Marc
Day 1, 684 miles = Little Rock, Arkansas
Is this the tomb of Christ?
I seem to be at my funniest when I have a bottle of Bass in one hand, and my other is wildly flailing about, helping my mouth articulate exactly why there is no God. Ask anyone who's seen me this summer, post-poetry class. They'll tell you the truth.
So, I've decided to combat this sudden rejection of religion ***My One & Only Footnote, Ever***by replacing it with a hometown hero/genius (of sorts), better known to the public as David Foster Wallace (aka- DFW, as Zach will gladly point out, if you are indeed priveleged enough to talk to the man). I started out about 9 months with A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again, which has the fascinating essay on the 1993 Illinois State Fair (truly a must read for anyone born in the Midwest). I'd dabbled in Brief Interviews w/Hideous Men, but let it fall by the wayside due to my terrible lack of attention span at the time (I was increasingly becoming frustrated w/my lack of contact between myself and my friends, and going through small bouts of anxiety over whether or not I was ever going to find the time to finish school). Ultimately, I knew I wanted to tackle Infinite Jest (aka- The Beast), but was too scared to start in on it. After some serious soul-searching, I finally gave in and bought it about two months ago, just before summer classes were about to begin (I originally was going to buy it last winter, but thought that it was entirely too cumbersome to take on the plane (which, in fact, it is (I need to put down the tray to house it while I flip through) ) ). Now, I've finally found the right time to read it. My job allows me a whopping 80% of downtime these days (it's amazing how I switched from a high-octane situation, to a low-octane situation, to a semi-low-octane situation (which feels much more intense than the low-octane situation (mostly attribute that to flying during the "summer-time vacationer's period) ) ). I'm proud to report that I'm currently 230 pages/80 footnotes into The Beast, and loving every second of it. Anyone who has the ability to write a book with such a large scope and girth is a genius, whether the book is a piece of shit or not. It's just out-&-out huge (and pleasantly intoxicating), one of those rare books where one finds themself literally (no pun intended) immersed in the characters, the plotlines, and the sheer brilliance of how it all seems to be coming together.
***M.O.&.O.F.E.*** (I'll start by saying that I hate ripping Zach off (who, in turn is ripping off DFW (but that's entirely acceptable b/c DFW's a fucking genius) ) ) I'd like to nip a side tale in the ass before it gets started. When I moved to the Bloomington-Normal area in late '97, I did wear a "WWJD" bracelet. I've never been wholly religious - religion being methodically taken out of my life by (1) my parents, whom I can't thank enough & (2) myself after long periods of doubt about some exterior figure looking down at me all the time. I started going to church as an infant, and stopped going at the age of three. I was baptised Catholic, but never went through those classes in Junior High to take communion, or whatever the hell those were for (the name and purpose escapes me at the moment). I did, in fact, take communion on a few seperate occasions at Mr. Jesse Hansford's church when we were in Junior High. I'd stay at his house on Saturday night and go to church with his family on Sundays. When they passed around the plate with the bread and the grape juice, I figured it was impolite not to take it. So I did. Jesse is still fiercely religious, the only point of contention in our fantastic, nearly life-long friendship. We don't talk about it all that much, instead tending to skirt around the subject whenever it comes up (although this isn't the case when I've been drinking around the man - my mouth just starts going, and I can't make it stop). Basically, with the "WWJD" bracelet, it was more of a show of character as I was StraightedgE at the time. The only other people that I knew who held the same belief in pure body, pure mind/type-stuff were hardcore Christians. A girlfriend at the time gave it to me, thinking that I'd like it (which I did, b/c it came from her, not for what it represented). I wore it (once again more as a devotion to her than to anything else). But, once we parted, I conveniently "lost" it (down the trash chute).
Day 1, 684 miles = Little Rock, Arkansas
Is this the tomb of Christ?
I seem to be at my funniest when I have a bottle of Bass in one hand, and my other is wildly flailing about, helping my mouth articulate exactly why there is no God. Ask anyone who's seen me this summer, post-poetry class. They'll tell you the truth.
So, I've decided to combat this sudden rejection of religion ***My One & Only Footnote, Ever***by replacing it with a hometown hero/genius (of sorts), better known to the public as David Foster Wallace (aka- DFW, as Zach will gladly point out, if you are indeed priveleged enough to talk to the man). I started out about 9 months with A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again, which has the fascinating essay on the 1993 Illinois State Fair (truly a must read for anyone born in the Midwest). I'd dabbled in Brief Interviews w/Hideous Men, but let it fall by the wayside due to my terrible lack of attention span at the time (I was increasingly becoming frustrated w/my lack of contact between myself and my friends, and going through small bouts of anxiety over whether or not I was ever going to find the time to finish school). Ultimately, I knew I wanted to tackle Infinite Jest (aka- The Beast), but was too scared to start in on it. After some serious soul-searching, I finally gave in and bought it about two months ago, just before summer classes were about to begin (I originally was going to buy it last winter, but thought that it was entirely too cumbersome to take on the plane (which, in fact, it is (I need to put down the tray to house it while I flip through) ) ). Now, I've finally found the right time to read it. My job allows me a whopping 80% of downtime these days (it's amazing how I switched from a high-octane situation, to a low-octane situation, to a semi-low-octane situation (which feels much more intense than the low-octane situation (mostly attribute that to flying during the "summer-time vacationer's period) ) ). I'm proud to report that I'm currently 230 pages/80 footnotes into The Beast, and loving every second of it. Anyone who has the ability to write a book with such a large scope and girth is a genius, whether the book is a piece of shit or not. It's just out-&-out huge (and pleasantly intoxicating), one of those rare books where one finds themself literally (no pun intended) immersed in the characters, the plotlines, and the sheer brilliance of how it all seems to be coming together.
***M.O.&.O.F.E.*** (I'll start by saying that I hate ripping Zach off (who, in turn is ripping off DFW (but that's entirely acceptable b/c DFW's a fucking genius) ) ) I'd like to nip a side tale in the ass before it gets started. When I moved to the Bloomington-Normal area in late '97, I did wear a "WWJD" bracelet. I've never been wholly religious - religion being methodically taken out of my life by (1) my parents, whom I can't thank enough & (2) myself after long periods of doubt about some exterior figure looking down at me all the time. I started going to church as an infant, and stopped going at the age of three. I was baptised Catholic, but never went through those classes in Junior High to take communion, or whatever the hell those were for (the name and purpose escapes me at the moment). I did, in fact, take communion on a few seperate occasions at Mr. Jesse Hansford's church when we were in Junior High. I'd stay at his house on Saturday night and go to church with his family on Sundays. When they passed around the plate with the bread and the grape juice, I figured it was impolite not to take it. So I did. Jesse is still fiercely religious, the only point of contention in our fantastic, nearly life-long friendship. We don't talk about it all that much, instead tending to skirt around the subject whenever it comes up (although this isn't the case when I've been drinking around the man - my mouth just starts going, and I can't make it stop). Basically, with the "WWJD" bracelet, it was more of a show of character as I was StraightedgE at the time. The only other people that I knew who held the same belief in pure body, pure mind/type-stuff were hardcore Christians. A girlfriend at the time gave it to me, thinking that I'd like it (which I did, b/c it came from her, not for what it represented). I wore it (once again more as a devotion to her than to anything else). But, once we parted, I conveniently "lost" it (down the trash chute).
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