So Common Ground's drag show is tonight. Normally, I wouldn't be that excited about going - but this year they have a surprise faculty guest doing a drag routine.

If you lean in really close, I'll whisper who it is!

Dr. Frucht

That right there, ladies and gentlemen, is worth the $5. That, paired witht the rest of the extremely talented and beautiful queens, should help us have fun for one night, even though the world is still going to crap.

I don't want to name names, but Jed Murr of Maryville, Missouri (Co-President of Amnesty International and dedicated Hangar employee), has been talkin trash about Mr. Rogers.

Jed: "Mr. Rogers touched me in my bathing suit area multiple times when I was a child. Also, for the record, I've never been anti-Dipt."

You heard it, straight from the horses mouth. This man is a LEADER on campus, and has compared Lawrence, KS to Nazi Germany.

Kevin has requested that I write more on this blog. He "craves more, like a novel...447 pages of thoughts, single spaced, 10 point font...".

Well, we can all dream.

And incidently, I realize now that when I did my post on cover songs I should have included "Back that Ass Up" by Newfound Glory...my error. Please stop leaving threatening messages on my machine.

First it was Jam Master J. Then Joe Strummer. Now Mr. Rogers. One by one, the icons of my youth are returning to dust. Sigh.

I know it's not that dramatic, really.

Also, Phil Donahue has been taken off the air. Why, you might ask? One could blame the ratings, but seeing as how he was actually ahead of Hardball, that excuse falls kind of flat. I try not to use the mass media conspiracy that often, but I think everyone will agree that now we have an almost exclusively "fair and balanced" conservative spin on the news. The few indepedent voices we have had have been silenced.

To be fair, though, the Dave Chapelle show is still on.

You know, I love Margaret Cho. In an increasingly anti-feminist, anti-intelligence and anti-independent world for women, at least I can pop in her DVD and have a good laugh. She is just too cool.

If you are living under a rock or in a basement or something, get out and tune into what all of us women are really thinking when we're smiling politely at you.

Well, maybe not ALL women. Just the women named Margaret that happen to kick ass.

This is a great article.

Although this is satire rather than news (or is it?), it still irks me that I have to read news from another country to get a mostly accurate account.

All of you die hard NW Amnesty benefit concert goers will be pleased to know that another is in the works for this semester, if we can pull it off. Look forward to Tabla Rasa, and possibly Kevin playing "Iron Man" (don't ask for an encore, that's all he knows).

Oh woe is me.

I got up this morning, and was watching the campus channel, which is really a radio station that doesn't play college rock at all, but instead top 40 from last year. For those of you non-Bearcats out there, I hope that made a little bit of sense. One of the posted notices on the screen was that...now, sit down here...Coolio and Rob Base & DJ EZ Rock are coming to perform in March.

Excuse me while I shake my head in embarassment.

Those of you out there who have not experienced "entertainment" on this campus might be thinking - "Hey, for kitsch value that's awesome - go dance and kick it old school, right?"

Wrong.

You see, this is the only entertainment we will be getting this year. This is it. Every year, the people in charge of this stuff blow the entire budget on some rediculous has been that no one really cares about. Now granted, I heard this in a gossip session, but it's rumored that Ani DiFranco could have performed here (not that I would personally care, but she is better than Coolio). But no, instead of getting someone vaguely hip, we get middle aged rappers. Last year they brought in Sir MixALot and Ton Loc for the love of God.

I guess next year we can look forward to Digital Underground.

Ted Rall. What a guy.

Seeing as how the new Johnny Cash song/video is so popular, I felt a few comments regarding covers were relevant.

First off, "Hurt" is a great song, and Cash really did it justice. When I listen to it, however, I can't help thinking what would have happened if he'd covered other songs off that album (i.e. - "Closer"). I don't think it would have been pretty.

Top Five Covers (as of today)

1.) How Soon Is Now (The Smiths) - Quicksand
2.) She's Leaving Home (The Beatles) - Tori Amos
3.) Cortez the Killer (Neil Young and Crazy Horse) - Built to Spill
4.) The Chauffer (Duran Duran) - The Deftones
5.) Maggie's Farm (Bob Dylan) - Rage Against the Machine

Some covers never should have been contemplated, let alone brought into existance.

Top Five HORRIBLE, PIANFUL, GUT WRENCHING COVERS (ever)

1.) Ring of Fire (Johnny Cash) - Grace Jones (it's even reggae)
2.) Never Let Me Down Again (Depeche Mode) - Smashing Pumpkins
3.) Blister In the Sun (Violent Femmes) - Indigo Girls
4.) Honky Tonk Woman (Rolling Stones) - Melissa Etheridge and Van (Hagar) Halen
5.) MacArthur Park (Richard Harris) - Donna Summer

If you haven't heard any of these, spend this afternoon downloading them. It will be a big enough distraction to take your mind off the state of the world.

HTML really sucks. I'm not kidding.

It's the end of an era, really.

No longer is it safe to go to nightclubs. Any possible way the shit goes down, you're going to get trampled and suffocate. Just stay home and listen to your Mp3's.

I know this isn't very nice to say, but maybe the reason the little Rhode Island incident took place is because it was a GREAT WHITE show. I was listening to some journalist who was there when it happened, and he said that the crowd just stood and watched the building catch on fire. Yup, these people also paid probably...gosh, $10 to see this band. So really, is anyone surprised?

What can we learn from this tragedy? The 80's are over. Compare it to Altamont if you must be dramatic. The innocence is gone. That's why I'm having a small dinner party at my place tonight. As long as everyone is responsible and no hair bands are played on the stereo, things SHOULD go well and everyone will get out alive.

Incidently, John Frusciante is way hot in the new Chili Peppers video. I tell ya, I like my men crooning in a trash can.

You know, nothing is more fun than getting together with close friends and going to The Pub. Especially when there are two for one pitcher specials (even if it is for domestic).

On the other hand, the next day isn't much fun.

There are times in my life when I am struck with an uncommon sense of clarity. An epiphany, in the truest "Portrait of An Artist" sense of the word. I am having one of those right now.

I live in a small, midwestern rural college town, Maryville, Missouri. I have lived here off and on since I came to school here in 1996. Coming from a fairly intellectual and politically progressive background, it was a bit of a culture shock to be thrown into an "academic" environment where business, marketing and agriculture were the big departments on campus. Almost immediately upon my arrival I began to complain about the COMPLETE lack of bookstores, record stores, coffee shops, vegetarian alternatives (both on and off campus) - and well, there was nowhere to get decent tahini.

I always pictured college as being a place to meet interesting people, learn exciting things...broaden my horizons. Nope. Not Northwest Missouri State University (Your Ultimate Choice TM). I met no one who cared about the rape of Tibet. No one who knew who L7 was. No one that watched "Kids in the Hall". No one that had read Carl Sagan.

I adapted. Joined student government. Joined a sorority. Put my political priorities on the back burner. I became friends with people I had nothing in common with. I went to bars and drank pitchers. I ate at McDonald's. I majored in business. I started wearing color. My parents were confused, but figured it was normal rebellion. My fiance...well, he'd love me no matter what, so he just observed with bemused fascination.

Eventually I left Maryville, and went to be an adult in Kansas City. I whored myself out to both the private and public sector. I lived a clean and predictable life. I don't even think I picked up a newspaper once during that time. It was sad, really.

I moved back to Maryville to live with my soon to be husband. Things were starting to change. Bush had been "elected". The Roe V. Wade arguement was becoming relevant again. Then there was September 11.

All of this snowballed with me. The things I cared about politically and morally came to be the most important forces in my life. I became active in the free speech, human rights and pro-choice movements. I spent hours reading news from all over the world, inhaling Zinn and other like-minded authors. The Clash, Dylan, Midnight Oil and System of a Down started heavy rotation in my stereo.

Because my husband was committed in Maryville to finish his master's degree, I knew we were stuck here. There was a handful of people who were as dedicated as we to positive change, and were a great comfort sometimes. But it wasn't enough. I needed more. I felt a great injustice that I was stuck here in Maryville. The apathy and ignorance, both on campus and in the community, was staggering. Our chapter of Amnesty International would have informational tables in the Student Union occasionally to promote peace and knowledge on the upcoming (unwarranted) war with Iraq. People wouldn't even pretend to be for or against - they would just say "I don't care".

How can human beings not care about the innocent lives lost? The classist discrimination of our military? The economic and political results of this war? If I must be rather plain - it's their tax dollars. I care about where my money goes.

I blamed my frustration on Maryville. I came up with numerous examples of how this college and this town was robbing me of my chance to really get involved with a movement that was long overdue.

I'm not sure when it hit me. Like a bolt out of the blue, I realized that Maryville is probably painfully representative of the majority of this country. Isolated and unaware by choice. Yes, I can watch the footage of the anti-war demonstrations that pulled millions together and be wistful. I can get my notinmyname.org updates and wish I had a lot of frequent flier miles to use for NYC. But the truth probably is, no matter where I go, I'll be in the minority of reason. This country has a long proud tradition of flock-like patriotism, and my civil dissent simply does not fit the mold.

What does this mean to me? I don't know yet. When I get it figured out, I'll let you know.

Top Five Things That Really Screw Me Up:

1.) Buttered popcorn flavored jelly beans
2.) Soft shell turtles
3.) Holding a piece of chalk
4.) Watching Trinity Broadcasting Network (the pink haired lady was rolling around on the floor and speaking in tongues last night with Benny "Combover" Hinn)
5.) North Korea

I went to an anti-war protest this weekend in Lawrence, KS. There was a really interesting mix of people - families, teenagers, elderly, clergy, etc. Despite being the largest regional demonstration that day, it was not covered by any of the local television media. There were some channels, however, that broadcasted footage of the pro-war demonstration (about 300 in attendance) at the JC Nichols fountain on Saturday. Fair and objective?

I have hit a new low in pop culture by watching, in most of it's entirety, the "Joe Millionaire Crazy Two Hour Extravaganza" last night. I can't really explain why I felt the need to absorb this trite, well worn territory, but I think it has something to do with a Cinderella complex (or lack thereof).

Inspired by Mac Tonnies and Dave Berry (bet you never thought you'd see those two together in a sentence), I'm starting this blog. Odd, since I have no webpage and not even internet service in my home.

This day is dragging. On. And on. I'm in the library, which is just about as hopping as the Outback. As slutty as I have been in my life, it would never occur to me to go the library to hook up with someone. Well, not this library, anyway. Maybe the Library of Congress.