I like mafia movies. Normally I don't like movies with a lot of graphic violence or gratuitious crime, but give me Bobby Deniro and Joe Pesci, maybe Al Pacino and la cosa nostra, and I'm pretty happy. I don't always like how they kill off some of my favorite people unexpectedly (Joe Pesci), or how they tend to kill people suddenly while they are getting into cars to go visit their wives or return to their humble wigmaking businesses. I guess the people making the films are trying to show how killing is part of these people's lives just like driving cars or making high quality wigs. Still, I tend to get on edge as soon as anyone, at any point in the movie, opens a car door. I don't like that kind of stress. Maybe it means I couldn't hack it in the mob. Hell, I know I couldn't hack it in the mob. They'd give me a nickname like Skinny Joey and push me around all the time. I'd have to be crazy and whack people all the time just to get some respect.
I only mention this because I just rented and watched Goodfellas and liked it a lot.
Today I ran the longest, distance and time-wise, that I ever have in a day or in a single run. I started out with all of the guys who showed up for morning practice (coach lets us choose whether to come at 10am or 4pm on Sundays) and ran towards Carlisle, where we've gone for three out of our last four long runs. I really didn't want to go there even though it's a cool place where they have trails and horse stables and stuff so I turned onto a bike path that runs through Lorain County and took it through the arboretum, where there are a number of paths through woods and another access to the bike path. After jogging around there for a while I hooked back up with the bike path. When I'm running, and I believe this is true for a lot of runners, I'm really tuned in to things around me. I was running on the shoulder of one of the roads, going north into a wind with one leg on the ground and one in the air and I noticed a green frog with brownish spots below the airborne leg. I certainly didn't want to step on it, so I pushed off slightly harder with my left foot and sailed past the frog. While in the air, both legs off the ground, I wondered if the frog was scared by my coming upon it, or if it was even alive to be scared. In flight I saw that indeed it was dead, and had only a red spot on the gravel where its right hind leg should have been. I ran on, left-right-left-right for another half a minute, and wondered how long it had taken me to notice and process that frog. I take around 90 strides in a minute (180 foot contacts) and it had taken me about half a stride to know all of that about a frog and change my actions accordingly. So, maybe 1/6 of a second? Pretty cool. I've noticed this a few times before, trying to avoid things that are only a footfall away and seeing thorns on a protruding branch individually as sharp, shiny spikes and angling my shoulders to avoid the prickers. I don't know if my mind is active or very calm when I'm running that it can notice these things to actutely and even react with control over swinging legs and arms. It is tiring, though, running 2 hours with a pretty sharp focus and not really getting a break. I'm looking forward to a nap before dinner.
Aside from the normal whole-body tiredness I get after a long run, I don't feel too tired. I even learned how to rock climb this afternoon, which was exhausting enough by itself. I will sleep well tonight, anyway.

Columbia Visit!

I just got back from my first visit to Columbia as an official college student. I have to say, everything looks smaller than I remember now that I'm all grown up. It was kind of a whirlwind of a trip, even though I took it pretty easy once I got to Columbia. Flying down for a long weekend was pretty enjoyable, on the whole. I only missed one Bio. lecture for the test tomorrow, and I already know basically everything there is to know about the kidney, nephrons, and such. Thanks anyway Yolanda Cruz. She's my Biology teacher, and she's really cool. Sassy, I would call her. She will sometimes ask questions like she is mad at you a little bit, with her hand on her hip all attitudinal like "Can you synthesize cellulose? You cannot, can you? huh?" I want to answer her like "no ma'am, I can't, but I can try if you like," and hope she calms down some.
In my recent travels I spent a lot of time around airline personnel. They are a group of extremes, I tells ya. Anybody who is actually going somewhere seems like they're in a good mood (the pilots, flight attendants, the bus driver who saw a wild turkey and told me to catch his bus in November so we could come back and get it for thanksgiving); but the people who stay put are always pissed off, it seems. The security people can't believe that anybody doesn't know that you have to take your shoes and your jacket and your belt off and take your laptop out of your bag and put it in its own container and you need your boarding passes again even though I just showed them to the guy on the other side of the metal detectors. the X-ray people are bored and radiated out of their minds, I'm sure. The Starbucks barista was just delightful and greeted me with "What?" instead of "How can I help you?" or some other standard phrase. Maybe it's all the standing while everyone else is moving, I don't know. Airports are stressful places. A lot of hurrying up so that you can wait, it seems.
Fall is coming quickly, and all of the sudden I feel super duper busy. An upperclassman told me once that it was hard not to get involved with a lot of stuff, maybe even too much stuff, at Oberlin. I laughed then. Now, not so much. I've been doing cross country since before school started, and classes started a couple weeks later. It started out slow enough, with one or two classes a day and light homework. Nowadays I have two quizzes every Tuesday, an exam in Bio tomorrow, lab reports due early next week, a trip to Como last week, a job at the Mad Factory downtown (where they mass produce insanity, I tell my friends), and applications in for a paid blogging position with the Office of Communications and a publicity photographer job with the dept. of theater and dance. Whew! I guess i just kept finding stuff that I really wanted to do (or that the college makes me do). Plus, they PAY you to do cool stuff. At the job I have currently I get paid to play improv games with kids, I would be paid if I got the blogging position, and paid for doing photography. I realize the last two are far far from set in stone right now, but getting one of them even would be really cool. Provided I still have time for sleep. That shameless hussy.

Sleep is a fickle mistress, I've found. A mobile bedfellow, a here-today-gone-tomorrow slut of a partner. I've been having trouble with sleep lately. It hasn't been affecting my running or schooling too much, because on the whole I think I've been getting enough sleep. Just kind of weird sleep, that's all. When I try to go to bed, my mind starts going into creative overdrive. I started conceiving a murder mystery in my head last night that takes place in a convent called Then There Were Nuns, then remembered that I had a job interview today and had to get a list of conflicts and references together and all this crap. I just couldn't close my eyes and sleep. My roommate also keeps peculiar hours, which doesn't help. Sleeping most of the day, the "Fussin' Russian" (I just dubbed him) took out the recycling for us Saturday night around 3:30 AM, making some noise with the glass bottles along the way.

EDITOR'S NOTE: This post was actually about 4 times as long as is shown here. Blogger.com, useful as it is, messed up the autosave function after I had published the last note and went to add some tags. I lost everything except this first lonely paragraph. I went on to write about how cool it was to be busy with stuff you like to to, fun times I've had around campfires, and all the cures for cancer I've discovered thus far. Also a pretty sweet joke about an American who is invited to a party in the mountains of Scotland. Far too much trouble to re-write, I may clue my chem teacher in about the cancer cures, tho. After I sleep. Oh, sleep...

Cross

I just got home from one of the most fun Cross Country meets of my life. Oberlin has a brand new course with new paths around some soybean fields to our northwest. Half of the course was on the athletic practice fields (which was really great for fans because it was just to the north of Philips gym and we run through the fields four times) and half was back on the brand new path, covered with woodchips and, today at least, little puddles all over the place. It rained all day yesterday and through the night, and only let up a little after four miles today. Sam said it depressed him because this is what Oberlin is like the whole month of November, apparently. I felt like a little kid running through all the tiny lakes periodically through the course and getting so wet that I didn't even look for the driest path through the grass. I started fading halfway through the race and Derek L. really helped me out: he motioned for me to follow him. It's so funny, you can choose to go a little faster at any point during a cross country race, but you don't always want to or see a reason to. But, since Derek gave me a little wave I decided to speed up and stayed with him for the next mile and a half, when otherwise I would be watching his back get farther and farther away. As it turned out, I ran the fastest 8k (approx. 5 mi.) course in 29:07, a big personal best, and really good for such a wet and sloppy course. Then again, Wet N' Sloppy was my nickname on my high school XC team. I figured it had to do more with my kissing style than anything else.
Out of eight teams,the boys got third and the women got first! Joanna J.'s such a badass, she won by about a quarter mile and beat plenty of the boys' times. Not mine though. Hell no. The team aspect is one great thing about doing a sport in college. The school, coaches, and administrators also take really good care of you. We got bottles of Gatorade and Clif bars (chocolate chip and peanut butter) as soon as we finished and I changed into my super-comfy new Asics, provided by the school. I feel like such a big shot. I took a hot shower when I got back to my dorm that felt really really good, washed the wet clothes that I didn't give to Larry, our personable equipment manager, and then laid down for about 45 minutes looking at the ceiling. Nothing makes me quite as tired as a cold, wet, sloppy cross country race. whew.

The Mythbusters Man

The Discovery Channel show Mythbusters is a weekly staple for viewers looking for some urban legend debunking or verification. Right? Perhaps on the surface, but in reality, the main purpose of the show is entertainment for nerds. While some of the myths have practical applications, I doubt that anyone who was washing their clothes in fermented urine stopped after the Mythbusters disproved its efficacy (Ironically, anyone doing that in the first place was probably living in either prison or a Unibomber-style shack in the woods, so they probably missed that episode). What does the format and subject matter of the show say about it viewers, intently watching and laughing along with the semi-science that captivates the biggest audience of any Discovery Channel show?
The target demographic, first of all, is pretty obvious: men. The show features 'science' which is field traditionally, tragically, devoid of women. Fires, explosions, and guns are all staples of the program, even more than they are staples of movies featuring Sylvester Stallone. It certainly isn't true that women don't ever appreciate a big bang, but just that men do so much more. And almost every show ends with a bang, quite literally, including a cement truck that was totally obliterated, a dummy shot hundreds of feet out of a sewer pipe, various household items left in the microwave too long, and a car, dropped from a crane simply because the owner didn't want it anymore. Car myths are huge on Mythbusters, another reason it would appeal to men more than women. To men, women are seen as complements to cars, or the perks of having really nice cars. The female psyche does not seem to be wired in this fashion, for reasons beyond any science the Discovery Channel is willing to tackle.
Of the men watching TV, why aren't all of them watching Mythbusters? Because the good people at the Discovery Channel aren't just targeting the men in America, they're going for the nerdy men in America. By being on the Discovery Channel, first of all, the men who flunked out of high school physics know to stay clear, figuring that the Discovery Channel just plays a loop of a cheetah bringing down an antelope in slow-motion all day. Occasionally, the show will run into a concept that they feel needs explaining, scientifically, and inserts a “WARNING: SCIENCE CONTENT” portion to clarify. Nerds like to chuckle when these screens appear and go to fix themselves some more herbal tea, since they already know Bernoulli's Principle, thank you very much. While these nerds are scientifically literate, they also have to be culturally literate. These myths are usually perpetuated orally, so someone who is hermetically sealed in their bedroom with their glowing computer screen probably wouldn't be interested in whether the hundreds of urban legends and old wives' tales they have heard are true.
So, the perfect Mythbusters watcher? It may be the essential 21^st Century man, after all. Technologically educated, masculine, culturally aware, and a bit nerdy. A man who likes to spend couch time, traditionally a time to sit vegetative and let colorful images wash over oneself, by becoming a little more informed, or maybe picking up little trivia to use in conversation some day. While the hosts of the show, Adam Savage and Jaime Hieneman, hardly have the 'nerdy chic' style that is so pervasive in 21^st Century America, the viewer of the show almost definitely does. They wear glasses, and do so proudly.

Oh, Stevie...

Dear Steve Martin,

I'd love to take this opportunity to talk to you about another one of my favorite persons/places/ things named Stevie, Steve Martin (I assume you read my new blog and have read about my favorite dining hall, Stevenson, and my favorite brother, Stephen). Gosh I used to love watching Steve Martin movies. He was always just so dern clever. I watched Roxanne with my dad when I was like five and loved it then, and loved it again when I was older and could actually understand the jokes. Lately, though Steve, you've been a little off. Let's take a journey through time with Steve Martin, all the way back to...

1979-The Jerk. I was born a young black child...Oh! How great was this movie? Steve and Bernadette, Carl Riener was in this movie! The dog was named Shithead! What's not to love? What a great start to your movie career Steve! Keep going....

1981- Pennies From Heaven. Drama! Music! Romance! Steve Martin and Bernadette Peters again! Plus Christopher Walken! I actually haven't seen this movie, but I've head it's GREAT!

1986-¡Three Amigos! Martin Short, Chevy Chase, Steve Martin, El Guapo, Jon Lovitz, Phil Hartman, a singing bush (Randy Newman's voice BTW)! This Movie had EVERYTHING! Stevie's on a roll!

1986 (again, you believe it?)- Little Shop of Horrors. He was the crazy-ass dentist who got fed to the plant! Genius!

1987- Roxanne. Wow. Wonderful modern take on Cyrano de Bergerac. You are truly a genius. Just don't start making family comedies with too many awful sequels and you'll be a legend...

1988- Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. Yeah, a man's movie. He's dirty, he's rotten, he's cheating women out of their money. There's a character I can get behind.

1991- L.A. Story. Alright, Steve Martin has some staying power. Excellent film, Sarah Jessica Parker starts her illustrious film career playing a dumb blond in L.A. Literally miles away from her dumb blond in New York act for HBO years later.

1991- Father of the Bride. Steve Martin turns a lame feel-good family movie into a hilarious tear-jerker. Ku-dos Steve, you're a real actor now. Just don't F it up...

1995- Father of the Bride Pt. 2. Umm, I think I remember saying something about family movie sequels... This one wasn't a train wreck, but don't let it happen again Martin, let's get back on track.

1996- Sgt. Bilko. Alright, another silly movie showcasing your silliness. Not bad, go make another classic.

1999- Bowfinger. What the hell...

2003- Bringing Down the House. Bringing down your credibility as well. Sure Eugene Levy's funny no matter how many American Pie movies he does, but honestly, did you read the script the whole way through when you signed on? I remember seeing a preview for this the first time and thinking "Okay, well at least the funniest guy in movies when I was little isn't stooping as low as dressing 'gangsta' and adopting ghetto slang" They saved that for the end of the preview, when I would lose the most respect for him.

2003- Cheaper By the Dozen. Ooohhhhhhhhhh Goddddddddddd! Steve! DO SOMETHING FUNNY! Or at least something original....

2005- Shopgirl. Not that!

2005- Cheaper By the Fucking Dozen 2. It's a Sequel.

2006- The Pink Panther. Well Steve, you wrote a screenplay from a cartoon that was already turned into a quality movie once, then you actually made the movie, which is more than a five year-old can do, so I guess you deserve some credit for that. I wonder if a five year-old could watch this movie, or even be amused by the flickering colors on the screen.

2007- Baby Mama. I have to give it to you Steve, you were a little funny in this one. Mostly because your part was written that way. I'd still rather watch your bit on SNL about "If I could have one wish this Christmas..." than all your scenes from this movie put together. Sorry.

Coming in 2009- Pink Panther 2! WHOO HOOO! Who saw this coming? Who fuckin' saw it coming?


Oh, Steve. I only write this and think these things because I have such respect for you and wish it were different. You started out and you were edgy and really clever (like Eddie Murphy in Beverly Hills Cop) and fizzled, and now you're soft, and kind of lame (like Eddie Murphy in everything else. Pluto Nash, for instance. Maybe Eddie deserves one of these lists). Find some how, some way to make good movies again please.

Love you Steve,
Joe

Intro-explaining the Soul Porpoise

Hi all,

First I guess I should give a quick note about the title of this blog. The other day I was eating dinner at Stevie Dining Hall (a wonderful establishment whose name I am a big fan of since I have an older brother named Stevie) and I thought for some reason about the phrase "sole purpose," like "my sole purpose for taking this biology class was to see diagrams of the mammary glands" and I thought about a sole porpoise, like a beluga searching around in the middle of a cold lake like "Guys? Guys?" But that seemed like it was too depressing what with people so concerned about polar bears and stuff so I changed it to a Soul Porpoise (all while waiting for the ice cream cart to clear up, you believe that?) and imagined a narwhal, no longer alone, but chilling with some cool shades and maybe an alto saxophone. Oh, and lots and lots of soul.
Giggling like crazy, I returned to my table, hardly able to keep my porpoise thought to myself, and waited for an opportune break in the conversation to interject a snub-nosed whale joke. I don't know if I explained it well, because four of the five people I told just kind of looked at me. I got a lot of "yeah, okay, so back on the subject of cork..." but my new best friend, a girl on the cross country team whose name I have not learned yet, laughed a hearty laugh and asked, "Did you just think of that? Oh my God, that's funny!" Oh, that was rewarding. I should really learn that girl's name.
I've been watching a ton of movies lately, five in the last five days actually, which was made possible by the Oberlin College library, boasting some 4000 DVDs on campus and bunches more through OhioLINK, which allows loans to Oberlin from any library in our solar system, as far as I can tell. Before I took home No Country for Old Men and Life is Beautiful the helpful lady at the library counter told me "you better have a whole box of tissues for that one" I assumed she meant Life is Beautiful, and so I watched this one first. A whole BOX of tissues? I didn't even need one, I didn't come once during that movie.
One thing I really enjoy about Oberlin is the number of people with a good appreciation for irony. Now, rape is never funny. It couldn't possibly be funny and I think it's terrible when it happens in real life. But among friends, in the context of a joke, when someone is moving around a dark house and accidentally has sex with a person he might not consent to having sex with under normal circumstances, it IS funny. People at Oberlin tend to get that. There are places in this world where irony just seems to be lost on people. If you had a friend with an unusually large posterior, and you nicknamed him Bubble Butt, some people who take things too seriously might stop and say "Well now why would you call him something like that? That could hurt someone's feelings!" and make every one of Bubble Butt's friends feel like bad people for using a funny nickname. Not to say that Oberlin isn't politically correct, but they definitely don't take themselves too seriously, which I definitely appreciate.
At dinner the other day I started to think about the phrase "my old man" I don't do this kind of thing that often, thinking about well-worn phrases, but I have been lately I guess. What if, when a person said "My old man always says 'If it ain't chocolate, it ain't worth it'," that person was actually talking about an old man that was theirs, not their father. Just like a pet senior citizen. Again, my dinner mates weren't as into it as I was. I think it would be a really good source for sage wisdom. I want one.