tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-101879272011-11-30T10:25:44.432-06:00Being a burning heretic doesn't mean being wrong or losing a life.Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.comBlogger751100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1135574636018223192005-12-25T23:11:00.000-06:002005-12-25T23:23:56.036-06:00

So Vis has smoked me to brokedness, bastard nicotine addict that he is ... It's alright ... I love him anyway.So, poetically, I recently went into a very short tangent, in which the point of each poem was to create as much of a bad taste in the reader's mouth as possible ... no, I'm not kidding. I want the poetry to be vivid, to hold the reader's attention with the twisted, vicious passion ...

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1134599552835728802005-12-14T16:26:00.000-06:002005-12-14T16:32:32.850-06:00

The Sexual post. I'm going to countervent it by not discussing sex. Much.So I've discovered the proper name for an alter-ego. Azar, you were fun, but this name, and his accompanying person, is much more my kinda chap: Visotsky. If you don't know who that is, shame on you ... now go read this. It's necessary to know Visotsky by name if not by music if you wanna join the human race any time soon.

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1132444786960138562005-11-19T17:43:00.000-06:002005-11-19T17:59:46.980-06:00

You know what's remarkable? I started the feeble forum in January, and somehow it's still struggling along ... I mean, I don't think I have as much commitment to girls! Of course, that's mostly because very few girls would be so stupid as to want to get into one of those commitment-type things with me. Go them. Boo me. Anyway ... I have a really depressing list of facts:-cell phone bill:

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1131343082503736982005-11-06T23:26:00.000-06:002005-11-06T23:58:52.426-06:00

The post that's one number above the satanic one. I feel like another deeply sarcastic yeeha! It's the commercially used percentage that represents 2/3. Again, whoopee. God, I'm pathetic. pathetic-er than him.Anyway ... surprisingly, my poetry output has reached an all-time high, with 3 poems in a single month. Of course, true to the glorious ironies of poetic justice, everything I've written is,

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1128835729403101572005-10-09T00:20:00.000-05:002005-10-09T00:28:49.410-05:00

Wow ... post number 66. One more and I'd be really satanic. Ah well. I'm glad I'm already two thirds of the way there. only 634 posts to go!I notice that my updates have been both puny and quite sparse. I formally apologize,but I haven't really had the inclination to write. Now, all of a sudden, the urge has returned.The good thing is that my poetry output has been pretty good ... I came up with

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1127693854717034982005-09-25T19:16:00.000-05:002005-09-25T19:17:34.726-05:00

Financial problems are becoming a real concern now.How fascinating.Azabluntsky drunkenly waves hello.

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1127018708757743852005-09-17T23:42:00.000-05:002005-09-17T23:45:08.766-05:00

Lawdy mih Lawd. It's definitely been a verr' verr' long time since I've updated. A few things have changed. For example, my parents found out about my friendship with m'home boy Felix, which through them into various levels of conniption. Fun fun. School is soon to start, and I'm taking such delightful classes as Italian (Wopish), European Civilization (Barbarians, Inc.), and Israeli/Arab

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1125718228049162302005-09-02T22:26:00.000-05:002005-09-02T22:30:28.056-05:00

It's been a month since I've posted. Its remarkable how little there is to say for the last month ... a lot of things have happened, but I don't think they're interesting or especially influential. Here's a short list:-Felix moves to new apartment, closer to my own place.-Mother moves to Harvard two days ago, leaving me, strangely, with a complete lack of closure on an utterly insane, cruel,

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1122909107293870882005-08-01T10:05:00.000-05:002005-08-01T10:23:47.043-05:00

Yes, it's been a while ... but much interesting stuff has happened, and is happening in the following few days. Among said things is the disappearance of She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed (mother), for a conference in the manufacturing town of Sheffield, England. No, not Sherwood, the famed haunt of Robin of Locksley. Sorry, all you people whose ears pricked up at "Sher" (and no, that's not CHER, Felix).

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1122434106226587172005-07-26T22:14:00.000-05:002005-07-26T22:15:06.233-05:00

I really don't feel like writing right now. We'll see how I am in the morning.

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1122153225104867602005-07-23T15:48:00.000-05:002005-07-23T16:13:45.110-05:00

I'm starting to think of every ten posts as some kind of achievement. Does my large readership believe that its a bad sign for my blog when I treat every ten posts as something that deserves accolade? I think so. Means I'm not as obssessive about writing as I thought I was ... as I wish I was. However, even though I'm dismayed with the quantity (let alone the quality) of the writing in the feeble

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1122090722585989912005-07-22T22:42:00.000-05:002005-07-22T22:52:02.590-05:00

So, this is just a quick check-up. The viola is going fine, I've got a thing coming up on the 20th of August for Felix and friends, and I'm studying Hindemith hell-bent for leather (is that the proper expression) so that I don't make a fool of myself in front of some of Chicago's most important musicians. No, really, I shit you not.As a general rule, I'm a-happy with my life. Ella Leya and the

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1121736237103661222005-07-18T19:57:00.000-05:002005-07-18T20:23:57.110-05:00

So, Felix and I have decided to start printing a magazine, which is supposed to be called (and yes, it's my idea): The Stained Sheet.I think this should be a successful magazine, especially since we're actually capable writers, and we have some actual knowledge as to a successful plan. I'm seriously wondering whether or not this is going to be the project I had in mind, but to be quite honest,

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1121649588207462622005-07-17T20:03:00.000-05:002005-07-18T20:55:05.126-05:00

Many things have happened, the most noticeable to my limited readership being the lack of posts in the feeble forum. Of course, this implies that I can't follow through with my pseudo-religious vows regarding blogging, and that our dear friend is way ahead of me regarding posts yet again. Of course, I'm not S O crazy as to treat this as a serious rivalry ... I mean, my god, we're not polynices

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1120839140974764092005-07-08T11:08:00.000-05:002005-07-09T13:53:11.486-05:00

Day two of religious posting on the feeble forum ... and this is a short beginning, which will be added to somewhere about fiveish, and thereby transformed into a full, respectable post. Azar has become acclimated to his new home, and has decided that while it's generally a good place to stick around, there's a lotta bullshit floating in the e-nether. Something to work on. That, or I could just

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1120795252674589032005-07-07T22:32:00.000-05:002005-07-09T13:53:30.083-05:00

There are several issues to be discussed today, and resolutions and solutions to be discovered in the course of my fingers' traverse across the lonely mountains and valleys of this Dell QuietKey dingus attached to the computer. These issues are not at all important, vital, and/or fundamental to life as we know it unless you are one Nick Naroditski, a Russian Jew who, one might say, can play the

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1119751951964315392005-06-25T21:10:00.000-05:002005-06-25T21:12:31.966-05:00

I'd like to introduce you to Yevgeny. Treat him as you would treat your own brother. or brotha.

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1118026591147277382005-06-05T21:50:00.000-05:002005-06-05T21:56:31.150-05:00

This is the edit to the post before!My god, I was sitting here, just chilling, using the computer, when this moment of utter happiness hits me. P U R E E U P H O R I A ! ! ! !I don't know why. I guess I realized that I'm completely in love with life, with my life, with lie as it is. It's such a terrible, strange, sometimes spiteful thing. And it's so hard to see that love! But sometimes,

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1118022922298344042005-06-05T20:42:00.000-05:002005-06-05T20:55:22.303-05:00

Anyway, how's stuff beeing going? I'm almost done with school. Literally, two days. Anyway.Wow, I have nothing to say.I just really miss the orange glasses, even if I really just saw them a couple hours ago.

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1117413884925822372005-05-29T19:35:00.000-05:002005-05-29T19:44:44.930-05:00

Wow ... last major paper of the year went in at 11 o'clock, a.m., on Friday, as in two days ago, to probably the greatest T.A. that ever was, a Mr. Shawn Clybor. If you can see that picture, you're lying. There's a reason. Don't go stalking him to ask him to teach your gosh be darned history class. I said NO.Wow. The school year has two more weeks. After that, who knows? Maybe the air, maybe the

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1117147801700083212005-05-26T17:49:00.000-05:002005-05-27T08:42:41.446-05:00

The Holocaust remains, and will most likely remain, one of the most heinous events in history, one that forces every person to examine the plausibility and extent of his humanity. However, this is not sheerly due to the number of people killed in the Holocaust. While six million Jewish lives were claimed in this tragedy, Stalin’s purges and Mao Tse-Tsung’s Great Leap Forward claimed tens of

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1117036784528906542005-05-25T10:56:00.000-05:002005-05-25T10:59:44.526-05:00

Just one more to Big Magic Number 50.Wow. I feel badass. I have enough to say about the life that flow around me that I could fill ALMOST fifty mediocre posts.Whup-tee-fuckin-doo.Anyway, so this week is raping me in the ass ... not surprising. School is being a bitch ... plenty of papers to write ... tests to study for ... aural skills teachers to kil...i mean ingratiate myself to.I've been

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1116792791817894192005-05-22T15:00:00.000-05:002005-05-22T15:13:11.820-05:00

Can this scorched earth hold me?How does the world not fly from its celestialJourney, with every thundering step I take?For though I skulk down the streets, my back bentunder the burden of air, with one painful thrustI'll push my back straight, pull my neck upAgainst the harness of ages, and with my old form,lashed to yellow bones and orange marrow ...I'll totter a few steps, and fall ... for I

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1115606702735464702005-05-08T21:21:00.000-05:002005-05-08T21:51:09.436-05:00

I am not a poet ...Cannot, will not mince with words,and cry over an iamb too many,Not an author,to spend a thousand moments on a phrase,a hundred sunsets on a misplaced syllable.But I, brimming with words, swollen withanother's verse, I walk slowly, heavily,chest puffed out with new, stolen overconfidence,I walk down the street, each foot crossing a hundred feet,like a haughty conqueror, glance

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1115011696257769542005-05-02T00:24:00.000-05:002005-05-02T00:28:16.256-05:00

Hey ... so a lot of things have happened ... I'm somewhat surprised by things around me.Two vital issues: one, i've picked up the following term: "miffed", as in slightly angry but mostly confused. It's a directed verb, as in "i'm miffed at you." two, i've picked up the following expression: "jive", as in, a synonym of cool.I've gotten into hiphop, especially political rap, like a few of

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1113965686885379922005-04-19T21:40:00.000-05:002005-04-19T23:22:56.646-05:00

Writing is such a strange thing. I never know exactly what the hell I'm doing, never understand what the fuck my fingers are trying to say, and what they're trying to say about me, and the world, and lies and truth, and all the other things that I W I S H I could actually talk about.But in a way, writing is just pixels. What am I saying? Nothing. Writing is a lonely, insane, delirious business,

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1113852841792292832005-04-18T14:28:00.000-05:002005-04-18T14:34:01.793-05:00

Yo, this is the full rendition of post 44. Can't just have 3 sentences. So anyway, life has been quite interesting. I might be writing (maybe) in a magazine called the Passenger here at Northwestern. It's almost for certain that I'm involved in a poetry slam with these guys, though I don't know why, since my poetry sucks. If you'd like a sample, click.Anyway, so friends are good, the Pontiff has

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1113798468775089632005-04-17T23:24:00.000-05:002005-04-17T23:27:48.776-05:00

So life is rocking ... I'm listening to Elvis Costello in the room of the venerable and wonderful Jumanji. This is, of course, a wonderful state of being.I have an exam tomorrow, for which I am extravagantly unprepared, and it's probably going to fuck me in the ass the way a donkey would fuck DUI. Oh, whups, sorry, shouldn't have told em about that.Hey, so anyway, apparently our dorm is

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1113249404880014072005-04-11T14:46:00.000-05:002005-04-16T18:06:09.110-05:00

I suppose that life keeps flowing. I'm ina friend's room, I have to make this fast...My birthday was bleeding awesome ... my mom brought me a hookah from Turkey. Ver' ver' flaaah. And other items, including a piece of wonderful art (featuring the schitzophrenic tragedy of a psychadelic umbrella that couldn't handle the harsh flow of counterculture and thence was brought down to a mere rag on the

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1112825576925539902005-04-06T17:01:00.000-05:002005-04-06T17:12:56.926-05:00

Okay, this is going to be real post, rather than just four or five disjointed sentences ...So life is bitching me out like my mother during a family crisis ... that's alright though. I had my first lesson of the quarter. It went off relatively well. The thing about Mr. Vamos that I've noticed whenever I happen to have a lesson with him is that the more bored/tired/laidback he is, the worse

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1112586542135019022005-04-03T22:43:00.000-05:002005-04-03T22:49:02.136-05:00

History of the Holocaust is a wonderful class ... it's blowing my mind, honestly.Ive had 3 concerts in this single weekend...i'm starting to hate my black pants and jacket.I got some clotheses. hoooo-eee!bye.

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1112119416034588442005-03-29T11:55:00.000-06:002005-03-29T12:03:36.036-06:00

Back in my venerable place of higher learning ... moved back into the dorm yesterday, to the smell of slightly over-ripe apples (I'd left some apples there, by accident, over break). Took the first shower of spring quarter, ate the first dining hall meal (mac&cheese, meatloaf), slept the first night of the quarter (actually, I didn't get to sleep easily ... my pillow is WAAAAAY too soft).I could

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1111966717893823402005-03-27T17:24:00.000-06:002005-03-27T17:38:37.896-06:00

Amazing. I didn't write in this thing at all during break. A thousand curses upon my head ! Which reminds me of a great curse I once heard used: May the fleas of a thousand camels infest your erogenous areas! Youch!My parents are safely home from Turkey, where they were visiting Izmir, which by all accounts (second-hand accounts, sadly) is a cool city. Izmir used to be the ancient city Smyrna ...

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1111380405366799922005-03-20T22:39:00.000-06:002005-03-20T22:46:45.366-06:00

Wow...so, I'm on Spring Break, which might become indefinite, depending on the power of my last Freshman Seminar essay and the bitchiness of my frog teacher. What can I say? Oh, yeah, and my parents are in the Land of Thanksgiving. So my house is under my control (operatic Hallelujahs in the background). I feel so tyrannical, so despotic, so.....delightful. I'm gonna BEAT my house down and

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1110780419782343892005-03-13T23:43:00.000-06:002005-03-14T00:06:59.786-06:00

So I wrote a whole post without mentioning my day with Cassady ! He came in on Friday, about 2:30, smoking cigarette after cigarette as is his manner whenever he's over an hour's drive away from his Russian parents. Ironic, actually, since smoking is as Russian as drinking vodka, playing the most intelligent game in the world, and excelling at corruption and music (my favorite graphic for music!)

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1110686052199502862005-03-12T21:36:00.002-06:002005-03-12T21:56:46.200-06:00

As is usually the case, I'm sitting in the library lobby computer lab, next to a beautiful young woman (no, i don't know her, but she's making my day brighter) and allowing the clicks and clacks of the keys under my nimble numbing appendages (no, not that one) to permeate my brain as i search for some stupid shit to write about.As I wait for inspiration, let me describe the young woman sitting at

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1110391780066566582005-03-09T11:52:00.000-06:002005-03-09T12:09:40.076-06:00

So anyway, N.U.C.O. (the chamber ensemble in my beloved institution of "higher" learning), with me in it, performed Mozart's Requiem. Dramatic, huh? To be honest, Requiem actually might have changed my mind about Mozart. That and some of his piano concerti, actually. I still absolutely hate his string stuff. Properly so, actually. It's basically just frippery, trills and virtuosic playing. But

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1109957146646120942005-03-04T11:16:00.000-06:002005-03-04T11:30:44.963-06:00

So, today, again, a very short post, sadly.I'd like to redirect the reader's attention to the F o L l O w I n G. The individual who writes in this web hallmark presents an article written about a certain rapper for whom I have a lot of respect. Again, the interesting thing about this particular article is that it presents this rapper's perspective on a certain incident that naturally matters to

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1109916850280652752005-03-03T23:52:00.001-06:002005-04-16T18:09:07.806-05:00

Okay, one order of business...I think that Felix is the single coolest name ever....obviously because it can be turned into Felix the Cat. So if I ever refer to myself in the third person (and it will happen, when I'm feeling particularly disattached from myself), I'll refer to myself as Felix, just for the implicit statement that I wish I were cooler. Like, cool enough to have friends I could

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1109810884736142662005-03-02T18:39:00.000-06:002005-03-02T18:48:04.736-06:00

Wow....No. 33 already...and I've only had this shitser for about a month. Not too shabby, considering I didn't write in it for almost a whole week.So I've been having a Beatles revival, just a few months or years after the record companies had T H E I R revival and decided to revamp and resell Beatles music (including the bestselling One(1) Album) since they've now approached the age of truly "

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1109526657983949372005-02-27T11:40:00.000-06:002005-04-16T18:10:11.720-05:00

Newsflash~~~While my throat is still on strike, it has declared a few hours' respite from active mobbing and therefore, for the last two hours, I've actually been able to swallow, although not withouot complaints from a couple of the more restless proletariat nerve cells in the trachea/esophagus, producing a tiny amount of pain that is only indicative of more to come when the throat decides to go

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1109349302348010162005-02-25T10:21:00.000-06:002005-04-16T18:10:59.360-05:00

So anyway, life has gotten somewhat....funky since the last time I posted. Not surprising, I'm sure. After all, my life is soooo fascinating.I was talking to Tobs yesterday, at lunch....she was telling me how just about everyone I know should seriously get therapy to make us happier people. I suggested aromatherapy. She smacked me and then beat me in our race to finish our Chipotle burritos. I

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1109121340213335682005-02-22T18:53:00.000-06:002005-02-22T19:15:40.216-06:00

Wow, it's been a while since I've posted in this thing. I guess after my rush of papers, events, etc. I was drained. Add the fact that my throat has decided to revolt and has therefore caused me large amounts of pain and agitation. That throat of mine and its strike even caused me to lose two nights of sleep! And everyone knows that if it weren't for the fact that I'm an insomniac voluntarily,

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1108597255880874932005-02-16T17:09:00.001-06:002005-04-16T18:14:02.313-05:00

Okay, so first of all, Elliott Smith is amazing. I've officially fallen in love with that song, "Oh Well, Okay". What a motherf$@#ing great song. I love the last lines to it: "If you get the feeling/next time you see me/do me a favor/and let me know/cause it's hard to tell/it's hard to say/oh well, okay." That's so T I G H T ! !Anyway. So Jay and I have finally finished our lineup for the band.

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1108318607519308032005-02-13T12:16:00.000-06:002005-04-16T18:14:18.866-05:00

Today is a commemoration for me.Today is the first day in my life...When I can write absolutely nothing.My fingers haven't failed me but my mind is fucked.

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1108238427753191812005-02-12T13:51:00.000-06:002005-02-12T14:00:27.756-06:00

Last night I saw I Heart Huckabees. Great cinematography. Great conceptualization. Of course, the "journey" taken by the three people in the movie are, in my personal opinion, absolute bullshit. It's like taking JackD to a whole new level. People are so busy thinking about themselves, trying to dissect, analyze, and "find answers" to themselves, blah blah blah. Is life meaningless? Is life

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1108168392071999142005-02-11T18:30:00.000-06:002005-02-11T18:33:12.076-06:00

Parents who bring squalling brats to R-rated movies, Militant VegansCircle I LimboCreationistsCircle II Whirling in a Dark & Stormy WindBill GatesCircle III Mud, Rain, Cold, Hail & SnowRednecksCircle IV Rolling WeightsLibertariansCircle V Stuck in Mud, MangledRiver StyxGeneral asshatsCircle VI Buried for EternityRiver PhlegyasAbusive ParentsCircle VII Burning SandsNAMBLA MembersCircle IIX

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1108004699034549292005-02-09T20:36:00.000-06:002005-02-09T21:04:59.033-06:00

I was going to call this Twenty Fourth Post Edit Squared, but I realized there's no hope. That was just a shitty double entry. Anyway, so life is pretty bland right now, dare I say it. Except that I am again writing a paper in one night. Let's hope it goes better than the first two. I'm getting a vibe that it will. Then again, what the hell is a vibe? Anyway....you know what's pretty cool?

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1107914091976946782005-02-08T19:49:00.000-06:002005-02-08T19:54:51.976-06:00

Wow. The last post was only true in that it made a ridiculously obvious statement. It would be like walking up to Pam Anderson and saying "your tits are big." I mean, after slapping you, the only reaction she could have would be "duh". Anyway, I'm listening to great music nowadays. Lots of Elton John and lots of Pink Floyd.

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1107833197967115942005-02-07T21:26:00.000-06:002005-02-07T21:26:37.966-06:00

Wow, life is getting complex.

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1107730182927293242005-02-06T16:33:00.000-06:002005-02-09T21:20:57.136-06:00

Right, so I have a few moments to talk. Or write. I always say talk. I guess because I'm typing fast enough that I could be speaking it. Maybe because my numb, loyal fingers have become my new medium of speech, at least while I'm sitting at the pixels. They're worth more as much as my tongue nowadays, in our Generation Computer Age. So, in a way, I am speaking, except in a more sophisticated way.

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1107725255005902542005-02-06T15:08:00.000-06:002005-02-06T15:27:35.006-06:00

Right, I know I promised not to bring personal strife into the website. And I'm going to break that promise. As a matter of fact, I have a lot to write about, a lot of things have happened recently, but I don't have much time, so I'm just going to address Monsieur Asshole right now. This M. Varaffanculo happens to consider himself a good Israeli and a good Jew, mostly by ranting on a website

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1107623627460109012005-02-05T10:59:00.000-06:002005-02-05T11:17:14.153-06:00

So last night was ... interesting. Cirque de Soleil (another pseudonym) basically blew me off, so that's not cool...but on the up side, a few friends and I had a little alcoholic memorial for Dimebag, the greatest metal guitarist of all time. In other words, we drank beer to Dimebag (which is the way he'd have wanted to be memorialized anyway) and listened to Pantera before heading out to a

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1107395222632575462005-02-02T19:37:00.005-06:002005-04-16T18:24:02.856-05:00

ARGH! I have lost my work ethic! Kassil is going insane right now. He has two papers to turn in on Monday and then on Thursday. One is about the collective moral basis of late Imperial China, and one is on a short story by our old friend Charles RedEye Hawthorne (if you don't get that, read it out loud and use your chow mein noodles....ooooh! China!)Why the fuck is it that I can't sit down and

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1107297179004851162005-02-01T16:26:00.000-06:002005-04-16T18:25:53.106-05:00

I'm so tired, I haven't slept a wink...I'm so tired, my mind is on the blink...I wonder should I get up and fix myself a drink...No,no,no.I'm so tired I don't know what to do...I'm so tired my mind is set on you...I wonder should I call you but I know what you'd do ...You'd say I'm putting you on...But it's no joke, it's doing me harm...You know I can't sleep, I can't stop my brain...You know

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1107224006926099752005-01-31T19:39:00.000-06:002005-01-31T20:18:08.600-06:00

Right...so the first thing I need to do is introduce another member into the world of blog, that being my close friend and intellectual adversary, Cassady. He's a genius....no doubt about it. Right, so you know how I deal with writer's block? I sit on my ass and write....i think some of my worst and simultaneously best text came out when I sat down and just typed random shit that came to my mind

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1107197854844945252005-01-31T11:54:00.000-06:002005-01-31T13:39:15.080-06:00

There's too much to write right now. Okay, so here's what happened: First of all, DUI is still being pissy and talking about the cops. Scriabin and I were at a certain musical function in a certain town in the North Shore, when this particular individual decides to impede on the fun. Thank God I'd already performed the Hindemith and didn't need to hear his half-drunk, thickly accented, absolutely

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1106799345264691632005-01-26T21:39:00.000-06:002005-01-26T22:15:45.266-06:00

For some reason, today I remembered a very irrelevant moment in my life. I was at a grown-up party at the ripe old age of 13, and I was overhearing a conversation about the Beatles between two reasonably distinguished, middle-aged men, obviously carrying pretty affluent jobs. They were going AT each other, almost shouting, regarding which era of the Beatles was better, the early or the late stuff

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1106680750738726862005-01-25T13:09:00.000-06:002005-01-25T13:19:10.736-06:00

So I'm pondering a bit. But not enough to write a real post.....when i have a fully synthesized thought, I'll write it as Seventeenth post, cont.

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1106591263479787702005-01-24T11:48:00.000-06:002005-01-24T19:31:20.473-06:00

Anyway, so life is good in some aspects, like the fact that I totally finished my paper in three hours (am I not a god?) and ditched music theory, which is always a good thing to do. I love learning about these things but I'm completely disinterested in the class. If we just had the course-pack but no class meeting, I'd probably never leave the damn subject alone. Life is bad in that my

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1106528810334661212005-01-23T19:00:00.000-06:002005-01-23T19:06:50.333-06:00

Wow.... this one has a subtitle! That means I'm completely bored. Actually, I'm not quite so much bored as I am trying to stall from continuing this paper that I'm supposed to write about Balzac's short story At the Sign of the Cat and Racket. It's a cool story, and I have to say I like it, but.....i don't know, recently, I've felt like my entire work ethic has gone straight to hell. I can't

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1106488781929795752005-01-23T07:45:00.000-06:002005-01-23T07:59:41.930-06:00

Well, I just stayed up the entire night going to the University of Chicago, hanging out with people I've never met before and absolutely dug the place....the most gone people in the world, basically ostentatiously academic people that know everything about everything, with about a thousand complexes and issues per person. Yeah, and half the people here are Russian. And there's a guy that's caught

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1106373814475129332005-01-21T22:58:00.000-06:002005-01-22T00:38:36.213-06:00

Well, this day has just made my last shitty day a helluva lot worse. I mean, Jesus, why do these days always happen to me? Why does the truth always have to be depressing with me? Jesus Christ, I sound like an emo girl with PMS that just slit her wrists. I'm disgusting myself! So much bitching and moaning! Nick..........must............stop.............bitchn'n'moanin. So anyway, life is taking

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1106248169660752802005-01-20T12:42:00.000-06:002005-01-20T18:18:53.983-06:00

Right, so last night, at the stroke of 12, was the birthday of my dear beat friend, Jon Rozman, popularly known as Jonny Roz (if you don't know what beats are, look it the fuck up immediately). I called at him at 1:09, to congratulate him on being legally registered to fight and vote and get married and smoke (not that he doesn't smoke regardless) legally. What ensued was a discussion that lasted

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1106170339088266282005-01-19T15:21:00.000-06:002005-01-19T15:32:19.090-06:00

So I'm back for more beatings, I guess, like Jackie Chan on amphetamines: shizai! Life's gotten an eensy weensy bit better since yesterday, mostly because I finally got my classes scheduled properly. That way I'm getting class credit for committing mental suicide this quarter. My friends just stare at me in disbelief when I list classes to them, and then start to laugh at me. "You're so gonna

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1106022579062270722005-01-17T22:19:00.000-06:002005-01-21T15:43:42.860-06:00

Well, this was a surreal and terrible day. One of those days I'm gonna wake up tomorrow to and say: that could not have been really my day. Way too shitty...no way. But no, Nick. This was indeed one of those really bad days, and yes it happened. Grandmother went to the hospital. It's hard, too, because I'm basically alone. Old friends that were my crutches when i fell on my knees like this

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1106011611881371772005-01-17T19:16:00.000-06:002005-01-21T15:47:18.916-06:00

No Man can compass a Despair -- As round a Goalless Road No faster than a Mile at once The Traveller proceed -- Unconscious of the Width -- Unconscious that the Sun Be setting on His progress -- So accurate the One At estimating Pain -- Whose own -- has just begun -- His ignorance -- the Angel That pilot Him along -- -Dickinson.

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1105983016517198882005-01-17T11:18:00.000-06:002005-01-17T11:30:16.516-06:00

ARGH! No emails. I still haven't figured out what the devil a red nautilus is (See Third or Fourth Post....can't remember which) and I inadvertently ditched music theory class this morning. It's Martin Luther King Day, and here at Northwestern U, they cancel all classes between 11 and 2 in honor of him. The thing that sucks is that I have classes that go up TO 11, and a class AT 2. I think

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1105948436855853902005-01-17T01:40:00.000-06:002005-01-17T01:53:56.856-06:00

Today (the first two hours of this hopefully gorgeous, stark day), I'd like to discuss a best friend of mine, Jason. He defines some of the things in my life that are the best friend. Jason knows how important the tiny things are in life: When to give a hug, when to crack a dirty joke, when to call for help and when not to call for help. He throws around his money the same way as he throws around

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1105919880677249632005-01-16T17:52:00.000-06:002005-01-16T17:58:00.676-06:00

Right. Depression has set in due to certain circumstances regarding members of the opposite, gentler sex. The problem lies as such. I like a girl. A lot. Like a LOT, a lot. I have no idea whether this is reciprocal. I can see everyone reading this thinking:"Duh, Nick. Welcome to the biggest club in Upper-Middle Class America...." Well fuck all those people that are saying that in their puny

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1105911099591199332005-01-16T17:46:00.000-06:002005-01-16T15:46:38.676-06:00

Right, running the risk of appearing somewhat obssessive-compulsive, I want to write one more post.....why the hell not, right? I mean, I have this nifty little site all to myself, like a cute little dorm room that I can do whatever I want in. So once in a while, I'll have to orgasm up a new post, but that comes later. Right now, I need to make my little dorm room much warmer and more welcoming,

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1105908080707619632005-01-16T15:19:00.000-06:002005-01-16T14:41:20.706-06:00

So anyway, this is Post Number 4. Not Love Potion Number Four. Not Salsa Number Four. Post Number Four. I don't know why I feel obliged to write. Is it because of this goddamned writer's block that I'm trying so desperately to knock down? Tumble down the walls of Jericho? And what is Jericho, really? A city, yes, but also a block imposed by my own brain. Why does the brain create blocks

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1105903714124099012005-01-16T13:09:00.000-06:002005-01-21T15:44:36.690-06:00

Well, I suppose it' time for me to write another post. I'm trying to put up a lot of posts so that people can be impressed by the length and history and prestige of a blog I only started yesterday. I suppose it's alright that I don't have a massive archive and about a million posts, since honestly this thing was started in the middle of a complete punch delirium at 4 in the morning last night (

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1105869025973747662005-01-16T03:40:00.000-06:002005-01-17T11:45:13.860-06:00

The fact of the matter is that I just couldn't wait. You know what it's like? You're sitting at a computer with a friend, talking about prank-calling some ugly prick at 4 in the morning as the American Nazi Party, Homosexual Division (a.k.a. Homos for Hitler), and suddenly, you just GOTTA write. It doesn't matter what or where or when or why....your fingers have to move, glide and skate and

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10187927.post-1105866813520408242005-01-16T03:08:00.000-06:002005-01-16T03:53:32.703-06:00

Well, this is my first post. Apparently, this is the only cool blog space online, so I figured, why the hell not. In fact, this will be my only true blog. My other two blogs started as normal online journals and ended by being a crucible of political propaganda and a poetry repository, respectively. I'm actually spending time on this, so, goddam it, I'm going to stick to my guns this time.

Azarhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02514904607241898916noreply@blogger.com0