
But the saddest thing of all is that people actually buy them. People have to buy them, right? Otherwise they wouldn't be on the air anymore. Although the makers have shown so little sense up to the airing of the ad, the results of the campaign are probably far from their concern. I get the sense that these are people who are disappointed that they missed the Hale-Bopp Comet the first time around.
Wait, I think one of the spoiled rich kids on MTV just had their cell phone ring and it was the "Spotty the Leprous Zebra" ringtone. I really despise my generation sometimes. By the way, boys of America, please stop popping the collars of your Izod polo shirts. You look stupid. You really do.
As someone who watches cable when most of the world is sleeping, I feel an obligation to report on certain things that go on, just so you (the world) can be aware. And I've noticed a disturbing trend. But not just in the amount of spoiled rich kids having riDONKulous parties and having MTV tape them for posterity. That's just "Super Sweet 16," a show I hate in ways I can't even begin to express in The King's English.
No, the trend I am speaking of is the recent increase in the amount of commercials for stupid ringtones and other cell phone add-ons. We're talking a SHARP increase here, people. Two months ago, there were none. Now I swear there's at least one every break. Are people that attached to their cell phones? Do they really watch these commercials and think, "You know, I just haven't been happy with my cell phone, or really my life for that matter, but I think having a shadowy animation of some dude playing basketball in the background of my cell will help. Yes, I will pay five dollars for it."
But the worst are these freaking commercials with singing creatures. Spike the Rhino or Squeaky the Chick or Sparky the Anemic Elephant pops onscreen and starts to sing the most annoying song you can imagine. It's as if some skeezy ad exec was trying to imitate a Top 40 song but inexplicably made it worse, wrote terribly cheesy lyrics about how you REALLY SHOULD ANSWER THIS CALL SERIOUSLY, I'M NOT JOKING YOU SHOULD ANSWER IT, and then had it recorded by Theodore from Alvin and the Chipmunks. Just Theodore, mind you, because he's the least talented and therefore the cheapest.
So we have the most annoying song in the world, sung by the most annoying animated character ever created. You would think this is just some clever ploy by a rival network to get you to change the channel to their station, but no. THEY ACTUALLY WANT YOU TO PAY MONEY TO HEAR THE SONG AGAIN. AND AGAIN AND AGAIN. In fact, they would love it if you had this song play every freaking time your cell phone rings. Unfortunately, not all of us can actually have the character sing to us when it rings. For those of you with less advanced cell phones, you can get the same basic song in mono or poly tones, so the most annoying song ever is played in tones reminiscent of early Nintendo. Think "Bad Dudes" era and you're close. The sad thing is that reducing the song to boops and beeps actually improves it.
But the saddest thing of all is that people actually buy them. People have to buy them, right? Otherwise they wouldn't be on the air anymore. Although the makers have shown so little sense up to the airing of the ad, the results of the campaign are probably far from their concern. I get the sense that these are people who are disappointed that they missed the Hale-Bopp Comet the first time around.
Wait, I think one of the spoiled rich kids on MTV just had their cell phone ring and it was the "Spotty the Leprous Zebra" ringtone. I really despise my generation sometimes. By the way, boys of America, please stop popping the collars of your Izod polo shirts. You look stupid. You really do.
2.16.2005
Hello Facebook, goodbye productivity
My life as I know it is over. My free time has all been filled. Any thoughts I might have had about being productive or making something of myself this semester have long been banished.
I've joined Facebook.
For those of you who might not know what Facebook is, you're probably not in college. Or at least not at my school. Because here...good Lord. You can't get away from it. The day Drake was added to the offical Facebook server was as if God Himself came down and said, "Behold, I have given you the ultimate procrastination tool!" Everybody started talking about it and they haven't stopped since. Some of you might be looking at this thing for the first time because you followed a link from my profile. If so, um...hi. Take your shoes off at the door and don't feed the robots, okay?
Oh right. Some of you still might not know what the crap I'm talking about. For you blessedly ignorant souls, you can check out the site here and read a very helpful article about the phenomenon here. That should get you up to speed on the most addictive college fad since Snood.
I actually held out for almost two weeks after Drake was added to join the F-Book. (Sometimes I call it the F-Book because we're cool like that now. Sometimes I call it the devil incarnate. But that's only when I want to use its true name.) Sadly, one of the main reasons was because I didn't have a good picture to use. And your face is, coincidentally, a fairly integral part of the Facebook. Finally, I had my friend scan in a picture and I cropped it so it was just me. I even used my new free photo editor to edit out my redeye because, as is the case in most pictures and in most of my waking life, I looked freaking high. (The editor is made by Google, by the way. They're taking over the world. And I love it...)
Hence, the new picture to the right of these words. Probably up a little too, by this point. If you could see the rest of the picture, you would see the amazingly talented and strikingly handsome boys of Copeland from when I saw them open for Switchfoot last year in Ames. Switchfoot probably doesn't need their own link at this point. You should know who they are. Those sell-outs.
So anyway, I have a new great way to waste time. Because...that's just what I needed. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to confirm 428 people as my new friends and also ask to be in the "Drake Students Advocating the Construction of Underground Heated Passages Between Campus Buildings" group. Because they wouldn't let me into the Drake Chapter of "I Just Tried To Ford a River and My F#@%ng Oxen Died."
And yes, that is a reference to Oregon Trail. 'Tis the glory that is Facebook.
I've joined Facebook.
For those of you who might not know what Facebook is, you're probably not in college. Or at least not at my school. Because here...good Lord. You can't get away from it. The day Drake was added to the offical Facebook server was as if God Himself came down and said, "Behold, I have given you the ultimate procrastination tool!" Everybody started talking about it and they haven't stopped since. Some of you might be looking at this thing for the first time because you followed a link from my profile. If so, um...hi. Take your shoes off at the door and don't feed the robots, okay?
Oh right. Some of you still might not know what the crap I'm talking about. For you blessedly ignorant souls, you can check out the site here and read a very helpful article about the phenomenon here. That should get you up to speed on the most addictive college fad since Snood.
I actually held out for almost two weeks after Drake was added to join the F-Book. (Sometimes I call it the F-Book because we're cool like that now. Sometimes I call it the devil incarnate. But that's only when I want to use its true name.) Sadly, one of the main reasons was because I didn't have a good picture to use. And your face is, coincidentally, a fairly integral part of the Facebook. Finally, I had my friend scan in a picture and I cropped it so it was just me. I even used my new free photo editor to edit out my redeye because, as is the case in most pictures and in most of my waking life, I looked freaking high. (The editor is made by Google, by the way. They're taking over the world. And I love it...)
Hence, the new picture to the right of these words. Probably up a little too, by this point. If you could see the rest of the picture, you would see the amazingly talented and strikingly handsome boys of Copeland from when I saw them open for Switchfoot last year in Ames. Switchfoot probably doesn't need their own link at this point. You should know who they are. Those sell-outs.
So anyway, I have a new great way to waste time. Because...that's just what I needed. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to confirm 428 people as my new friends and also ask to be in the "Drake Students Advocating the Construction of Underground Heated Passages Between Campus Buildings" group. Because they wouldn't let me into the Drake Chapter of "I Just Tried To Ford a River and My F#@%ng Oxen Died."
And yes, that is a reference to Oregon Trail. 'Tis the glory that is Facebook.
2.12.2005
Rock 'n' poker
Upon This Rock
Check out this article from GQ, of all places. Probably the most honest appraisal of Christian rock and Christian music festivals I've read for a long time. It's somewhat long and the font is small, but it's worth the read.
So I won at poker at last night. For those of you keeping track, that brings my poker record for the year to 2-0. Four of us at the table to start, playing mostly draw and Hold 'Em, but straight Hold 'Em at the end. Raph got screwed on two good calls when Jim made a flush, then a straight. I think Emeric just got bored because you can't conquer countries in poker, so went all-in and got knocked out. Then it was down to me and Jim, who had a substantial chip lead. I won a few good pots, as did he. Then we both went all in with four diamonds on the table. He had a King-high flush. I had an Ace-high. It. was. freaking. sweet.
Telling that story made me feel like a pale imitation of Wil Wheaton. I also fear I am developing a mild gambling addiction. I've only played poker twice this year, so it's still obviously mild. But I fear one more victory will send me over the brink.
So...wanna play? We can throw out terms like "gut-shot straight draw" and "sailboats." And also, I'll win your money.
Check out this article from GQ, of all places. Probably the most honest appraisal of Christian rock and Christian music festivals I've read for a long time. It's somewhat long and the font is small, but it's worth the read.
So I won at poker at last night. For those of you keeping track, that brings my poker record for the year to 2-0. Four of us at the table to start, playing mostly draw and Hold 'Em, but straight Hold 'Em at the end. Raph got screwed on two good calls when Jim made a flush, then a straight. I think Emeric just got bored because you can't conquer countries in poker, so went all-in and got knocked out. Then it was down to me and Jim, who had a substantial chip lead. I won a few good pots, as did he. Then we both went all in with four diamonds on the table. He had a King-high flush. I had an Ace-high. It. was. freaking. sweet.
Telling that story made me feel like a pale imitation of Wil Wheaton. I also fear I am developing a mild gambling addiction. I've only played poker twice this year, so it's still obviously mild. But I fear one more victory will send me over the brink.
So...wanna play? We can throw out terms like "gut-shot straight draw" and "sailboats." And also, I'll win your money.
2.11.2005
Master Ninja Theme Song!
Hey kids. Sorry I haven't talked at you in a few days. Been busy and all that. Let's see if we can catch up with a series of well-organized, bulleted talking points:
- The Powers That Be have approved my thesis proposal. I am officially writing a comedy show for my senior Honors thesis. My dad has already dubbed the project "the greatest scam I've ever pulled." I couldn't be more proud. I'm going to try to work on a couple sketches over the weekend. If I come up with anything worthwhile, I'll post them for you guys to check out. I still can't believe how awesome this is.
- Speaking of awesome, I saw Bill Cosby live in concert last Saturday night. Man, that guy is amazing. Just stood on stage and told stories for two hours - had the audience in the palm of his hand the entire time. And without swearing or resorting to toilet humor, the guy just killed. That's why he's one of my comedic heroes. I think we could all take a lesson from him. *looks in Scott's direction*
- Being the music director of a college radio station that no one listens to does have occasional perks, like meeting HUGE celebrities. Yes, I have met Mo Rocca, who is hilarious and quite possibly the smartest guy I've ever met. Or at least has the biggest vocabulary. The guy was throwing out words like "endomorph" like it was nothing. I also did a telephone interview with Joan Jett during the Iowa primaries when she was stumping for Howard Dean...and we all know how that turned out. You can check out my brushes with fame here.
- Speaking of the radio station, I'm doing a radio show again this semester. Our refurbished studio is simply too sweet to not get my hands on, so I'm going on Sunday afternoons from 3-5. I'm calling it "The X Factor - the best of what you're not hearing and the good stuff you don't hear enough." Basically two hours of what I think the station should sound like all the time, had I my druthers. You can listen (and watch me, thanks to our new in-studio camera) online, but the Drake network has been sucky lately and the stream has been choppy. So don't complain if it's bad, but do try to check it out here.
- I am vehomently opposed to the production of The Mighty Ducks 4. The Mighty Ducks is the greatest sports trilogy ever made - why mess with a good thing? Come on, Disney. I mean, if you want to make another Witch Mountain to finish up that trilogy, fine. But leave the Ducks alone. This has nothing to do with any event in the last few days, but I just felt I needed to express that opinion.
2.04.2005
Like sand through an hourglass...so goes water through a dam
So...my brother's getting married....that's crazy.
Can't say as I didn't see it coming. He and his girlie have been hurl-inducingly cute for each other for a while now. But it's still kind of a crazy thing to think about. Don't get me wrong, I'm beyond happy for them, hella happy in fact. (My minute-long episode of fake vomiting was just my way of dealing with the news. Plus, I promised them I would.) It's just that big news like this makes you step back and take stock in your own life. And I hate doing that. So thanks a lot, kids. I mean, congratulations and all, but seriously, thanks a lot.
I thought I'd take a cue from my blog friend Rob (he's my real friend too) and wax poetic on the passage of time.
A few weeks ago, I made a fort.
No, not some sort of metaphorical fort to shield me from the rapid onset of adulthood. I'm not that deep. A real fort, made from couch cushions and sheets. I really don't know how it happened. I was hanging out with a few friends after an apartment party. The theme was a hipster dance party, so The Shins and John Vanderslice were on heavy rotation. There was fondue and fruitshi (fruit sushi) and people were having college drinks. It was a great time, and quite the adult-ish party.
After everyone cleared out, I was going to help the ladies move their furniture back to its original positions when it happened. I don't know who brought it up, but someone half-jokingly suggested that we make a fort. The four of us immediately latched onto the idea and spontaneously reverted back to little kids. We moved the couches, draped some sheets, and got a couple candles for light (our one adult exception. We weren't trusted with fire when we were 4. Probably a good idea.) We probably spent an hour in that fort, telling stories and being ridiculous. Eventually, we had to leave and return to our near-adult lives and do near-adult things, but for a brief time, we were kids again. It was one of the best times I've had in a while and it was a memory that I'll remember for a long time.
So I guess the moral is this...spend some time in a fort soon. This one can be metaphorical, I guess, but it's better if it's real. Life is too short to be adult all the time. Getting married is a very adult thing to do, but it's cool because then you always have someone to build a fort with.
Well, I should get started on writing my best man toast, because I'm already under a lot of pressure to deliver the most hilarious toast ever. I hope the happy couple is okay with Robert Goulet delivering their toast...
GOULET!
Can't say as I didn't see it coming. He and his girlie have been hurl-inducingly cute for each other for a while now. But it's still kind of a crazy thing to think about. Don't get me wrong, I'm beyond happy for them, hella happy in fact. (My minute-long episode of fake vomiting was just my way of dealing with the news. Plus, I promised them I would.) It's just that big news like this makes you step back and take stock in your own life. And I hate doing that. So thanks a lot, kids. I mean, congratulations and all, but seriously, thanks a lot.
I thought I'd take a cue from my blog friend Rob (he's my real friend too) and wax poetic on the passage of time.
A few weeks ago, I made a fort.
No, not some sort of metaphorical fort to shield me from the rapid onset of adulthood. I'm not that deep. A real fort, made from couch cushions and sheets. I really don't know how it happened. I was hanging out with a few friends after an apartment party. The theme was a hipster dance party, so The Shins and John Vanderslice were on heavy rotation. There was fondue and fruitshi (fruit sushi) and people were having college drinks. It was a great time, and quite the adult-ish party.
After everyone cleared out, I was going to help the ladies move their furniture back to its original positions when it happened. I don't know who brought it up, but someone half-jokingly suggested that we make a fort. The four of us immediately latched onto the idea and spontaneously reverted back to little kids. We moved the couches, draped some sheets, and got a couple candles for light (our one adult exception. We weren't trusted with fire when we were 4. Probably a good idea.) We probably spent an hour in that fort, telling stories and being ridiculous. Eventually, we had to leave and return to our near-adult lives and do near-adult things, but for a brief time, we were kids again. It was one of the best times I've had in a while and it was a memory that I'll remember for a long time.
So I guess the moral is this...spend some time in a fort soon. This one can be metaphorical, I guess, but it's better if it's real. Life is too short to be adult all the time. Getting married is a very adult thing to do, but it's cool because then you always have someone to build a fort with.
Well, I should get started on writing my best man toast, because I'm already under a lot of pressure to deliver the most hilarious toast ever. I hope the happy couple is okay with Robert Goulet delivering their toast...
GOULET!
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