rock over London. rock on, Chicago.

I just watched a documentary on the Weather Underground. while I appreciate their zeal, and agree with some base agruments they made, it’s now even more official: I hate hippies.

not much is throwing down. could have gone to a show at some bar, but didn’t. could have gone to some bar with no show, but watched “Blade Runner” instead. eh. fuck it.

so last weekend I was working the opening shift, which is like five or six hours. It’s not bad, it’s a good way to spend your saturday as far as I’m concerned – it just gets busy, coworkers can be shitty, etc.

anyways, I’m taking out an order, and it says “Marines” for the name of the customer. and the address is the local recruiting office. and I don’t know, I guess my brain took a dump when I read it, cause I saw “Marines” and thought it was a latino woman’s name.

no shit. dead serious.

so I walk into the recruiting office, and it’s all sectioned up into four rooms for the four branches of service. so I go into the Navy office and ask if anyone ordered Dagwoods. the recruiting officer gets up and asks who it’s for. so I show him the ticket and say “Marinas?” I still don’t read it as Marines. I’m serious, now.

so he goes “that says ‘Marines.’” I swear to god, this happened.

then I go in there, and give the Marine Sergeant her food, and I’m standing in this office with all these recruiting posters and camo hanging all over the place, slogans dripping off the walls, and I make the second dumbest move of the day and I say “my parents were Marines.” you know, just trying to make small talk.

okay, I’m not sure how many of you have dealt with military recruiters. but they want to talk to you. they want to make small talk. small talk is their forte. it’s what they do. they want to get to know you, shoot the shit, then maybe, you know, talk about your future. “how you paying for college, son?” shit like that.

this sergeant springs to action. before I fucking know it, I’ve got two Marine baseball hats, her card, and a welcome to come and talk about the service any time I’d like. she said “once a Marine, always a Marine,” and claimed I looked like I was a product of the Corps. mind you, I still have somewhat of a mohawk and I’m wearing sweatpants (that I slept in the night before, if I’m not mistaken). the Army and Navy recruiters gave me their cards at the door.

I gave one of the hats to one of my hippy coworkers, and the other is in the back of my car.

okay, so let’s flash forward to today. the Marine Sergeant orders again. I show up late, as is my modus operandi. she’s on the phone when I show up, and she gives me a twenty for a seven dollar sandwich and waves me off.

so naturally, I figure she fucked up, and I hang around til she gets off the phone. so I ask her how much change she wants back.

she says none.

so I point out that she gave me a twenty for a seven dollar sandwich. that last phrase were my exact words.

she says thats fine.

what the fuck?

she tipped me 13 bucks! said something about it’s no big deal, knows how its tough to pay for college, and that “Marines look out for one another.”

fuck! I’m not a Marine! the fucking recruiting office is trying to get their fucking hooks in me. maybe it’s cause they think I’m retarded (“is there a ‘Marinas’ here?”), and I’ll sign anything they put in front of me. well goddamn, I just might, if they keep feeding me fat tips for being a decidedly mediocre delivery driver.

that’s all. just a funny story. I bet they order again next weekend.

ps- I bought “Q: Are we not Men? A: We are Devo!” by Devo. and it’s fucking awesome.

and I saw “Hotel Rwanda” yesterday, and teared up. good job on that one, western world!

and I’m listening to “Isobel” by Bjork right now, and I’m going to fall asleep.

extra double ps! it’s election day in Iraq. everybody remember to wear your headgear when you go to the polls!

you know, when there are only two montherfuckers left in an entire country who are keeping it real for the homeys, you’d think they’d try and get along, unite against a common enemy. maybe like the extremist Islamic state that was routinely harrassing and terrorizing you because of your beliefs … but no.



One of Kabul’s Last Remaining Jews Dies

http://news.findlaw.com/ap_stories/i/1104/1-25-2005/20050125084503_24.html

okay, first off, “Mar” is pronounced “mare.” and Mar(y) is my sister. if you needed either of these explanations, then you don’t know the fam very well. but that shouldn’t apply to many readers, cause as of right now I think the only people reading it are myself, Spencer, and Ashley like once a month. and they both know Mar and who she is … but I digress.





so anyway, I signed up for thefacebook.com.

it’s “an online directory that connects people through social networks at colleges.”

you can also use the facebook to

• Search for people at your school

• Find out who is in your classes

• Look up your friends’ friends

• See a visualization of your social network



all of that above is how the website describes itself. but I think a better description of it would be “a mildly amusing waste of time.”



anyway. Mar was over yesterday and I mentioned that I signed up for thefacebook. she more or less blanched, called me a tool, and said she found it disgusting how thefacebook was slowly replacing face to face human interaction and social networking, something we McMullans cherish (heh). she claims there are only two girls on her entire floor who aren’t on the website, and her neighbor actually got dressed up and put on makeup when she was taking her “profile pic.” that is all very un-Mar, by the way.

then she’s all up in my grill, like, “Matt, just watch. people you barely even remember are going to ‘poke’ you and ask to put you on their friends list.” she doesn’t like that, because, you know, that’s bullshit. these people aren’t really your friends. i’ll give her that.

but anyway, I’m all like, “Mar. take a chill pill for jeeze’s sake! it’s all up in your head! ain’t nobody going to be poking on me!”



flash forward to about twenty minutes ago.

I sign onto thefacebook.com, and there’s a message waiting for me! holy shit, somebody wants to be my friend!

Karla Crawford.

who the fuck?

Karla Crawford … Karla … oh yeah. I went to high school with her. I’m trying to remember if I spoke to her during those four years. maybe once or twice in middle school. but I added her to my friends list anyway.



so in conclusion: you were right, Mar. you were right.



in the meantime: teach for America meeting tonight! slammin’!

the Post ran an editorial on one of my favorite subjects.



“Last week, in Pennsylvania’s Dover School District, an administrator read a statement to ninth-grade biology students saying that evolution is not fact. Over the objections of ninth-grade science teachers and of parents who have filed suit, he offered “intelligent design” as an alternative.”



what a fucking asshole that guy must be.



http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A31521-2005Jan23.html

1. i’m on facebook. uh, yeah, omg, finally!

2. the eagles are in the superbowl. hmm, maybe roadtrip? no?

I Left My Wallet in El Segundo – A Tribe Called Quest



My mother went away for a month-long trip

Her and some friends on an ocean-liner ship

She made a big mistake by leaving me home

I had to roam so I picked up the phone

Dialed Ali up to see what was going down

Told him I pick him up so we could drive around

Took the Dodge Dart, a ’74

My mother left a yard but I needed one more

Shaheed had me covered with a hundred greenbacks

So we left Brooklyn and we made big tracks

drove down the Belt, got on the Conduit

Came to a toll, we paid and went through it

Had no destination, we was on a quest

Ali laid in the back so he could get rest

Drove down the road for two-days-and-a-half

The sun had just risen on a dusty path

Just then a figure had caught my eye

A man with a sombrero who was four feet high

I pulled over to ask were we was at

His index finger he tipped up his hat

“El Segundo,” he said, “my name is Pedro

If you need directions, I’ll tell you pronto”

Needed civilization, some sort of reservation

He said a mile south, there’s a fast food station

Thanks, senor, as I start up the motor

Ali said, “Damn, Tip, why you drive so far for?”

(Well describe to me what the wallet looks like)

Anyway a gas station we passed

We got gas and went on to get grub

It was a nice little pub in the middle of nowhere

Anywhere would have been better

I ordered enchiladas and I ate ‘em

Ali had the fruit punch

When we finished we thought for ways to get back

I had a hunch

Ali said, “Pay for lunch,” so I did it

Pulled out the wallet and I saw this wicked beautiful lady

She was a waitress there

Put the wallet down and stared and stared

To put me back into reality, here’s Shaheed:

“Yo, Tip, man, you got what you need?”

I checked for keys and started to step

What do you know, my wallet I forget

Yo, it was a brown wallet, it had props numbers Had my jimmy hats I got to get it man

Lord, have mercy

The heat got hotter, Ali stars to curse me

I fell bad but he makes me feel badder

Chit-chit-chatter, car stars to scatter

Breaking on out, we was Northeast bound

Jettin’ on down at the seepd of sound

Three days coming and three more going

We get back and there was no slack

490 Madison, we’re here, Sha

He said, “All right, Tip, see you tomorrow”

Thinking about the past week, the last week

Hands go in my pocket, I can’t speak

Hopped in the car and torpe’ed to the shack

Of Shaheed, “We gotta go back”

when he said “Why?” I said, “We gotta go

‘Cause I left my wallet in El Segundo

“Yeah, I left my wallet in El Segundo

Left my wallet in El Segundo

Left my wallet in El Segundo

I gotta get, I got-got ta get it

the title of the article is “Poll: Nation split on Bush as uniter or divider”

or maybe its not CNN that’s retarded, it’s just the motherfuckers who still view Bush as a “uniter?”



http://www.cnn.com/2005/ALLPOLITICS/01/19/poll/index.html

wow, okay. I guess Hersh is full of shit. the DoD denied his wild and totally out of the question claim. he must be one horrible journalist to be so wrong.

http://www.dod.mil/releases/2005/nr20050117-1987.html

so far, in terms of huge fucking news stories (Watergate and Abu Ghraib), Seymour Hersh is two for two. I’m okay with giving him the benefit of the doubt ahead of time.



http://www.newyorker.com/fact/content/?050124fa_fact



totally favorite excerpt:

In my interviews, I was repeatedly told that the next strategic target was Iran. “Everyone is saying, ‘You can’t be serious about targeting Iran. Look at Iraq,’” the former intelligence official told me. “But they say, ‘We’ve got some lessons learned—not militarily, but how we did it politically. We’re not going to rely on agency pissants.’ No loose ends, and that’s why the C.I.A. is out of there.”



cause in the end, you know, it’s politics that really matters. human cost? blahbitty blah blah blah. we got terrorism to stop.



see, the Department of Defense is consolidating power from the CIA concerning covert operations and streamlining its activities. that way they don’t have to deal with all that sticky “congressional oversight” bullshit. now they can prepare a battlefield wherever they like! so get ready, Tehran, you bunch of pansies! guess who’s coming to town!