creepin at mit

I've been out doing hipster things for the past two weeks in our humble little city and will be going out again soon. I shall tell you about a gem this city has to offer: the chapel at MIT, which I initially mistook for a tomb because it looked like some Treasury of Atreus shit. But we decided to check it out and it was so fucking trippy! We discovered a hidden staircase that led to an even creepier set of halls and doors. I was expecting the Crypt Keeper or worse, Dave Seliger, to rise up from a coffin or something. All that has helped me resolve that I am definitely spending more time on the MIT campus this spring.

P.S. Spring project starts on Monday and will hopefully mean an assload of time to do nothing, so I should be able to really polish this place up. So, look for better and more relevant things soon.
P.P.S. Today I learned that a group of kittens is called a kindle. Oh mah gah.

XIII

Well twenty-two episodes later, I've finally finished off Rome.

Once you get over the shock of ridiculous amounts of sex and violence, the plot really shines through and it is fascinating. It is a complex web of deceit and the consequences of infinitesimal actions of the most infinitesimal people on the entire state. The characters are multi-faceted, however, and are simply so many shades of grey that there is no such thing as "good" or "bad." Even now, I sympathize with many of the villains and if anything, this show has helped clarify for me the intentions and reactions of people who become unbearably mundane in history books and actors manage to justify names (Brutus, Cassius, Cicero, etc.) as well.

The writing was great though any complaints would be directed towards the insanely accelerated pace of the second season and historical inaccuracies that I only managed to pick up because I know more about Octavian's life than I did about his father's. (Thank you, Allan Massie. Boring book, good facts.) I think we covered thirteen years (44 BC with Caesar's death to 31 BC, the Battle of Actium) in ten episodes. Even so, I'm pretty satisfied with how the show ended!

oh mah gah

Well, this weekend I stumbled across several things that have kept me from getting to bed at a reasonable hour.

1. The first, of course, is F My Life and if you don't know what that is by now, for shame! It is addicting and even now it's taking every bone shard and sinew in my body to retain myself from opening a tab.
2. The second thing I found was Pandemic II where you create a disease and try to kill off mankind. It may sound morbid but you quickly get really into it and I'm still angry I wasn't able to touch fucking Madagascar! wtf!
   
3. The third thing I found again was the PUPPY CAM!!! I can't believe it still exists. It's not that great now that the other five (my favorite was Purple... I never bothered to learn their names) have gone.
   

Anyway, here's my favorite Youtube corgi to brighten up your Monday afternoon. These dumpy little dogs with big ears make my heart of coal melt a little. AWWW LOOK AT HIS FACE !

gecko

Yaaaaaaaay happy 51st birthday, Gary Numan! It's time to break out the synthesizers, tambourines, eyeliner and cuddle up to your nearest Luke Boelitz look-a-like.

PLZ

I've got craploads of work to do today that I don't really feel like doing. I reeeally hope the angel of pantsuits (sadly, not the ravishing beauty above but, Mizz Upham) will give us a much-needed snow day so I have some extra time to get this shit done.

Update: THANK YOU SNOW GODS

stalkin venice

Here are some screenshotz of the webcams in Saint Mark's Square and by the Rialto Bridge. It's about eight at night there now, but these were taken just before sunset.

er, speaking of venice

Carnevale starts in Venice tomorrow, which is exciting. I hope you all recover from the plague and mono (I'm talking to you, slutty sophomores) soon so that you can break out yo masks and elaborate costumes! Ali told me that she's off bread for Lent because she couldn't give up Facebook. Good choice, methinks.

Anyway, my little chumlettes in Rome, however, aren't going because they haven't planned properly, although Venice is a mere 6 hours away by car and 4 days on foot. Ah well, they're going to Poland for spring break, so I suppose I can forgive them. A bit.
Anyway, I've been stalking the webcam and there are lots of lights and people milling around the Piazza San Marco. I will be sure to stalk it again (properly) tomorrow morning.

The lovely image is from [link].

Anyway, here's a guy who can draw a perfect circle.

veronese is lazy

Since I'm really cool, I subscribe to emails from the MFA and I got one yesterday about an exhibition I've known about for a while, but it's snazzy that it's nearly here. I'm talkin bout the Titian, Tintoretto, Veronese: Rivals in Renaissance Venice exhibition which opens March 15. I suspect I will be dragged to see this over March break, so I may as well prepare myself for it. In all honesty, though, I'm looking forward to it. It's got some cool people and my current picturesque city obsession all in one.

Also, I like Veronese... mostly because he's a blasphemer and a lazy one at that!
Here's a Monty Python skit, and as much as I respect the Python's razor sharp wit, I think you'll find that Veronese fits the role better than Michelangelo.

umberto eco helps us out

I'm not at all religious and in fact, my loyalty swings back and forth all the time. (Note: heavy metal monk is still great but I'm still waiting for that Hindu glam folk rock band.)
Anyway, Sigur Ros wasn't really doing a lot for me recently in terms of quiet music while studying, so fortunately this morning I rediscovered Gregorian chants! We listened to this shit earlier this year because we thought it would help us learn something about Romanesque art. (It didn't.)

Anyway, this is the Salve Regina, humbly brought to you by the monks of the Abbey of Notre Dame. Nice for a bit. But if Umberto Eco taught me anything, it's that getting up half an hour before I go to bed, at the crack of dawn, and wandering around, trying to avoid being murdered by crazy monks isn't really my cup of tea.

quel oeuvre 2/10

El Greco, The Burial of the Count of Orgaz, 1588
Santo Tomé, Toledo

Sam Clark suggested that Saint Teresa and Countess Orgaz were one and the same. I will not try to make any more sexual puns than there are already but would just like to say that I totally approve of this sort of Spanish beardiness and ruff combination.

evening timez

On my way home this evening, I spotted a big yellow shiny thing in the sky. And no, it wasn't an illuminated banana. It was a beyootiful moon rise over our lovely Cambridge.

I would have taken my own photo, but no one needs to see shitty camera phone pictures.
Image blatantly stolen from [link].

the frenchies

This is pretty much why I like the French department: we spend a lot of time learning 80's disco songs. Also, we'll have the Frenchies smokin up in the parking lots in two months, which would be exciting but isn't because sadly they're all really weird, buy 10 million iPhones, and only do the exchange because they think they're going to partaaaay in America but then realize the only people doing the exchange are freshmen so they end up in pervy situations with Lincoln Gamble. And no one needs that.

P.S. I suspect I'm the only one still watching Proper Messy (for the accents, I promise) on BBC2, but today's episode was certainly a WHOA wasn't expecting that!

god also approves

Okay, this is the best story I have read today. And I just read a story about phishy (sorry, had to be done) Phelps being a pothead.

Anyway, head over to the BBC to see a 62 year old monk called Brother Cesare Bonizzi who is in a heavy metal band.

If all monks were crazyasses who belong in FIVE FINGER DEATH PUNCH, I may consider converting to Catholicism. Sorry, Ganesha. But I can be easily won back if the Hindus start a glam folk rock band.

poseidon approves

This is what I like to hear. Michael Phelps may be the son of Poseidon, but he's also an expert pothead! British tabloid, the News of the World, got a hold of some pictures of him gettin sexay with a bong in November. Said some big-mouth onlookers,

"He grabbed the bong and a lighter and ripped a huge smelly bong rip. He knew exactly what he was doing. He looked just as natural with a bong in his hands as he does swimming the backstroke."

I love these statements that these anonymous bitches make. Reading that made me feel a little sick, but you know that you jizzed your pants just then. Anysexybong, some playa hatas out there are saying that it's no good and it will make him a bad role model for aspiring Poseidons in the world. So our little fishy friend released a statement saying that,

"I engaged in behaviour which was regrettable and demonstrated bad judgment... for this, I am sorry. I promise my fans and the public it will not happen again."

Well I know that Rindge just opened a new pool and this is just proof that the power of weed can make you into a living dolphin god. Be sure to see lots of stoners at the pool soon. (Good thing Felipe's is nearby.)