Originally, when describing the movie Legion, I described Jeep's character as a "retarded hick." I decided to change it to "stupid hick" because associating him with the mentally challenged is insulting to them. I must apologize to the hick community for associating him with them because I'm sure he is in no way representative. This is Hollywood after all.
So a couple of my friends and I went to see Legion this Saturday. We picked it because it looked like a bad action movie that we could laugh at, and it didn't disappoint in any way. I encourage everybody with a dark sense of humor to go see it. Here is the best review I can give:
The rich lady is going to get hysterical. The impetuous teen is going to repent. Just because there are two black men doesn't mean they can't kill off both because of some stupid white people The crotchety old man is going to get the last laugh. The pregnant woman is going to accept her baby and raise him to be the savior. Despite not doing jack shite, the stupid hick is going to get the girl because he's the "hero." Nobody gets a backstory except for the British guy who does all the spinny-kicks/punches/gun. Nobody kills anything except for the British guy who kills everything and comes back from the dead. Everybody dies regardless of character development, except for the pregnant woman and the stupid hick who don't develop in any way whatsoever.
Moving on, I've discovered that my system doesn't work if I don't do homework. The idea is to split things up so I'm doing a little bit each day, but this past week and weekend there've been days I've not done anything. This screws up my system because I need do a lot of work some days, which discourages me from doing work, which means I don't do any work, repeat ad. infinitum. Today I've decided that, in order to do ENOUGH work, I need to convince myself that I need to do too much work, in order to be pleasantly surprised later. I've gotten a good air of curmudgeon and distaste for the world going, that I feel is very promising for my work ethic. This falls in line with my theory that I do my best work when I'm over worked and absolutely disgusted at the world (case in point: Scouting Spreadsheet).
To wrap up, I forgot to blog this last Sunday, and then again on Monday. So this means that you SHOULD get more blogs this week than you would otherwise. I'm sure some of you will be happy about this.
Additional:
I'm meeting too many new people. So I leave for breakfast round about ten, and I meet this guy I know on the way there, he joins me. Now I call him "this guy" because I cannot remember his name. He and I talk for some time (maybe an hour) about journalism, and he tells me some things that I can really use. For one, my idyllic vision of myself as a journalist definitely isn't the way to go. But we talk for a while and while he can keep on going, I run out of things to say.
Later, we head back to the dorm, and split paths there, and I realize I meant to head to the library after breakfast, so I turn around. Then this guy compliments me on my hair. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him getting off a bus, and I don't think much of it. Then, when I'm about to walk up the stairs away from my dorm, he calls to me. Now, I have this nasty habit of turning around when people call to me, whether or not I really want to talk to them. This makes things awkward when people are asking for donations or whotnot (there was this one time in Japan that haunts my memories). But I turn, and find out what he wants. He compliments my hair. Says that he is impressed that I wear my hair long, like his, and at this he pulls his hair out from under his coat, and indeed he has long deadlocks. He's a black man, with a black rag tied tight over the top of his head, so tight it looks like he could be bald underneath, and he wears a puffy, orange and red jacket, over a white shirt with some printed pattern on it I can't recall. It looks like he normally keeps his hair tucked into the collar of this shirt. He smells strongly of peanuts, and talks and acts with a strong, friendly charisma, which is terrifying to a recluse like me, but I smile and thank him for his compliment. Then he goes on to tell me a Bible story, of Samson and Delilah. I'll not recount it here, but he also explains how his mother couldn't ever pay to have his hair cut, so she shaved him herself, and he couldn't have long hair until he earned his own money to pay to have his hair cut himself. Before we part, he tells me that the moral of the story is that I have beautiful hair. I thank him and head to the library.
I also have become part of a team here in Pullman working on an engineering competition. It's a lot like being back on Chief Sealth's robotics team, because everything is so loose and informal, and every part of product is subject to "ohh that seems expensive." The team doesn't have much money, so I'm drawing on my history and experience with Skunkworks to try and bring some benefit. I'd like to institute some greater organization for the team, because that could not only bring in more funding, but it could also produce a better design. They're ten weeks in and they only have a vague concept and a 3-d model of that vague concept. So I've asked for help from the robotics team, and I'm talking with Mr. Miller and Mr. Steele about things. That brings with it a pressure to perform, because I've not only sold my abilities to the WSU team, but I've also presented myself to Mr. Steele and Mr. Miller, and I feel like I would be letting them down if I didn't find some way to use their advice. It's going to be hard work, and another thing on my platter. I'm afraid of biting off more than I can chew.
On the way here, I think about how many people I know, and how I really feel outclassed by every one of them. I don't consider this a bad thing, they seem quite impressed with me (for what reason I cannot guess), so I figure that it's better to be humble and have a driving force than to be proud and stagnant. But all these people I know, every time I talk to them, I seem to feel pressed to present the best side of myself. I'm not really horribly concerned, and I figure that it'll either pass or I'll find a way to deal with it, but I thought you would like to know.
So a couple of my friends and I went to see Legion this Saturday. We picked it because it looked like a bad action movie that we could laugh at, and it didn't disappoint in any way. I encourage everybody with a dark sense of humor to go see it. Here is the best review I can give:
The rich lady is going to get hysterical. The impetuous teen is going to repent. Just because there are two black men doesn't mean they can't kill off both because of some stupid white people The crotchety old man is going to get the last laugh. The pregnant woman is going to accept her baby and raise him to be the savior. Despite not doing jack shite, the stupid hick is going to get the girl because he's the "hero." Nobody gets a backstory except for the British guy who does all the spinny-kicks/punches/gun. Nobody kills anything except for the British guy who kills everything and comes back from the dead. Everybody dies regardless of character development, except for the pregnant woman and the stupid hick who don't develop in any way whatsoever.
Moving on, I've discovered that my system doesn't work if I don't do homework. The idea is to split things up so I'm doing a little bit each day, but this past week and weekend there've been days I've not done anything. This screws up my system because I need do a lot of work some days, which discourages me from doing work, which means I don't do any work, repeat ad. infinitum. Today I've decided that, in order to do ENOUGH work, I need to convince myself that I need to do too much work, in order to be pleasantly surprised later. I've gotten a good air of curmudgeon and distaste for the world going, that I feel is very promising for my work ethic. This falls in line with my theory that I do my best work when I'm over worked and absolutely disgusted at the world (case in point: Scouting Spreadsheet).
To wrap up, I forgot to blog this last Sunday, and then again on Monday. So this means that you SHOULD get more blogs this week than you would otherwise. I'm sure some of you will be happy about this.
Additional:
I'm meeting too many new people. So I leave for breakfast round about ten, and I meet this guy I know on the way there, he joins me. Now I call him "this guy" because I cannot remember his name. He and I talk for some time (maybe an hour) about journalism, and he tells me some things that I can really use. For one, my idyllic vision of myself as a journalist definitely isn't the way to go. But we talk for a while and while he can keep on going, I run out of things to say.
Later, we head back to the dorm, and split paths there, and I realize I meant to head to the library after breakfast, so I turn around. Then this guy compliments me on my hair. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him getting off a bus, and I don't think much of it. Then, when I'm about to walk up the stairs away from my dorm, he calls to me. Now, I have this nasty habit of turning around when people call to me, whether or not I really want to talk to them. This makes things awkward when people are asking for donations or whotnot (there was this one time in Japan that haunts my memories). But I turn, and find out what he wants. He compliments my hair. Says that he is impressed that I wear my hair long, like his, and at this he pulls his hair out from under his coat, and indeed he has long deadlocks. He's a black man, with a black rag tied tight over the top of his head, so tight it looks like he could be bald underneath, and he wears a puffy, orange and red jacket, over a white shirt with some printed pattern on it I can't recall. It looks like he normally keeps his hair tucked into the collar of this shirt. He smells strongly of peanuts, and talks and acts with a strong, friendly charisma, which is terrifying to a recluse like me, but I smile and thank him for his compliment. Then he goes on to tell me a Bible story, of Samson and Delilah. I'll not recount it here, but he also explains how his mother couldn't ever pay to have his hair cut, so she shaved him herself, and he couldn't have long hair until he earned his own money to pay to have his hair cut himself. Before we part, he tells me that the moral of the story is that I have beautiful hair. I thank him and head to the library.
I also have become part of a team here in Pullman working on an engineering competition. It's a lot like being back on Chief Sealth's robotics team, because everything is so loose and informal, and every part of product is subject to "ohh that seems expensive." The team doesn't have much money, so I'm drawing on my history and experience with Skunkworks to try and bring some benefit. I'd like to institute some greater organization for the team, because that could not only bring in more funding, but it could also produce a better design. They're ten weeks in and they only have a vague concept and a 3-d model of that vague concept. So I've asked for help from the robotics team, and I'm talking with Mr. Miller and Mr. Steele about things. That brings with it a pressure to perform, because I've not only sold my abilities to the WSU team, but I've also presented myself to Mr. Steele and Mr. Miller, and I feel like I would be letting them down if I didn't find some way to use their advice. It's going to be hard work, and another thing on my platter. I'm afraid of biting off more than I can chew.
On the way here, I think about how many people I know, and how I really feel outclassed by every one of them. I don't consider this a bad thing, they seem quite impressed with me (for what reason I cannot guess), so I figure that it's better to be humble and have a driving force than to be proud and stagnant. But all these people I know, every time I talk to them, I seem to feel pressed to present the best side of myself. I'm not really horribly concerned, and I figure that it'll either pass or I'll find a way to deal with it, but I thought you would like to know.
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