The Tron Legacy trailer!
With music from non other than Daft Punk.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Monday, March 1, 2010
If Shakespeare Was An Angry, Rachel Madow Watching, Left-Winged, Democrat Who Hated The Tea Party
The T-Bags
by Hector Mendoza
Full of ignorance and hate/
Full of God and faith/
Their faces drenched with hot and salty sweat/
Government involvement? They are not allowing it/
Pickets gulped with angry words and white paint/
Claiming President Obama is an evil saint/
The dry lawns of D.C. are filled with desperation/
With the ones that think the USA is turning into a Communist nation/
Let's not forget Socialist,/
A word guaranteed to get a party member pissed/
Palin supporters and Glenn Beck lovers/
All supported by the Republican halo that hovers/
Let me explain, if you would allow me/
They go by the name of the Tea Party/
It can be considered a sonnet. It has 14 lines.
by Hector Mendoza
Full of ignorance and hate/
Full of God and faith/
Their faces drenched with hot and salty sweat/
Government involvement? They are not allowing it/
Pickets gulped with angry words and white paint/
Claiming President Obama is an evil saint/
The dry lawns of D.C. are filled with desperation/
With the ones that think the USA is turning into a Communist nation/
Let's not forget Socialist,/
A word guaranteed to get a party member pissed/
Palin supporters and Glenn Beck lovers/
All supported by the Republican halo that hovers/
Let me explain, if you would allow me/
They go by the name of the Tea Party/
It can be considered a sonnet. It has 14 lines.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Sex in the Seedy
This past summer I got to watch a great food documentary titled Food, Inc. Like most food documentaries, it's going to show you the nitty gritty of food processing. But there was one part of the movie that intrigued me the most, copyrighted soybeans. Yeah! You read it right! Copyrighted Soybeans. The fascination led me to do some research on the internet. (By the way, that's how most of my internet adventures begin.) While researching I came across these graphs. What the graphs basically show is what company owns what seed.
This one just explains the connections between private brands.
Amazing right? If you would like to see the bigger illustrations just go to this website: https://www.msu.edu/~howardp/organicindustry.html
And to close off, here's a song dedicated to Alex Molina.
This one just explains the connections between private brands.
Amazing right? If you would like to see the bigger illustrations just go to this website: https://www.msu.edu/~howardp/organicindustry.html
And to close off, here's a song dedicated to Alex Molina.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Sneak Peek
Here's the story that VOICES Inc. is going to help me publish. I finished it today.
Home-Cooked Gourmet
By Hector Mendoza
Fine dining. Two words that I have grunted at for most of my life. I thought that only rich, snobby people and cool college graduates went to “fine dining” restaurants. I never fit into any of those categories, so just the simple fact that fine dining has never been accessible to me gave me a reason to dislike it. But I have always loved food, and have always believed that eating fine food shouldn’t mean compromising my eating beliefs: in delicious, satisfying, home cooked meals.
It seems like I’m always hearing chefs on the Food Network say, “My mom used to make this” or “This is my mother’s secret recipe.” So I set out on an experiment to see if I could find any stereotypical “fine dining” chefs in Tucson who also believe that quality doesn’t have to mean giving up your roots.
Recently, I drove to Jax Kitchen to talk to the owner, Brian Metzger, and the chef, Casey McQueen. I was curious: could it true that fine dining can be connected to our mothers’ home-cooked meals?
When I walked in the front door at Jax Kitchen, I immediately spotted Brian juggling orders and polishing glasses behind the bar. Funny, it was an hour before dinnertime and the restaurant was already running at 100 miles per hour. I introduced myself as a young journalist who’s interested in fine dining but who has never met a chef.
I followed Brian into the kitchen where I asked Chef Casey how he expects costumers to react when they dig in into their first bite of food. According to Casey, sometimes things that are simple can intrigue customers the most—dishes that customers are the most familiar seem to be the most enjoyable. “I’ve had applesauce a thousand times, but how do they do this?” Casey mimicked to me. This made sense: when I eat something I’m comfortable with, I’m more able to critique it. Before I went to Jax Kitchen, I didn’t expect that I could stay in my comfort zone and experience something amazing. In Jax Kitchen’s dining room, there was no “oh, it looks so pretty!” Casey doesn’t want customers to remark on the elegance of the applesauce, he wants them to simply taste it. “It’s not rocket science,” Casey says with a smirk.
Brian explains the mission of Jax Kitchen as a place where people can be themselves. “Come dressed as if you’re going to a part at our house,” he says. Thinking back, I was probably a little over-dressed in my tucked-in button-up shirt and slacks. Brian stresses the fact that there is a sense of togetherness in the restaurant, almost as if it were simply a family dinner.
From now on, I’m looking forward to just enjoying any “fine” food I get to eat, rather than worry about how much it cost or feeling guilty about the time it takes to appreciate it. For example, in my family we get to decide wherever we want to go eat for our birthdays. We don’t do presents, we simply get dressed and do what we love, which for us, is eat. For my next birthday, as I await my fancy smoked gouda macaroni and cheese, I’m going to know that I already have everything it requires to appreciate fine dining.
____________________________________
Reading the newspaper with my dad when I was little seemed to pay off. I can consider myself an amateur journalist.
Home-Cooked Gourmet
By Hector Mendoza
Fine dining. Two words that I have grunted at for most of my life. I thought that only rich, snobby people and cool college graduates went to “fine dining” restaurants. I never fit into any of those categories, so just the simple fact that fine dining has never been accessible to me gave me a reason to dislike it. But I have always loved food, and have always believed that eating fine food shouldn’t mean compromising my eating beliefs: in delicious, satisfying, home cooked meals.
It seems like I’m always hearing chefs on the Food Network say, “My mom used to make this” or “This is my mother’s secret recipe.” So I set out on an experiment to see if I could find any stereotypical “fine dining” chefs in Tucson who also believe that quality doesn’t have to mean giving up your roots.
Recently, I drove to Jax Kitchen to talk to the owner, Brian Metzger, and the chef, Casey McQueen. I was curious: could it true that fine dining can be connected to our mothers’ home-cooked meals?
When I walked in the front door at Jax Kitchen, I immediately spotted Brian juggling orders and polishing glasses behind the bar. Funny, it was an hour before dinnertime and the restaurant was already running at 100 miles per hour. I introduced myself as a young journalist who’s interested in fine dining but who has never met a chef.
I followed Brian into the kitchen where I asked Chef Casey how he expects costumers to react when they dig in into their first bite of food. According to Casey, sometimes things that are simple can intrigue customers the most—dishes that customers are the most familiar seem to be the most enjoyable. “I’ve had applesauce a thousand times, but how do they do this?” Casey mimicked to me. This made sense: when I eat something I’m comfortable with, I’m more able to critique it. Before I went to Jax Kitchen, I didn’t expect that I could stay in my comfort zone and experience something amazing. In Jax Kitchen’s dining room, there was no “oh, it looks so pretty!” Casey doesn’t want customers to remark on the elegance of the applesauce, he wants them to simply taste it. “It’s not rocket science,” Casey says with a smirk.
Brian explains the mission of Jax Kitchen as a place where people can be themselves. “Come dressed as if you’re going to a part at our house,” he says. Thinking back, I was probably a little over-dressed in my tucked-in button-up shirt and slacks. Brian stresses the fact that there is a sense of togetherness in the restaurant, almost as if it were simply a family dinner.
From now on, I’m looking forward to just enjoying any “fine” food I get to eat, rather than worry about how much it cost or feeling guilty about the time it takes to appreciate it. For example, in my family we get to decide wherever we want to go eat for our birthdays. We don’t do presents, we simply get dressed and do what we love, which for us, is eat. For my next birthday, as I await my fancy smoked gouda macaroni and cheese, I’m going to know that I already have everything it requires to appreciate fine dining.
____________________________________
Reading the newspaper with my dad when I was little seemed to pay off. I can consider myself an amateur journalist.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Wu-Tang Clan x The Beatles
Many of you know I am the last on person on earth who listens to The Beatles. I have always had this strong hate towards the bowl cut British boys. But, recently a producer by the name of Tom Caruana got a bunch of Wu-Tang Clan (one of my all time favorite hip-hop groups) acapellas and put them over beats consisting of only The Beatles's samples. As they say, "The best from both worlds collided." With only some exceptions, some of the samples are covers of The Beatles song. For example, "Forget Me Not" consists of a sample of a Reggae cover off The Beatles's song "You Won't See Me". As much as I hate The Beatles, I have to say, they do make great candidates for samples. And although this album is being only seen as a mixtape it is making itself known like an album, kind of like when DJ Dangermouse's got Jay-Z's acapellas off "The Black Album" and made "The Grey Album". If you have not heard "The Grey Album" consult with me, it is also amazing, and I will get a copy for you. Due to legal issue, the album is also for free! Go to this website, sign up, download, and enjoy.
http://www.teasearecords.net/wuvsbeatles.cfm
Thanks to Ben Truman for telling me about the album.
Got you interested? Here is the website to the Zinburger joint I've been recently telling you guys about. They got beat out by Lindy's this year for "Best Burger in Tucson". But they have won the last two years.
http://www.foxrc.com/zinburger.html
Monday, January 25, 2010
Aha! I Finally Have A Dream!
This Friday the 22nd was Conan O'Brien's last episode on the Tonight Show. If you keep up with the news you may know why. If you do not, blame it on the evil chin. Towards the ending, before the epic performance of "Free Bird" with Will Ferrell, Conan said a few final words of seriousness. Here's the video:
During the 4 or so minutes of his speech I felt like I was any other viewer. But as he started to get emotional when he was explaining his appreciation to all the support we the viewers have given him, that is when I started listening to his words in a different perspective. I did not know me staying up late on school nights to watch the show, joining a facebook group called "I'm with Coco", and swaring off Jay Leno for the rest of my life could mean so much. Towards the end of the 4 minutes I really took his words seriously. My mom always told me cynicism was not a good quality to have. I saw that she was not the only one to think the same way.
When the show was over and The Jimmy Fallon Show (a person I have very mixed feelings about) started I got online and did some research on Conan. I have always known he was a screen writer for Saturday Night Live and The Simpsons but I never knew at what extend. Turns out the he has written some of my most favorite episodes of The Simpsons, including "Marge and the Monorail". I started thinking to myself. Who has been there for me all of my young years? No, not Conan O'Brien. Television! Television Shows! The Simpsons, That 70's Show, Friends, Arrested Development, The Office, Family Guy, Futurama, King of the Hill, South Park, and many more. I have spent more time watching t.v. than I have interacted with humans. A television screenwriter, such as Conan, does a lot of, you guessed it, writing! I like writing! While researching a lot of famous screenwriters (i.e.- BJ Novak and Simon Rich) I saw that they always seemed to major in something around English or Literature. I want to major in something in English or Literature! Since I was young I have always loved to tell funny stories and as a high schooler I love to re-enact dramatic moments in movies and quote my favorite television shows.
Ladies and gents, my dream from now on is to be a television screenwriter!
But not before my dream of singing next to Lionel Richie one day.
To sign off, I give to you an article off the Harvard Lampoon Mr. Conan O'Brien wrote in 1985:
The Naked and the Well Read
When the order came to take Hill 19 the Sergeant ground his cigar stub into the fine white sand of Tojaida Island and bared his corn-yellow teeth. “Not that it’s ours to take,” he said, rubbing his thick, calloused hand over the stubble of his square jaw. “You mugs understand we have no property right in the hill, or any moral claim to the area it encompasses.” He shifted his packed, hard body and spat into an overturn C-ration can.
“But is it correct, from an ethical standpoint, to allow physical force to be the deciding factor in disagreements between nations? What would Thoreau say?” It was Dough-Boy, the freckle-faced infantryman with the crooked, midwestern smile and innocent grey eyes that blinked whenever you poured pencil-shavings in them.
“Difficult to say,” the Sergeant replied, pulling a cigar stub from its wrapper. “Kant would subscribe to the deontological theory of moral imperatives.”
“Check!” interrupted Grease-Monkey, the cherub-faced mechanic and former professor of Linguistics at Cornell. “He’d want us to examine our motives in a neutral environment, not the biased circumstances of war.”
Bull, resting his muscle-bloated body on a rusted oil drum, had been shoved to the breaking point. His broad, featureless face exploded in fury as he jumped to his feet. “Talk, talk, talk … all we do is talk. Me want to clobber the enemy, not talk!” As he worked his massive mandibles the others rolled their eyes.
“Reminds me a little of Benjy, the simple-minded Christ figure in Faulkner’s The Sound and Fury,” muttered Stir-Fry, the platoon chef.
“Philistine,” said Germ-Jockey, the seasoned medic.
“Leave ‘im alone,” ordered the Sergeant. There was a long, embarrassed silence as the rage melted from Bull’s boulder-like head. “Hey, like … like me sorry me got mad,” he grumbled, like a friendly grizzly bear endowed with the miracle of human speech. “It’s just dat I didn’t do the readin’ this week.”
The platoon burst into gentle laughter as the Sergeant gave Bull a manly but affectionate kick in the head. “Hell, that all? Jesus, Bull, you can catch up. It’s only eighty pages of Flaubert and we’ll help you with the French.” The Sergeant’s words stretched a broad, moronic smile across Bull’s acre-wide face and helped the platoon temporarily forget the horrors of jungle war.
“Alright … alright,” shouted the Sergeant, shouldering his book bag, “load up and remember … no shooting. We have a moral obligation to preserve all life, regardless of the demands placed on us by an arbitrary government.”
“Even if they shoot at us first, Sarge?” asked Slim-Jim, the munitions expert and beef jerky magnate, as he unloaded his rifle. “I mean, some interpret Ghandi’s later writings as …” The Sergeant interrupted his discourse with a powerful right to the solar plexus. “I’m not takin’ any revisionist up the hill with me,” he added, turning his back on Slim-Jim’s wheezing form, “so you can sit here and stew while we’re gone.”
At the call to “fall out,” the small platoon lined up and began its rigorous but sensitive trek through the dense jungle.
-Conan O'Brien '85
During the 4 or so minutes of his speech I felt like I was any other viewer. But as he started to get emotional when he was explaining his appreciation to all the support we the viewers have given him, that is when I started listening to his words in a different perspective. I did not know me staying up late on school nights to watch the show, joining a facebook group called "I'm with Coco", and swaring off Jay Leno for the rest of my life could mean so much. Towards the end of the 4 minutes I really took his words seriously. My mom always told me cynicism was not a good quality to have. I saw that she was not the only one to think the same way.
When the show was over and The Jimmy Fallon Show (a person I have very mixed feelings about) started I got online and did some research on Conan. I have always known he was a screen writer for Saturday Night Live and The Simpsons but I never knew at what extend. Turns out the he has written some of my most favorite episodes of The Simpsons, including "Marge and the Monorail". I started thinking to myself. Who has been there for me all of my young years? No, not Conan O'Brien. Television! Television Shows! The Simpsons, That 70's Show, Friends, Arrested Development, The Office, Family Guy, Futurama, King of the Hill, South Park, and many more. I have spent more time watching t.v. than I have interacted with humans. A television screenwriter, such as Conan, does a lot of, you guessed it, writing! I like writing! While researching a lot of famous screenwriters (i.e.- BJ Novak and Simon Rich) I saw that they always seemed to major in something around English or Literature. I want to major in something in English or Literature! Since I was young I have always loved to tell funny stories and as a high schooler I love to re-enact dramatic moments in movies and quote my favorite television shows.
Ladies and gents, my dream from now on is to be a television screenwriter!
But not before my dream of singing next to Lionel Richie one day.
To sign off, I give to you an article off the Harvard Lampoon Mr. Conan O'Brien wrote in 1985:
The Naked and the Well Read
When the order came to take Hill 19 the Sergeant ground his cigar stub into the fine white sand of Tojaida Island and bared his corn-yellow teeth. “Not that it’s ours to take,” he said, rubbing his thick, calloused hand over the stubble of his square jaw. “You mugs understand we have no property right in the hill, or any moral claim to the area it encompasses.” He shifted his packed, hard body and spat into an overturn C-ration can.
“But is it correct, from an ethical standpoint, to allow physical force to be the deciding factor in disagreements between nations? What would Thoreau say?” It was Dough-Boy, the freckle-faced infantryman with the crooked, midwestern smile and innocent grey eyes that blinked whenever you poured pencil-shavings in them.
“Difficult to say,” the Sergeant replied, pulling a cigar stub from its wrapper. “Kant would subscribe to the deontological theory of moral imperatives.”
“Check!” interrupted Grease-Monkey, the cherub-faced mechanic and former professor of Linguistics at Cornell. “He’d want us to examine our motives in a neutral environment, not the biased circumstances of war.”
Bull, resting his muscle-bloated body on a rusted oil drum, had been shoved to the breaking point. His broad, featureless face exploded in fury as he jumped to his feet. “Talk, talk, talk … all we do is talk. Me want to clobber the enemy, not talk!” As he worked his massive mandibles the others rolled their eyes.
“Reminds me a little of Benjy, the simple-minded Christ figure in Faulkner’s The Sound and Fury,” muttered Stir-Fry, the platoon chef.
“Philistine,” said Germ-Jockey, the seasoned medic.
“Leave ‘im alone,” ordered the Sergeant. There was a long, embarrassed silence as the rage melted from Bull’s boulder-like head. “Hey, like … like me sorry me got mad,” he grumbled, like a friendly grizzly bear endowed with the miracle of human speech. “It’s just dat I didn’t do the readin’ this week.”
The platoon burst into gentle laughter as the Sergeant gave Bull a manly but affectionate kick in the head. “Hell, that all? Jesus, Bull, you can catch up. It’s only eighty pages of Flaubert and we’ll help you with the French.” The Sergeant’s words stretched a broad, moronic smile across Bull’s acre-wide face and helped the platoon temporarily forget the horrors of jungle war.
“Alright … alright,” shouted the Sergeant, shouldering his book bag, “load up and remember … no shooting. We have a moral obligation to preserve all life, regardless of the demands placed on us by an arbitrary government.”
“Even if they shoot at us first, Sarge?” asked Slim-Jim, the munitions expert and beef jerky magnate, as he unloaded his rifle. “I mean, some interpret Ghandi’s later writings as …” The Sergeant interrupted his discourse with a powerful right to the solar plexus. “I’m not takin’ any revisionist up the hill with me,” he added, turning his back on Slim-Jim’s wheezing form, “so you can sit here and stew while we’re gone.”
At the call to “fall out,” the small platoon lined up and began its rigorous but sensitive trek through the dense jungle.
-Conan O'Brien '85
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Beatiful Day In Music
I got to listen to Radiohead's discography and Sade released her video for "Soldier of Love" today. Check it out for yourself:
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Ivy League Material?
Today's start was unusual for my Saturday mornings. Usually, I sleep in and delight myself to a nice serving of cereal. This morning I woke up, got dressed, and headed to Herff Jones grad supply store to get my cap and gown (Which I was suppose to order a long time ago). There was maybe a good 5 parties in the little store. I noticed I was not the only one just getting the cap and gown. But there was one party in particular that was sure taking a long time. Listening to their business (it is not wrong when it is for research) I saw that they were ordering their daughter everything! From the class pen, to the class ring, to 150 invitations! They were the only un-minority party in the store. The case made me think about how important America takes education. Mainly the ethnicity with the highest population (I do not want to name any ethnic names). I have heard of cases of saving up to $50,000 for each child of the family for college tuition. Of course I have heard this from the people that employ my dad, un-minorities. Today I found out my families tax report for 2008 was only $19,000. For them the question is not if you are going to college, it is what college your going to. For me, a life of education simply seems right. When I asked my parents today if I we have $10,000 so I can attend a Summer English Program at Harvard they simply said, "We do not have the money." Luckily, Harvard does have financial aid for the summer program but when my parents first told me it did not seem like much. When I went back into my room I realized how much you can be restrained because of money, or simply in what position you take in the social hierarchy. My dad is blue collar/working class man that has to break a sweat or two to bring home the pork and my mom is unemployed. I go to a school that gets replies with a face of discuss when someone says its name. I come from a side of town that has been voted a couple times as one of the most dangerous areas in America. Boo f*****g Hoo. I am not even letting that restrict me and I got the brains but I still can not attend a summer program at Harvard. I guess I am not Ivy League material. But do not get me wrong, I am still going to try to apply. Leaving the store me and my dad headed to Jerry Bobs on Broadway. Instead of cereal I had eggs, ham, and biscuits with gravy for breakfast on a Saturday. The man sitting next to us was reading a book while eating his breakfast. My dad asked me why people take their time to read a book when there so many other things to do. Unusual for him to say that because my dad is an avid reader (the newspaper and the bible mainly). I explained to him that in coffee houses and cafes it is excepted to read a book or stay for a good couple of hours and ,of course, that it is always nice to read a book every once in a while. That lead to him asking me why I want to study English. I explained myself. He rebutted by saying I would not make any money. I explained myself. He still did not get me. I guess in order to be Ivy League Material I am going to take it into my own hands, like everything in life. Only if I was asian, rich, or lives in the suburbs of Connecticut with a Ivy League alumni father that is a lawyer. I will maybe be a douchbag, but only if.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
No Such Thing As 5 out of 5 in the 21st Century
Or ever in my case...
I discussed inner conflicts in my other blog "The Conscience of the Devil(?)". In my head, I was having a debate if whether I should eat a donut. The little angel was saying "No, don't eat it" and the devil was saying "Yes, eat it". If I should eat the donut or not is the inner conflict that was going on. Well, to relate to the topic of the title I am going to discuss the inner conflicts between ones artistic side and ones logical side. Let's make this a scenario. I am 24 years old living in New York. Going to school and majoring in Economics by day, inspiring musician by night. A friend, an artist, invites me to his art gallery's opening. Without thinking about it I agree on going. He informs me that he will be displaying a rare sculpture by Rowland Ward of "Sally" the Chimpanzee estimated to be worth around $90,000. Here is a picture of it.
I go to my shaggy apartment, put on a clean shirt, and make way to the art gallery. Upon arriving I see there is an open espresso bar. I am liking it already. My friend spots me and gives me a brochure of the art that is displayed. I am fascinated by the art by I just could not stop thinking about the utility and fix costs that my friend is having to pay for the location. Ignoring the thought I start walking around and noticing the displays. A little bit of abstract art here and there by college students, vulnerable marble sculptures on every corner, and a bit of sheekness with the wood floors. I notice people noticing a certain display. "It must be the chimpanzee sculpture" I tell myself. I go and take a look for myself. At first view my artistic side got first impressions. The care and precision that must have gone on in creating the sculpture could have only been done by the most creative hand. The rustic colors complemented the serenity and peacefulness that the sculpture gives. As soon as I knew it, my logical/anal side bumps in. The sculpture seems to be made of plaster. Being that it is not made of marble or some sort of stone its value must have gone down. And by the way, isn't this an art gallery? It did not say anywhere in the brochure "Sculpture Gallery" If I wanted to look at sculptures I could have just gone to the museum. I snap out of it and go home early, mainly because I wanted to make it in time for The Late Show with Conan O'Brien.
Personally, I have been going through this struggle for some time. The artistic side finding wrong in nothing while the logical/anal side criticizes everything. When it comes to reviewing a song, album, movie, t.v. show, restaurant, etc there is no such thing to a 5/5, 100/100, 5 Star, 2 Thumbs Up, etc. Even though you do see them around they are not true. Like in life, there is always something wrong with the factor. For example, I absolutely love The Office (as much of you already know). But there are times where the certain episode seems to be going very slow for me. Another example, I consider Daft Punk's Discovery one of my all time favorite albums. But there are still a couple of tracks I have skipped since I first listened to it. You can make something to be 5/5 but I promise you will find something wrong with it. To the littlest molecule. That is just life. But I do not really mind it. Conflicting between two opposite things makes ones self a more open-minded person. There is nothing wrong with that.
I discussed inner conflicts in my other blog "The Conscience of the Devil(?)". In my head, I was having a debate if whether I should eat a donut. The little angel was saying "No, don't eat it" and the devil was saying "Yes, eat it". If I should eat the donut or not is the inner conflict that was going on. Well, to relate to the topic of the title I am going to discuss the inner conflicts between ones artistic side and ones logical side. Let's make this a scenario. I am 24 years old living in New York. Going to school and majoring in Economics by day, inspiring musician by night. A friend, an artist, invites me to his art gallery's opening. Without thinking about it I agree on going. He informs me that he will be displaying a rare sculpture by Rowland Ward of "Sally" the Chimpanzee estimated to be worth around $90,000. Here is a picture of it.
I go to my shaggy apartment, put on a clean shirt, and make way to the art gallery. Upon arriving I see there is an open espresso bar. I am liking it already. My friend spots me and gives me a brochure of the art that is displayed. I am fascinated by the art by I just could not stop thinking about the utility and fix costs that my friend is having to pay for the location. Ignoring the thought I start walking around and noticing the displays. A little bit of abstract art here and there by college students, vulnerable marble sculptures on every corner, and a bit of sheekness with the wood floors. I notice people noticing a certain display. "It must be the chimpanzee sculpture" I tell myself. I go and take a look for myself. At first view my artistic side got first impressions. The care and precision that must have gone on in creating the sculpture could have only been done by the most creative hand. The rustic colors complemented the serenity and peacefulness that the sculpture gives. As soon as I knew it, my logical/anal side bumps in. The sculpture seems to be made of plaster. Being that it is not made of marble or some sort of stone its value must have gone down. And by the way, isn't this an art gallery? It did not say anywhere in the brochure "Sculpture Gallery" If I wanted to look at sculptures I could have just gone to the museum. I snap out of it and go home early, mainly because I wanted to make it in time for The Late Show with Conan O'Brien.
Personally, I have been going through this struggle for some time. The artistic side finding wrong in nothing while the logical/anal side criticizes everything. When it comes to reviewing a song, album, movie, t.v. show, restaurant, etc there is no such thing to a 5/5, 100/100, 5 Star, 2 Thumbs Up, etc. Even though you do see them around they are not true. Like in life, there is always something wrong with the factor. For example, I absolutely love The Office (as much of you already know). But there are times where the certain episode seems to be going very slow for me. Another example, I consider Daft Punk's Discovery one of my all time favorite albums. But there are still a couple of tracks I have skipped since I first listened to it. You can make something to be 5/5 but I promise you will find something wrong with it. To the littlest molecule. That is just life. But I do not really mind it. Conflicting between two opposite things makes ones self a more open-minded person. There is nothing wrong with that.
Monday, January 4, 2010
TV Show of the Year
You guessed it and you are right. The Office.
2009 gave us season 5 and half of season 6. Season 5 gave us the episode Time magazine named #1 for 2009, "Stress Relief". It was also the episode that came after the Super Bowl. If you do not remember it I suggest you look for it online. And season 6 gave us Jim and Pam's long awaited wedding. I may have cried on this episode, I do not remember. Here are some pictures.
It was an episode that proved the simpleness that love and weddings are based on.
Worthy Contenders-
Any food/travel shows on the Food Channel or Travel Channel
Duds-
The Cleavland Show
At first I thought there was hope and then...there was no hope at all.
Drink of the Year
Iced Coffee
No. Not a Caramel Frappuccino. (Quick fact. Did you know Starbucks has actually trademarked the term "Frappuccino". That is why when you go to your local cafe the "Frappuccino" looking drinks are usually called shakes or icees, not "Frappuccino".) Not a Caffé Latte. And no, not a white chocolate mocha latte with soy milk and extra foam. (Although I do treat myself to a cup once in a while.) Just a plain o' cup of iced coffee. For my preference I always add three packets of Splenda with 1/8th of the cup amount of Half & Half. Always comes out just right, just like the picture on top. During my time at VOICES Inc. (http://www.voicesinc.org/) the fuel that the Splenda filled iced coffee gave became a need. But then again, that is what coffee is meant to do. Fuel ya' up.
And since we are on the subject of coffee, here is a nice diagram to help you out of your next coffee purchase.
Guilty Pleasure of the Year
2 for ¢99 Tacos from Jack In The Box
Even though the ground beef is a mysterious orange and the lettuce always resembles my grandmas hair, you cannot put this tacos aside (Well, at least I can't). That is why 2 for ¢99 Tacos from Jack In The Box are my guilty pleasures of the year.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
