Who ordered the scrambled brains?

Update: Fixed the link to my American Society project referenced below.

Every morning on the bus I ride past the corner of Santa Monica and Westwood. There’s always a big traffic pile-up there; construction on the Santa Monica Blvd expansion isn’t supposed to finish until March 2006. On that corner is situated the Blue Wave car wash, one of their two locations. Looking at the cars in the lot are a good indicator of the affleunce of nearby neighborhoods, since most are luxury makes. Every morning I see Mexican laborers - most likely undocumented - earnestly scrubbing spots from these vehicles. It’s a sight that is common not only in urban L.A., but throughout Southern California. The image of the “illegal” Mexican is inculcuated into us on a daily basis.

Good god. I just received a call from my landlordlady regarding neighbor complaints of our parking practices. Here’s the situation as I see it. One of the tenants in the building, who’s parking spot neighbors ours, bought a car that is too big for her to be comfortable driving. For her to get to her spot, she has to maneuver (i.e. steer) her car around my and my roommate’s cars, which are parked in tandem. She apparently feels that we park too spaciously, leaving her little room to reach her spot. The reality is that my roommate and I have made arrangements for him to park on the “outside” spot, and I maneuver (or, steer) my car around his to park in the “inside” spot. Yes, I don’t only drive around the side of him, but I even have enough room once on the side to drive completely in front of him. Good doggone gog dod!

I’m in my American Society computer lab section at the moment, and just had a chit-chat with the professor about the final project (which I completed last night, which unbeknownst to me was two nights before the due date). He liked my analysis and encouraged me to present my project (along with 20 others, who, if anything like the 6 that presented today, are all over-achieving idiots). I told him to buzz off. (”I appreciate the encouragement, but I’d be too nervous.”) I’m gonna get a B in that class anyway. I guess with the presentation I’d get an A, but unfortunately the only distinction I see in grades, thanks to The System, is between a C- and D+. Why don’t you take a gander at my project? I know, there are a few typos. Don’t worry. I won’t be wasting time correcting them.

It’s not very often that I get super-obsessed with a band. The last ones were Sun Kil Moon last September, and Stephen Malkmus more recently. So I don’t want you to even get me started on Friday, 3 June 2005, or the equally heart-wrenching, potential-squandered Saturday, 4 June 2005. Bloc Party played at the El Rey. And I didn’t go. Nuff said. But that’s OK. On Friday, Natalie and I checked out pop-inflected indie-alternative throwback Good on Paper. These guys are hot with two T’s. (”hott”, not “thot”.) My friend Tim (Natalie’s ex-boyfriend, dum dum DAH!) is the drummer with a confident rythm. Their sound is very slacker-romantic, and expulses of the stylistic marshmallow flourishes (which effect a dramatization of the art rather than accomplishing what it usually needs: sensitization) prevalent in the current lot of indie music. Did that make sense? Well, it sounded good in my head. (ha ha.) On Saturday, we checked out the new apartment of my friend Bianca (my ex-girlfriend; there: equal now) and her boyfriend Tom (his car gets 2.89 air flow, ladies, by the way). Then we rocketed at 2mph across the 10E/405N interchange into Westwood for some fine Indian dining (Nat’s idea). Unfortunately I ate too much, then Nat got sick, then Tom lost his ability to stay awake (he works 12 hour days guys, and this was a on a Saturday), and then Bianca started cleaning the fridge. A funny ending to a fun evening.

So what do we make of the macho-tastic coup d’etat that has usurped the -an of the American and marched onto it’s iron-fisted rule. Gone are respect for intelligence and compassion, and in their place is worship of resolve and stoicism. Who needs intelligence when you people only care how confident you are in your position? Who needs compassion when it can only undermine your resolve? Americans don’t. We prefer Bush, Scwarzenegger, Bolton, and war war WAR! Unilateralism is the international equivalent of schoolyard bully tactics. We redefine ourselves by this American identity, of confidence and practicality. “Rejection of intellectual elitism”? I don’t buy it. It is accepted because it is an easier interpretation of the American dream to adopt than the one with a more moral basis. It’s easier to be greedy and self-righteous because it caters to our more simple instincts. And this extends down from the social level to the interpersonal level. The most recent example was when a friend of mine was charged with being “sensitive”… as if that were a bad thing! Goodness! It is my hope that my people will see the immorality of this and embrace intelligence, compassion, and all the compromise and altruism that it entails. I’m proud to say that many of my family and friends are both educated and compassionate. Am I right? Am I the only one?

I guess not! I’m in my Social Knowledge and Power lecture right now and my professor just said “It is true that academics and intellectuals are more respected in other countries. They do not feel invited.” But who cares what she has to say. She’s just a professor.

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