Happypoet.com

I woke up early Sunday morning to the honking of cars rushing by the inn. I took a quick shower (in the dark) and went downstairs to Nanna’s Treats, a little breakfast nook below the inn. After David woke, we made preparations to find the Theatre, where Hairspray was playing. Clai gave us his ticket to the show before we left. David wanted to sell the tickets, but I was worried about causing trouble and really didnt relish the idea of seeing a New York Police Station. First we tried to find a place to eat. We walked down to a Wendey’s David had found on Broadway near NYU. He picked up a subway map, and we plotted how we would get over to the Theatre. After eating, we walked to the subway entrance. The entire time since I had arrived in New York I was frantic with worry that we would be victims of some horrible crime. I knew we looked like tourists walking around without a clue of what could happen to us. Compound this fear with my fear of death by mechanical means kept me shaking the entire journey from Beeder street to 34th ave. We emerged from the subways to a bustling 34th ave. The street was manic with people. We started walking east and stumbled across a large street fair. (We realized later that all of Manhattan had had street fairs along various stretches of the roads throughout.) It was strange to be walking amoungst the booths with Skyscrappers as the backdrop. David picked up something for Mary, and I found a belt to replace the one I forgot to bring. After enjoying the fair, we starting looking for the Theatre again, only to realize we were on the wrong side (it was on West and we were on East.) Finally we found the location, but we had an 1hr to kill, so we walked a few blocks to find Times Square.
How to describe Time Square? Overstimulation does not do it justice. Times Square is Manhattan on Speed and Ectasy. People everywhere, Flashing, Pulsing Signs everywhere, car horns, singers, carribean bands, subway trains all the sounds converging on one single triangle. Its the closest to chaos I have witness.
Hairspray was quite exciting. The cast was marvelous. I even believe David enjoyed it until he realized I knew, then he denounced the show numerous times.

more to come . . .

As David peered out of the window amazed as the buildings grew bigger and the ants became people. An image caught my eye, that of a graveyard increasing in size until the gravestones filled the entire view out the airplane’s window.
I was nervous with anticipation. wonder what would happen. my mind was filled with scenes from movies and television shows depicting New York as a sewer of crime and filth. The plane landed and we went to retrieve our bags. Strangely enough they had arrived before the plane had. We gather them and walked over to the Transit desk and reserved a spot with the shuttle. The van driver arrived 30mins later and motioned for us to come with him. This was our first glimpse of a New York citizen. He was impatient and rude to everyone except the ones under his care. He sped from airline to airline gathering people until the van was full, then rushed to Manhattan honking and swirving between lanes. Later I mapped out where he had went and realized we had been given a quick tour of the island. He had driven through the garment district, central park, down broadway, along the fdr, and through many of the various side streets. 2 hours later we arrived at our hotel, Chelsea Inn.
We were informed upon our arrival that power was lost to the bathroom we shared with another room. It was quite interesting since the bathroom had no windows. Our room was facing the street in front of the inn, west 17th street. The energy flowing outside the window was intense. The street never rested, if taxis, delivery vans, and police cars were not racing down it, garbage trucks and ambulances were. I realized quickly that this was how the city ran, it never rested. 3 am in the morning only changed the crowd of people walking around outside, business men in the daytime and homeless at night, with college kids all the time.
We walked around most of the night trying to map out our surroundings. I noticed quickly how organized each neighborhood was. One could live only in the few surrounding blocks of their home with little need to go any further away. An example of this was the two Barnes and Nobles on opposite sides of Washington Square. These two buildings were merely 5 blocks from each other, but somehow could manage enough business to remain open. Mcdonald’s were nearly on every street corner. Drug stores every other.

We were exhausted when we finally crashed into our small beds. The window a/c unit purred, but couldnt drown out the noise from the street. I slept with the window shades open. Watching the headlight reflections on the ceiling and the activity through the windows of the neighboring buildings.

Thursday, Clai and I met at 2:30 pm to present our papers to each other. Both of us needed serious work, though Clai could have finished his if he had not got distracted by a curious problem with the use of BECAUSE. Both of us are anxious about presenting. He is worried his wife will be upset, because he will do what he always does, finish it at the las minute while being grumpy. I am worried I will not get it completed in time to present and then stumble over myself as I try to present my ideas.

Friday, I ran around town completing last minute errands before the trip. I needed shoes, a hair cut, money, and toiletries. David had invited the entire family over to his new apartment for dinner (crawfish etoufee). It was interesting to see Mary trying to please my parents as my Father became more relaxed around her, meaning his humour turned to depravity. So after supper, I went home and tried to finish packing. I decided to check my email to find Clai had written to say he had broken his ankle, while playing and wouldnt be able to attend the conference. 2 am in the morning I was still packing when I realized I was suppose to wake up in 2 hours. A quick nap, then back to packing. I had to run over to my parents house to get a hanging clothes bag and return to finish.

I finally arrived at my parents house at 6:00 am ( I was suppose to be there at 5:30am). David and I loaded up Dad’s truck. We (Dad, Mother, David and me) drove to Kenner to the Int’l Airport, where David and I thanked our parents for giving us a ride and said our goodbyes.
At 8:45am, David and I tried to do the curb checkin, but the guard said there was a problem with our tickets. We went inside to find out that we had been rebooked for a 9:10 am flight and that we were late. The ticket agent took our bags and told us to run to the gate. I took off with David behind me and ran to the security check point. I had to remove me shoes and my labtop from my bags to get access to the gates. After walking successfully through the metal detector, I quickly put my shoes on without lacing them, threw my labtop into my bag and started running. We got to the gate gave them our tickets and boarded the plane. Interesingly enough, David noted that an older couple who we had ran past on the way to the plane, had enough time to walk slowly to the plane and board. Strange that we were told to run.

Unfortunately David and I could not sit next to each other. Luckily he was able to sit next to a window, since this was his first flight. We arrived in Atlanta around 10:30am and our next flight was scheduled for 12:30pm. We ate lunch and decided to watch an episode of SFU. After watching the episode, I went to get something to drink, so I could take some excedrin. I returned to find David packing up all of my equipment. We were going to watch another episode, since we had the time, so I was curious as to why he was packing everything up. He showed me the actual time on his phone which indicated we had ten minutes to make it on to the plane. Luckily we didnt need to go through security and we were close to the plane.
We boarded the plane. This time we were able to sit next to each other and I decided to get us some headphones, so we could listen to the “Friends” episode we could only watch last time. As we got closer, I became restless with anticipation. Then it was time for the initial descend.

Folks I now live in the swamp. On a daily basis, I greet the rabbits and other nameless critters. Its strange how comfortable I am now at the house. I thought it would be odd to be sleeping in the room my grandmother called her own for so many years. Maybe I’ve been too busy to think about the strangeness. Lot of patching and fixing around to house that had to be done and more that still needs to be done, but slowly the list is getting shorter. Dad has been a tremendous help. I joked that he would ignore my phone calls if I only called to tell him about another problem. I think the drainage problems was the worst. Nothing matches trying to clean out the houses pipes with a waterhose, plumber’s snake, and your bare hands.
Amanda seems to enjoy the place. Slowly, she is turning the place into a home.

David is moving into an apartment with Mary. I laughed when I read on his website, “Finally I will be on my own not dependent on my parents or my brother.” No one trully takes on the world on their own. Without Amanda, my parents and David, I probably would have given up a long time ago. The world is a harsh place.

Elisabeth has returned from Istanbuhl, Turkey. I admire her spirit, but I doubt she understands the danger. Yet, maybe I also hold a certain amount of her stubborness and ignorance as I try to convince Dad why my desire to go to Japan is not a reckless decision.

As I packed up to move, I decided to clean out old boxes and reduce at least somewhat my girth. I starting remembering friends I had forgotten about or havent given thought to for so long. I regret the mistakes and cruelty I’ve shown to people who allowed me to get close. I wish I could go back and apologize to them, but they are gone. As I was skimming through “The Big Kahuna,” I remember this quote from Phil Cooper, played by Danny Devito, “I’m saying you’ve already done plenty of things to regret, you just don’t know what they are. It’s when you discover them, when you see the folly in something you’ve done, and you wish that you had it do over, but you know you can’t, because it’s too late. So you pick that thing up, and carry it with you to remind you that life goes on, the world will spin without you, you really don’t matter in the end. Then you will gain character, because honesty will reach out from inside and tattoo itself across your face.”

Wilbur

Well Wilbur is working and writing papers and getting ready to move and other mundane bullshit. So where is Wilbur planning on moving? Glad you asked. Im moving into my late grandparents home down in Bancker. Where is Bancker you might ask? Well look on the map, and I mean a really detailed map, find Abbeville, LA. Ok, Abbeville is south of Lafayette, LA and Lafayette is west of Baton Rouge. Ok you found Abbeville, now Go South, no thats perry further east, see that little tiny freakin dot which should be more of a ghost blur well thats Bancker, smack in the middle of swamp land.

The house is a nice house, but hasnt been lived in for at least 5 years. Luckily Mother cleaned it when Grandmother moved out, but then that was awhile ago. It needs work. Not as much as say Aunt Benny’s house, but thats not saying much.

We have to move out of this house by the 30th, and we plan on making the move around the 26th. It should be fun.

Unfotunately, this means I will no longer be living with David, and though we have had rough times, I enjoyed living with him immensely.
David has moved in with Mary for the small amount of time she has left in Baton Rouge. During this time, he will also be working every other week for MI Drilling. This means that I will probably not see David for the rest of the summer (doh forgot I will be spending a week with him in New York City, hehe). He is planning on moving into the Dorms during his last year of school, so he can save money to go see Mary in New York.
I hope him the best.

I have so much work to do and very little will power to do it.

I dont want to work at the Hilton anymore. Ive become weary of its politics. I want to teach.

I am scared about going to Japan or anywhere else. All these countries need is another fat american running around.

I am going to try my best to get in some sort of shape this summer and learn a little japanese and finish writing my thesis and my conference paper and my incomplete and sleep.

Amanda is doing well, though she has hesitations about moving somewhere where the bugs greet you in the morning and the drive is longer than your lunch break.

I hope everyone is doing ok.

Good Luck Michelle your going to need it.
We all will.

Well goodnight for now, I think i will go pretend to get some sleep.

Wilbur

I received my evaluations last week. I had been anticipating them since the end of last year, but by the time they came around, I had completely forgotten about them. In the vain of my regular posts, I will now let them do the talking. Here are the total sum of the opinions of the ones, out of the 56, who thought it was necessary or were compelled to write a comment about my performance or the class in general:

Student A:
Question 13:
The workload for this course in relation to other course of equal credit was:
5- much heavier – “than others taking Engl 101”

Student B:
Question 12:
Compared to other instructors I have had, I rate this instructor:
1- one of the best (amoung the top 10%)
“Prepared us well for the next english and provided an interesting curriculem.”

Student C:
Question 13:
THe workload . . .
4- heavier
“Our class did much more work than other 101 classes. This is a good thing for us b/c we’re actually learning necessary lessons, while the other classes are not learning.”

Student D:
Question 16:
Comments:
“Good Teacher, very fun & informative.”

Student E:
Question 16:
Comments:
“He is very understanding.”

Student F:
Question 12:
Compared to other . . .
1-better than most (amoung the top 30%)
“I had alot of fun in the class.”
Question 13:
The workload . . .
3-about the same
“I always knew when a paper was due.”

Student G:
Question 16:
Comments:
“Loved the class.”

Student H:
Question 16:
Comments:
“I enjoyed this class.”

Student I:
Question 1:
The instructor presented material in an understandable manner . . .
Agree
“I think he did a good job.”

and lastly . . .

Student J:
Question 3:
With this instructor I felt free to ask questions and express opinions . . .
Strongly Agree
“I felt free, but sometimes I felt somewhat inferior.”
Question 16:
Comments:
“God Bless You!”

10 students out of 56 decided they needed to voice their opinions. I wish more had written. It is nice to receive the feedback. There you have it not a single bit of constructive criticism that could help me next time I teach. I would have liked to get a “Great teacher, but . . . ”

Wilbur

with all that is happening in Iraq, with all the video and images being presented to us, I cant help but wonder what we would have seen if the technology of our media was around during WWI?
If anyone could easily videotape anything they wanted, would the images from that war surpass what we are seeing now? would it have made a difference?
will any of these images and video actually make a difference?
sometimes I think it cant because humanity needs the extremes and that scares me.

wilbur

(I think Dr Dorwick was correct. I am not cut out for this. I am seriously considering giving up. I dont seem to be able to meet the demands of academia. I feel like I am just wasting everyone’s time. You were correct if the Wisely was based on actual lack of performance and not popularity, I would win it hands down. I dont want to lead you on for another semester with excuses.)

I am serious, but too many people believe I can do it and I dont want to hurt anyone anymore, which should be my first reason to stop.

Wilbur

(remembering March 20th, 2003)

Our president launched this war with the promise to the Iraqi people of “no more torture chambers and rape rooms. The tyrant will soon be gone.”
Robert Scheer: When We’re the Evildoers in Iraq

Now at least a few U.S. troops and private contractors have been abusing prisoners there, and the symbolism has not been lost on people throughout Iraq–and throughout the Arab and Muslim world.

Some of these photos first appeared on “60 Minutes II” on April 28. Seymour Hersh in the latest issue of The New Yorker elaborates on them. Hersh got a hold of an internal Army investigative report written by Major General Antonio M. Taguba, who cited “sadistic, blatant, and wanton abuses.” Here are some of Taguba’s descriptions of the abuse, as quoted by Hersh: “Breaking chemical lights and pouring the phosphoric liquid on detainees; pouring cold water on naked detainees; beating detainees with a broom handle and a chair; threatening male detainees with rape; allowing a military police guard to stitch the wound of a detainee who was injured after being slammed against the wall in his cell; sodomizing a detainee with a chemical light and perhaps a broom stick, and using military working dogs to frighten and intimidate detainees with threats of attack, and in one instance actually biting a detainee.”

The report also describes several instances of sexual humiliation. One picture, which was widely shown on television though the details were obscured, was of a female soldier “giving a jaunty thumbs-up sign and pointing at the genitals of young Iraqi, who is naked except for a sandbag over his head, as he masturbates.” Other testimony indicated that U.S. soldiers made some of the male Iraqi prisoners simulate oral sex.

Editor Matthew Rothschild comments on the news of the day

The current controversy “is an exception,” [Rumsfeld] said. “The pattern and practice of the Saddam Hussein regime was . . . to murder and torture, and the killing fields are filled with mass graves. And equating the two, I think, is a fundamental misunderstanding of what took place.”
Fred Barbash and Lexie Verdon Rumsfeld Calls Prisoner Abuse ‘Deeply Disturbing’

The U.S. military has investigated the deaths of 25 prisoners held by American forces in Iraq and Afghanistan and determined that two prisoners were murdered by Americans, one an Army soldier and the other a CIA contractor, Army officials said on Tuesday.
U.S. Probe: Two War Prisoners Murdered by Americans

U.S. Marines fired a rocket and dropped a 500lb laser-guided bomb on a mosque compound in the Sunni Moslem city of Fallujah today, killing up to 40 people, according to witnesses.
US Marines Bomb Mosque Compound in Battle with Militants

“I don’t agree that you need an enormous number of American troops.
Saddam’s army is down to one-third than it was before, and I think it
would be a cakewalk.” – Kenneth Adelman, Defense Policy Board, to Wolf
Blitzer on CNN, 12-06-01

“The fact of the matter is that this (increased American casualties) is
a sign of the success of our operation, not its failure.” – Ralph Reed,
GOP strategist, on MSNBC’s program ‘Hardball,’ 10-28-03

“There are some who feel that, you know, the conditions are such that
they can attack us there. My answer is, bring ’em on. We have the force
necessary to deal with the situation.” – George W. Bush, Chicago
Tribune, 07-03-03

“Victory means exit strategy, and it’s important for the President to
explain to us what the exit strategy is.” – George W. Bush, discussing
Kosovo, Houston Chronicle, 04-09-99

“I’m the commander – see, I don’t need to explain – I don’t need to
explain why I say things. That’s the interesting thing about being the
President. Maybe somebody needs to explain to me why they say something,
but I don’t feel like I owe anybody an explanation.” – George W. Bush,
Washington Post, 11-19-02

“Why should we hear about body bags and deaths and how many, what day
it’s gonna happen? It’s not relevant. So why should I waste my beautiful
mind on something like that?” – Barbara Bush, said on ‘Good Morning
America’ the day before the Iraq War started, New York Times, 01-13-03

Sometimes you dont need to say anything to prove a point.

Wilbur

Out of all the professors Ive met at UL, there are only a few that I would care to keep in touch with after I am finished with my MA Thesis.

Ian Kinsella: Instructor of courses based in English and Humanities, though mainly Humanities these days. He holds strong beliefs that border the paranoid, insights rebelious teens to strike out against the system, deplores the path the Universities are taking towards a more “job” oriented atmosphere away from the Humanities, reads and has read more books than most Professors I know, and has the uncanny ability to point to a book on his shelf and quote a passage that is not only relevant to the discussion, but encompasses the entire argument. Watch My Dinner with Andre and you will know his cornerstone. (“But I like my electric blanket.”)

Dr. Honneger: Linguist schooled in Formal Theory. He argues that he rides the fence, but in my opinion that fence is placed a few yards off center on the Formalist side. Judges every new idea with a method of imagining the extreme interpretations. If the idea becomes flawed at the extremes, he dismisses the idea.

Dr Christopher Healy: New “kid” on the block, with the same attitude I like to pretend I have. Cocky and maybe a little arrogant, but then he deserves to be having focused his career on dead languages.

Dr James Anderson: Failed me, with good reason, my last undergraduate semester. Not only inspired me to learn grammar and use it(which I am probably not doing now), but also tweak my knowledge about Language. One of the main influences in me attempting to become a Linguist. Despises incompetance, ignorance, and apathy, which is in abundance of the faculty and students in probably most of the world. Unfortunately, he is a Jesuit trained teacher trying to regain his memories of learning and knowledge during a time when speed and entertainment are more important than truth and accuracy.

Dr Claiborne Rice: Amanda says we are two peas in a pod. She might be correct. He like the rest plays devils advocate, except exceedingly well. He has changed my mind on numerous occasions, because I couldnt combat his logic. He enjoys discussing my failings, which there are many, before others and myself. I accept him to be an honest man, which may be a flaw on my part, but he has never hesitated to tell me the truth about my work or ideas. He gave me my first taste of Linguistics. Having entered into college with only the notion that I didnt want to concentrate in something I spent 7 years doing, Literature and Creative Writing, I decided that Linguistics sounded appealing to me. I knew nothing about Linguistics other than it involved Language. I took Cognitive Poetics with him and remained lost throughout most of the class because I couldnt grasp all of the ideas. I had been thrust into an awkward teaparty which I knew no one at and was being forced to carry on like I was good friends with everyone. The only thought which completely took over my mind was that I was in love. The idea that you could throw science screaming its way at literature and watch beautiful things happen intrigued and fueled me. I hope one day I will be considered a Linguist. I hope I never tire his patience of me.

I want to say, “What the hell? Phil, I think your making a big mistake. I think you will not finish your MA degree and will find some crappy minimum wage job you will hate for the rest of your life.” Then I examine my life and realize I am completeling an MA degree, with very little prospects of getting a job which will use it. I am tired of the hoops. Buy a fucking tiger, they gracefully jump through flame, while I singe my skin every stumble.

Landlord gave us until June 30 to move out. She was polite about it. Some family of hers need a place to stay, so we have to find a new house/apartment/leanto. David doesnt want to live with us anymore because he has a strange notion that moving back in with mother and dad is a good thing. I cant go back. I have a crappy job which I hate, which makes me miss my school, I guess Im the only thing making me stay there. I want to teach. I want to sleep at night. I want to eat sushi. I want a change. I want my electric blanket.

I do not know what will happen or where I will be in three months let alone 6. I hope it somewheres nice. I am tired of crap.

I am bankrupt, poor, but I still cant quit my job. I sometimes wish I could be shot, or get crumpled by a car. A moment of agony or terror would put meaning into my life, would allow me to realize whether I care.

I am tired. I have a headache, which I have had for a few years. My mind wants to decay and rot.

Sometimes I wish I lived in a communist society at least I wouldnt have to worry about rent or food.

Wilbur