Candy or Sunshine

The first one of you to correctly identify the connection between the above title (hint: think Michael J. Fox movies) and the date on which I publish this post (hint: think non-Michael J. Fox movies) will win a poster of Margaret Thatcher (hint: because I don't want it).

Prepare yourselves now for a journey through my mind, as it actually unfolded Wednesday during the most mind-numblingly boring class I've ever endured. I only survived because I afterwards raced over to a gym to reenergize myself with a body mass index measurement. It's an invigorating experience that I'm almost stunned didn't play some part in my movie-of-the-summer Crank (hint: think non-Michael F. Snox movies). After a few minutes of poking and prodding, I learned my organs were all of average weight... except for my brain, which had, as suggested above, been numbed into a lesser state of matter.

Embrace, for the journey hath begun:

*********

10:01 - I learn that today's Research Methods class will focus on how to effectively take notes, read articles, and avoid plagiarism. I immediately regret not drinking more the night before.
10:05 - I realize that listening to the lecture is no longer an option, and I begin to doodle. It's a cat.
10:23 - The cat now sits under a mushroom umbrella. It is joined by another cat who's wearing a visor and carrying a jack-o-lantern. Above them are two twisted Pac-men eating a shiny apple, a mutated duck/lion singing eighth notes, and the sun. Below them is the sea, with one two-headed fish and a whale/island.


10:25 - I feel my time would better be used on poetry.
10:41 - The poem is complete. It's a bit lengthy, but you can find the unabridged draft at the end of this post.
10:43 - I draw a picture to go along with the poem. It shows a man in a viking/cowboy hat carrying moneybags. You might notice that my drawings feature many slash-separated images such as duck/lion and viking/cowboy. This is because I can't draw. My intentions inevitably divide into many ultimate realities. Oh, I put a sun on this picture as well. I like the sun.
10:46 - I try to pay attention again. This attempt soon transforms into an attempt at playing sub-Atari quality games like Brick on my iPod without being noticed by the teacher. This attempt soon ends with the revelation that I should have brought my Nintendo DS.

Me playing my DS.

10:53 - I start to notice that the teacher is only about halfway through her material although the class is almost over.
10:54 - I start to sweat.
10:57 - It hits me. I write a note to Victoria next to me asking when the class ends. She writes "12." I die inside. A lot.
10:59 - I sweat profusely.
11:00 - I run out of liquid to sweat, making this otherwise symbolic timestamp quite anticlimactic.
11:02 - I draw a picture of a sword going through a heart. All subtelty has been lost.
11:05 - I begin to write a timeline about history itself. I call it the "History of History." It's an ambitious project, I know, but I lessen the load by beginning in the year 1900, in which "History is born." I continue this project only up to the year 1924 before growing bored. Some highlights include:
1903 - History attends a pretentious nursery school.
1909 - History wins a writing contest for its short story "Sam the Cat."
1910 - History gets a pet cat and names it Robert.
1914 - History starts to hate its parents.
11:17 - Those sitting near me, such as Victoria, start to worry about my health when they see a comic I've just drawn. The art shows a one-toothed baby saying, "I want to learn how to write good." The r's are written backwards all cutely and shit. The art also shows a malicious, Moriarty-like character responding to the baby with the exclamation, "No! You're Dumb!"
11:29 - I recover from the slight embarassment of having my insanity revealed by sketching a Latin American villa. There are five buildings in the town, which from left to right are: una paneria (a bread store), una carcel (a jail), una escuela (a school), una tienda de navidad (a Christmas store), and un edificio abandonado (an abandoned building). There's also a fountain, OF COURSE!


11:40 - The rest of my time is spent drawing bodies which fall out of a chute on the top of a page and into a grave on the bottom of the same page. In each margin I pen numerous sad-looking cats, each waving a paw "goodbye" at the bodies. I will not post this image here because I do not want to be condemned to the loony bin until after Christmas. Those train sets in La Tienda de Navidad looked too fun!
11:59 - Class ends one minute early. I'm too dead to know.

***********

Untitled Poem

Embraced upon the summer storm
The man came down from on his throne
And greeted thee with less than he
With money, power, gold and glee
The men to man did not know where
To spend their latest summer fare
And said to man from up on high
"Please take it back now to the sky"
For as the man forgot to know
Those who do not have cannot but glow
But not glow, glow, we do not heed
Because we are from different steed
We cannot talk, because we're dumb
We cannot speak, because we're mum
We open our mouths, yes, it's true
Yet just to eat our poor man's stew
Made of beans and rice and grass
And animals who cross our path
Food we do, but else we don't
We pave the path to heaven's moat
With bodies gone and empty minds
And other goods that you might find
When back upon the throne you sit.
Unbothered by death.
Unbothered a bit.