God Bless The American Nightmare

Right, so judging by my blog title. I’m sure you know this isn’t going to be a “I love Apple Pie, God bless America, George Washington” type of post.
I’d like to sum up some of the most pivotal moments in my recent life which to me, can clearly be used in a valid argument that the United States of America does not even deserve to call themselves the greatest nation on earth, not even on the top ten.

It starts with the wonderful person at the check-in, who after much debating and bureaucratic tomfoolery, told me that I would not need the Servis papers and that my Visa Issue number was one digit off. Taking this in stride, I thought immigration would be a breeze after, said check-in person who had called the Miami Immigration and they had cleared me without my Servis paper. Granted, Full Sail and the lady at Orlando Int’l said it’d be fine without them.

Well, lo and behold, I was held there. I was held there for 2 hours without the possibility to call Alexandra, who to her credit, persevered in the Baggage Claim without news of me and holding the possibility that the flight to Orlando will be missed. I spent two hours, in an un-air-conditioned room, with many illegals. In the most racially sensitive words I choose, I was the only honkey in a place of coloured. I apologize for it, but I used the terms of a Miami Immigration official. So yes, I was kept in the Immigration until my name was called up and a Immigration Official took me to his office and explained to me that I needed the paper to prove that I knew I paid the fee, which on it’s own right is ridiculous, but once I add these extra words, watch how I wish that the officer was just part of a dream but alas, he said “We can prove you paid the fee, but we still need the paper to prove that you knew you paid the fee.”

Now, seriously, YOU CAN’T LET ME IN BECAUSE YOU WANT ME TO PAY A FEE I WAS FULLY AWARE I NEEDED TO PAY, TO GET A PIECE OF PAPER TO PROVE I PAID SAID FEE, BUT I NEED TO BRING IT EVERYWHERE. AND YOU HAVE MY FINGERPRINTS, PHOTO, PASSPORT SCAN, AND ALL MY DOCUMENTS. AND I STILL JUST NEED TO PROVE I PAID YOU SOME FUCKING MONEY, YOU FUCKING CAPITALIST PIGS.

So, he managed, bless his heart, to give me 30 days to send me documents up to Washington DC and get it fixed. Though, this was after he threatened to oust me of the glorious country of false dreams. So, delighted with this, I took him up with the offer, giving me the chance to get some liquids in me. Yet, there was one obstacle, I needed to get on the plane at 21:30. Guess what time it was, 21:29. Fuming, I left the immigration in a rush, the officials knew I had a connecting flight, yet, they would rather be frightened over a 19 year old British Student than the hundreds of illegals who are crossing the border everyday. The flight was delayed and we managed to get on it. I don’t need to get into detail about any immigration in Orlando, it all went fine as it was a domestic flight.

There’s also more, I learned it takes police 1 hour and 3o minutes to get to the scene of the crime in Orlando. And although, they have somewhat nice manner, I might’ve been dead by the time they were there.

So, God Bless America. I hope that one day, you’ll be a first world country.

Foux Du Fa Fa

Right. I want this statement to get out of the way, Flight of the Conchords was amazing. Yes, I went. I had chills for most of the night. Twas a great night to finish off the Winter to Spring run of classes. Now I want that one week off, just to nap and relax. I need to clear my mind from all the two films I’m trying to get made. Here’s a picture, courtesy of Michael Castronova, since my camera cable has been chewed up by a certain cat.

Kristen Schaal was there too, you might know her as Mel from FotC on HBO. She actually had a great stand-up routine, particularly her so-called “plays.”
Even though I’m not writing anything of substance or even of interest to many. I feel last night deserves a blog post for it’s pure brilliance and padded seats.

I might not update during my one week off, so don’t think I’m dead…

Hey mister common sense…

“If Pinnochio said ‘This statement will make my nose grow’ what would happen?”

I figured it would sent a few brains a-spinning and leave me to writing a less than adequate blog. I actually, I just realized all my plans for a large blog post chronicling my last two years was forgotten since I just passed 100 posts. This would be the 110th post I believe. The 14th of October, 2009 then. That’s when it’s been two years and I feel a large post is in order then. For now, be satisfied with the mindfuck above and what presumably will be a mindfuck below.

My mind is honestly at a standstill, the cause is evident and looming right now. Actually it’s two, Flight of the Conchords and the Spring Break just one and three days away respectively. So, my mind is on it’s early vacation. Just sipping beers under a mental umbrella on a mental beach. It’s honestly frustrating when I do want to make some appealing post but yet, I am not able to.

I just read through Mr. Castronova’s Thoughts and his post on the disillusion of the Republican Party. It made me realize, not many people know my standing or they assume it to be liberal. Which honestly, I believe myself to be liberal, you’d think, if you were me, you would think this and I am me, so I’m in a perfect position to offer conclusive evidence on that…

Somehow, I cannot put into words how I feel about politics. Yet, I’m sure if I was forced into a debate, there’d be a way to adequately portray the words.

At this time, I think I’ll end this hopeless post of fumbling for words and pay attention in class.

Happyendingification

Whenever I get my hands on a copy of the newspaper that Americans persist in calling the London Times, I almost invariably turn first of all to the obituary pages and the death notices. This is partly to satisfy myself that I’m still here, but I do so primarily to read about the lives and careers of the recently-deceased, and to find out the age at which they actually passed on.

As I get older, this becomes an increasingly significant (and discouraging) consideration, and I suspect I’m far from being alone in finding this to be so. My grandfather once remarked that when he read the obituary pages, he always averaged out the ages of those whose deaths were reported, and then he subtracted his own accumulated years from the figure he had calculated, so as to get a rough idea of how much time and how many years he himself had got left to go.