Peanutbutter & Jelly, Fake Tans & Politics

I'd say it's a fairly typical year in modern politics:

- For reasons beyond any of us, or our president, we're involved in a new foreign war in some awful desert.

- A creepy old politician has been involved in lewd behavior (but with the name of Weiner, it should be noted that this is special).

- The government has decided that the best way to fix problems, both economic and otherwise, is more government.

- There's a far-right, gun-advocating woman with country charm running for the republican presidential ticket.

- This blog continues to be a standard-bearer of truth and reason.

We have something unique though—there are two Mormons running for President. I just wanted to throw in my two cents for Mr. Huntsman (I think his campaign should be like those ads for pork in the day, "Huntsman. The other white mormon."). I think we should all give him a chance. Check out the WP mini-bio about him

http://www.washingtonpost.com/jon-huntsman/2011/06/10/AGF9UWPH_page.html

Just don't let the Jersey Shore-esque tan throw you off.

Anyways, here's to hoping that poor man can survive being complimented by the sitting President of the United States and the Senate Majority Leader and make it to the Oval Office (or "The Ov," as Barack likes to call it).

And I realize that I will look quite silly posting this if somebody discovers he's been taking shirtless muscle pictures of himself and sending them to his twitter followers...

Thank Heavens I Have Grad School

About two weeks ago, I wrapped up my time as a student at BYU. I just feel great about college, now that I'm looking back at it. Maybe if I did it again I would've studied a little bit freshman year, or I would've done a minor besides business (basically punting on making a decision for what to study), and I probably would've watched more Jersey Shore. A well-rounded education is essential.

I'm actually kidding there. Business is a pretty useful thing to know a bit about.

But really, things worked out pretty well. I really liked my major especially. I think when most people consider a Spanish major, they think we must be learning the nuances of "ser" and "estar" for four years, coupled with two years of classes about Don Quixote. But at the same level of mercy as the sparing of the city of Nineveh, I didn't have to study more than one semester of grammar. It was actually just class after class where I would read books and talk about ideas.

I don't know if I was a person who loved that kind of thing when I began college, but I think it's great now. The graduation ceremony kind've epitomized the whole experience. One speaker gave a great talk about the need to forget so that we can generalize and think, drawing from a short story by Borges, Funes el memorioso (Funes the Memorious.. Who's ever heard that word?). The next speaker used Plato's allegory of The Cave, which I had talked about a few different times in college. I wonder how many times its been used in graduation speeches, because it's just so fitting to rationalize reading really cool books for four years and getting a diploma for it. Graduates, you have seen the light.

Now it's the next thing. It's funny how that has come around for everyone. I'm just excited for a bright future unrolling legislation that will make wearing shape-ups illegal for the entire population of the United States. That way our once-distinguished retired professional athletes no longer have to embarrass themselves wearing them in commercials.

Another generational Vietnam/Korea/Europe

Osama is dead. A writer for the Washington Post said that it was like we had been released, and he had been holding us in prison. After having killed so many thousands of people, the fact that he breathed defied justice. People took the streets after news of his death in DC and NY to celebrate, but I don't think they were celebrating one more corpse of an American killer. I really think they were celebrating the end of an era, an end of imprisonment to the injustices of that man. Not as if Osama's death will stop hatred and terrorism in the world, but it does show that it can be overcome.

So now for a brief revisiting to what has defined my generation.

I was sitting in early morning seminary when the towers were destroyed. I just remember being so confused as to what happened. The details kept trickling out during the day, and the estimates came out with the amount of people who died. It was staggering. I don't think I really comprehended it for quite a while. The nation was awash in flags, yellow ribbons, and brave words. When we went to Afghanistan it felt right. Everyone felt that it was right. After a few months and a second country invaded, we were all trying to explain our rationale to ourselves and taking a step back to consider the Americans who were dying in a distant country of sand and sun.

And we didn't catch Osama. I felt like even though we were killing militants in Iraq and Afghanistan, and it surely had a calming effect on the world, we were just pawing and kicking at smoke.

That is by no means a fact based timeline. It's how I perceived this last decade, through adolescent, teenage, and (adult?) eyes. And I think it illustrates that release. The "War on Terror" isn't over, and likely won't be. But Osama's death was a step out of the cave he put us in.

But no Sacagawea?

Portland will stay weird. Don't worry, Wall Painter.

I'm a big fan. I ended up in Portland to check out a law school there, Lewis & Clark. I think the name is a bit weird, and it makes it sound like I'm thinking of going to a school where we learn how to make lean-tos and rafts out of logs. In fact, I was talking with another "prospective student" about names we wish it was called instead. All of them were taken though. Portland, Northwestern, Oregon... We also decided "really-awesome-wooded-campus in Portland" would just be a bit cumbersome.

The name Lewis & Clark is growing on me though. Which is good, because I'm really considering going there this fall.

Of course, the fact that I'm looking at other schools means that I got denied by UW. Yup. Rejected like a Yugo at an auto show... Smitten like the Canaanites... Shown the door like a houseguest who creepily told you that he's been using your toothbrush the last two weeks... Thrown in a dark corner of the room to be forgotten like a pair of Sketcher's Shapeups... I went through the various stages of grief, beat my steering wheel and moped about in a low-lying cloud of ashen sorrow, and then rose out of it to realize I still have some awesome options.

Back to the topic though—I'm liking Portland. Green, diverse, and quirky. If I end up there, I think it'll be a good fit.

A Fan is an Island

I'm sitting on the floor writing this. That's because when I watch Gonzaga play a close game, I always sit on the floor. Somehow it helps with the nerves. I don't need to do that for any other sporting game. I also don't throw on my team gear to watch a game by myself at home, as if I was a satellite one-man student section.

There are other college basketball teams I should like more than Gonzaga. Cal-berkeley is my home town school, I'm enrolled at BYU, and heck, even St. Mary's, Gonzaga's rival, makes more sense than the Zags. They're just down the road from where I live. But yet here I am, yelling at my TV (which I never do), hating St Mary's for having the audacity to play a close game against my favorite Spokanians. All the same, I think I only love BYU football more than Gonzaga basketball.

The strangest thing of it all I think, is that I can't think of another single fan that likes Zags basketball. That is, apart from my little brother, who I forced to watch Gonzaga games with me 10 years ago.

I wrote this during the overtime. Zags won. I can rest easy tonight.

Your Beard Is Good.

There's always a balance in things; for every Berkeley, there is a Provo, for every game of football, there's about 12 episodes of "Project Runway" and "Glee." And for every good movie, there's about three that contain a line of dialogue akin to this gem from Transformers 2- "Oh, no! The machine is buried in the pyramid! If they turn it on, it will destroy the sun! Not on my watch!"

And then there's beards and "fun" clothing.

This might seem like a pretty arbitrary connection. But look into it. If you're a non-beard-grower (a woman) think about the last time you bought something and your friends said "That is so FUN!" Now think about the thing you bought—chances are, it was a smidgen garish, probably shiny, and perhaps not even that flattering. But it's entertaining because you're pushing things with it, or maybe it's stating in some obscure, not-so-apparent-to-everyone-else-but-makes-tons-of-sense-in-your-mind way, who you are.

Now this is the same exact thing that happens with a beard. If women, through some petrifying twist in the creation story, grew beards, they would say something like, "Rosie O' Donnell, that beard is so FUN!"

The beard fills that same role the "fun" clothing does. Women generally hate it, it's scratchy and irritating to grow, and more often than not, it just doesn't look like any of the beards you see on "The Lord Of The Rings." Its allure is inexplicable, but at the same time irresistible. Even if it is some ugly scraggly thing. See below.

Christmas is a Bajillion Times More Awesome Than Any Other Holiday

Just a week or so ago, I was putting up Christmas lights at my house with my Dad, and just in general loving life. It was a little bit chilly, but it feels great to be bundled up, and when I went inside, my Mom and sister had baked up warm cookies. We put the tree up and strung lights on it, and then put on some holiday music. Basically, my parent's house was about to violently burst with the amount of yuletide joy bottled up inside.

The best arrangement of Christmas lights. Ever.

There are just so many awesome things about Christmas, especially when you line it up against other holidays. For one, there's no prescribed meat that you have to eat. That's really my only bone to pick with Thanksgiving. Why couldn't the pioneers have eaten steak? Or BBQ'd up a pig? Also, Christmas is often accompanied with 2 or more weeks off of school. Tell me the last time you did that for me, President's Day.

This is not to rag on other holidays though. I love them all, especially the 4th of July, because I love America.

People live in Iceland? And there's one that sings?

So there's something about seeing an Icelandic guy singing falsetto and dancing around in a weird head dress thing that just hits the spot for me. Granted, I've only seen this once, but it really left a good impression. It happened last Friday. There, surrounded by guys likely named Elliston wearing black turtlenecks and accompanied by their skinny girlfriends, I beheld Jonsi. It was a pretty jawesome concert. It did also remind me though, that I've been in Utah for quite a while. That is, I'm not used to the young angst-filled crowds of aggressively individualistic hippy types like I used to be. Miss it.

So yeah, the thing was good and artsy. For one of the songs, they had this cool movie they played in the background of a wolf chasing a deer, and then the deer changed into a bird, and then the wolf changed into a hawk, and then the deer changed back into a deer, and the wolf changed back to his wolfy self, and then the deer decided to grow horns and just own the wolf... Were I the deer I probably would've busted out those horns earlier and saved myself the stress. Anyways, the visuals were pretty cool.

Also, Jonsi, the singer, decided to don a head dress for the encore. For an idea of what I'm talking about, check out this bundle of interesting below.

...Yup. I liked it.

So as a kid who already enjoys foreign movies and modern art (in small doses...) chalk this up for another step towards buying a black turtleneck.

Now you think, this is great, but Bryce, the bigger issue is, "what do you think about frozen brownies?"

They're absolutely fantastic. Though the first thing I hear when I suggest this is, "aren't they all hard?" Yes. Duh. Do you have a magic freezer that freezes things but keeps them soft? The solution is that you don't just chomp down on it as if it wasn't frozen. Anyways, I don't mean to be negative about this, but really just share my joy of something that I love with the rest of the world. Freeze some.

Would you marry him?

I sometimes tell people that I don't think I entertain anyone more than myself. I mean, every now and then I'll be doing something that maybe everyone else doesn't get, but I think it's hilarious (Lame? Maybe.). That makes me sound like a complete weirdo, so here's an example to make me look a little more normal.

When I'm hanging out with a group of girls and one of them mentions that they recently went on or will go on a first date, I'm always quick to jump in with this question— Well, do you think you could marry him?

Now some brief commentary. The first time I asked this, I thought everyone would just start laughing, and the girl I asked it would blush, or call me ridiculous or something. Because it does seem ridiculous, right? Right?

Anyways, back to that question. As something that causes me deep consternation, I have never once had some girl just laugh in my face. It's almost always the same response— a pensive look up, and then a sincere response. The responses have varied. Most have been "Maaaaybe" (perhaps you're not sure because you have no idea who this person is... I mean, I'm not Dr. Phil, but I'm just sayin') and I also get the occasional "yeah" or a laugh and "never!"

What? Who has decided after, or even before one date that they can marry that person? Are we that shallow? Or that crazy? Has society come to this? Have I myself thought that I could marry Penelope Cruz after seeing her smile on David Letterman? I think the answers are maybe a little more than we would want to know. (yes)

So that's just some food for thought. And as some dessert for thought, the LSAT is over. I don't care if I get a 121, I will not take that test again (though I might end my life if i saw that score...). Now I just get to wait three weeks for my score to come in. I mean, the football off-season is like 8 months, so three weeks can't be too bad.

An Autobiography for the Last 8 Months

I figure if I had anything to do with 15 minutes to do with my life, I'd want to hear about myself. So it's only natural that other people do too. Search no more—here it is.

I've been practicing for the LSAT since February (which is the strangest-spelled month of them all. We say Feb-no R-uary and write febRuary. Anyways...). I've done around 35 practice tests so far (3 hours a piece), plus countless hours of drilling and attending class while neglecting classes, friends, and Sportscenter. Because of that, I have possibly one of the most intimate

knowledges of a very quiet section on the first floor of the Harold B. Lee Library that anyone in this school ever has, and I've come to despise anyone coming down there and making noise, such as breathing.

I also am growing in my paranoia about the test. I now wear a certain pair of shoes each time I take it, but take them off for the first three sections and put them on for the next two. I onlylisten to songs with the simplest of melodies before taking a test, like Dynamite by Taio Cruz, because i'm bound to have a song get stuck in my head and pray that it's not a distracting one (e.g.- Phantom of the Opera. Instead of thinking how arguments were flawed, I was trying to remember the words to "Masquerade." It was a terrible test.) I think I'm narrowing it down to wearing a certain pair of jeans, and possibly a specific shirt too. I'm also terrified that something traumatic will happen before the test, such as instantaneously going bald. I wouldn't even be mad at instantaneously being bald, I'd just be absolutely livid that it happened before my test.

In all though, prepping for the LSAT has been a great experience. Even though I could've easily learned a 3rd language with that effort, it's been an opportunity for me to exhibit my work ethic to, well, really, to just myself. It also proved that I have the ability to excel and improve in something genuinely difficult. Hopefully I can just do well on October 9th (October- a normally spelled month) when it comes down to it, so I can go to UW.

I coached a tee-ball team too, but that's already been documented.

School has started again. For my Spanish literature class, I decided to take a teacher who I knew was more difficult, but who I thought just taught a superior class, through insights and materials, than anyone else. Let me repeat that. I, of my own volition and will, chose a teacher who I knew would be harder than others.

I'm just kinda waiting to be translated to heaven right now for my shocking maturity...

Didn't happen. Anyways, that class, to no-one's surprise, is tough. My other classes—poetry, composition, business (smarminess), religion—are not too bad. But I'm always reminded how much I like my major.

In addition to that, I'm still working. It's for the Multicultural Office (of course I can be in there even though i'm white) writing for the Eagle's Eye. I have been promoted to Editor-in-total-awesomeness-and-chief recently though, which brings more responsibility and... well, no co-current pay increase. But I enjoy the extra responsibility and the opportunity to write Editor-in-Chief on my law school applications.

And dating! Yes! Dating! Well, like a game of baseball in the 14th inning, it actually can be exciting at times but mostly you just wish it was already over, and everyone, when they're being honest with themselves, wants to just leave the stadium, drive home, and sleep.

Wow. That baseball analogy was good. When I use that again in real life, act like you heard it for the first time. And laugh.

Speaking of laughter, I want to mention my car. It's a 94 Buick, and it's just not as mighty as it once was. I tried to drive up to a ski resort the other day, and it started misfiring and only going 10 m.p.h. until finally I pulled over and it started smoking like... well, an analogy is not coming to me, but it started smoking like a 94 Buick when it's done trying. I'll put "large hills" on things not to attempt with it.

If you're a fervent follower of this blog (I'm doubtful...), than you already know all my friends are married. So I decided with one year left at BYU, I'd just stay in the same complex and move upstairs, keepin' things simple. My new roommates turned out to be great, and we always hit the clubs on Friday nights and get hyphy. Kidding. But yeah, they're nice guys.

New ward too. I'm quickly, and unintentionally, establishing myself as the "funny guy." Apparently I'm already the "funny guy" to some. This comes with some pressure. I'm not the stand-up comedian kind of funny, so I think if people come with that expectation, it'll be hard to please them. It's more of a smoldering, sexy kind of funny, and that really doesn't come out until I know the person more. And anyways, personally, I'd prefer to be known as "that really smart guy," or "the guy that's just in general great to be around," or just "the Situation." Someday...

So anyways, I gave a talk in church, hit some funny notes, and sat down. I try to be funny to hide the fact that I'm so nervous that I'm shaking up at the podium. I had people telling me I'm funny the rest of the day. One guy even repeated some of the things that I had said, as if their hilarity had escaped me. Really, it's fine being the funny guy, but it's just so one-dimensional. Maybe if I work on it, "Renaissance man" will catch on.

GOODNESS. I think that took up at least 10 minutes of your time. It's late at night, I really had a lot on my mind and really, writing like this is kinda therapeutic. I don't have to think about a thesis and all that jazz, it just kinda comes. But yeah, here you go Elder (Brandon) Pedersen, this is the best response you'll ever get to writing "how's life?" on a Facebook wall. Ever. And stay away from the wax... Trust me, it hurts.

I Belong to the West Coast

I can remember when I stopped plotting to transfer to UCSB my freshman year here at BYU. It was at Thanksgiving. The fact that everyone here was Mormon wasn't freaking me out quite as much as when I had arrived, and also, everyone I knew from Utah invited me to go eat Thanksgiving dinner with them and their family. Really nice, I think. So anyways, that outpouring of brotherly love preempted a sudden flight to California.

Now that I'm back from my mission, I really like BYU. The girls here are clean, it's the means by which the greatest football team ever can exist, and my friends aren't drunk and puking. Like ever. But every time I go back to the West Coast, It just feels right. Most recently, this happened in both Portland and Seattle, but it's true for all of it. Well, let me qualify that. SoCal isn't really my thing. I have nothing against beaches and sunshine. In fact, I really like them, but I just am smitten with the hippy-esque, tattooed, multiple pierced, granola, far-left people from SF on north. I'm also a big fan of the grassy hills and forests. It's just a nice thing to have.

So yeah, going to Grad School is nice that way. I can (to some extent) control where I end up. I don't really know for sure where that'll happen, when I'm honest with myself, but I hope it works out like I want it to.

Rad/Super un-rad

So, in life recently things have been boiling down to two different categories for me- Rad, and super un-rad.

Let me break it down.

RAD

- UW. Purple has never been part of my color wheel, but it might be in a couple months here. I was able to run over to the Law School over there, and man, it's nice. I was also able to check out the campus too, and while I was laying down in the quad between six stately buildings, on a cloudless day with the sun lazily dripping in through the leaves of the shady tree i was laying under, i thought, "If God doesn't want me to go here, He really dropped the ball today."

Gates Hall, or, the law school.

The whole campus looks how I'd always imagine a campus would look like. Not that I dislike BYU's immaculate stretch of cemented property, but UW had those classic buildings with ornate facades, long shady paths across green, slightly over-grown lawns, awe-inspiring views and the water just a block from campus. As well as a super nice-looking law school.

RAD

- BYU football starts up soon. Besides giving my life deep significance, it also means that each Saturday for the next few months I'll have something that directs unparalleled joy into my life. The only potential downside to this is the possibility that they could lose a game, which often leads to an invasive sense of ennui for the following week.

RAD

- Portland. Rip City is really looking great. First time I've really been there, and I just like that whole area. I've decided I love greenery and trees with the occasional mountain (Pacific Northwest anyone?) and Portland is just that. Also, word is that it doesn't rain quite as much as it does in Seattle, which I'm sure loses it's novelty after three weeks of downpour.

SUPER UN-RAD

- Moving. So around 2:30 Friday morning, when I was trying to put the closet door back together for the third time and it just fell apart right when I thought I had it, I may or may not have wanted to sit down on the floor and sob for 20 seconds before falling into a deep sleep and forget about waking up for an 8 a.m. flight. That I instead simply muttered something about how dumb closet doors are and fell asleep in my bed shows the mettle i'm made of. Really though, the whole process kinda stunk and took forever, and was possibly exacerbated by an idyll visit to In-N-Out about midway through it. I made it though.

SUPER UN-RAD

- KFC. I just can't stand it. I know I eat greasy, unhealthy and potentially life-threatening foods on a regular basis (and even revel in the fact) but I just despise that jolly colonel and his greasy bags chuck full of fried who-knows-what.

SUPER UN-RAD

- All my friends are married. To look on the bright side, I'm getting really good at two things; being the focus of attention of two people when I go visit one of my buddies and their respective wife, and finding, with ever-increasing wit and hilarity, ways to respond to the question, "Well, when is it your turn Bryce?" But on the other side, there's a moment after my friends are eternally sealed to their better half and they're joking around with the broskis, when I think- It just won't be the same. And it's true. So even though I keep losing about two friends a year, the prospect of instantaneously gaining 5 or 6 friends again when i get married (someday) is pretty exciting.

A couple of un-hitched guys looking at the guy who just got hitched.

And a brief aside- 1- I love going to these weddings. They're way fun and I think it's great to support my friends. 2- Dan, you're still my friend even if you aren't married. I'm just generalizing here.

The Fat is the Best Part

Having worked as a writer since January, and being a student who considers his strong suit to be writing, much fuss has been made over editing out "fat." I'll illustrate my position on this with a largely irrelevant analogy. Fat in writing is like fat in meat. When I was a child, I generally despised this fat because Americans don't know how to cook fat (although whatever my mother cooked was great). Or maybe its just that fat is just not appropriate for American meals. Whatever. When I went to Argentina, I discovered that fat was God's gift to those who truly loved meat. It's slightly crunchy almost, and full of flavor. You end up wanting a bit on each bite, and in your dreams steaks dance across your subconscious.

I've also found it is the same in writing. There are those things that just cannot abide fat, or perhaps just can't include it because of the preferences of those eating it. Journalism, I think, would fall into this category. It's all about opening up the reader's mouth and turning on a fire hose. Same deal with academic papers. Really though, that would be like having fat on a tomato. Just something you don't want to be eating in the first place. But anyways, with literature I really do enjoy that bit of fat. When the prose is just something lyrical and beautiful (and well done), sometimes it seems that the novel is merely the catalyst of bringing together that kind of writing, instead of the other way around. So openly, I’ll admit I love literature that is a bit indulgent. I love the prepositions. I love the occasional passive sentence. I love the half-page descriptions of sunsets draining the sky of color, the feeling of the wind whispering to you, the churning of a train’s wheels on smooth steel tracks, and whatever else I haven’t experienced again on the pages of a book.

Just as long as an Argentine cooks it.

T-ball = Fiery competition.

You could pass someone on the street, and not even realize that they are the greatest T-ball coach to grace this earth.

Thats what i tell myself, because i would expect if it were not true, throngs of admirers would be suffocating me with plaques, keys to the city and trophies that you have to lift with both hands. I feel that i was that much of a success as a T-ball coach.

It was also the funnest thing ever. It was a bunch of 5 year olds (only a couple of them are pictured here, but they're some of my favorites.) who were learning how to play. I was in charge of teaching them how to bat, specifically, but we all kinda did everything. They would say the funniest things, including calling me "teacher," or saying, "you're my favorite coach in town. I LIKE you." (girl, emma, farthest to the left) or, "coach, my hand is sweaty."

Now that T-ball is through, summer has been a lot of work and a lot of LSAT. The LSAT is like a mighty bronco, that... nevermind. It's tough, but it doesn't seem unbeatable.

In between doing all that, i've done some cool stuff this summer. Like bike riding, hiking, learning how to play tennis, watching fireworks, seeing a destruction derby, and some other stuff that's not coming to my mind right now. Anyways, it really has been a while, and i thought i needed to jump back on the horse, even if it's a little thing.

Never intimidated, getting goals accomplished

My article got published. This is good, because as I was looking at it, I haven't really done anything to put on an application for a while. After 5 or 6 years, being captain and MVP of the water polo team just doesn't seem to really have the clout it used to. Also, on the online addition of the article, it drew quite a response. There is one kid though, by the alias of Steve, who is hell-bent on discrediting it. I am a little on edge every time I meet a new steve now in life. Or perhaps it's a friend- et tu, blake? Anyways, it was a kick in the pants to see it be published.

Also, to bolster that hypothetical application, I started to become more great hearted and noble. That is, I signed up to tutor a 12 year old kid how to read. He can already read, it's just that he's behind the level he should be at, so I go to this senior center twice a week to help him out. Thankfully, there's a routine and materials so I kinda feel like I know what I'm doing. It's funny, but even though I started out doing it just so I could throw something on a resume, I'm enjoying it a lot. I think about how I can help him out when I'm not even there. Usually, I'm conceiving ways I can get him to do a particular thing better. My latest struggle was getting him to sit up straight when he writes, because his penmanship struggles. I would try telling him to do it, but that wasn't really working, so then I decided to have him throw a pencil onto a notebook on the other side of the table. He sat upright and did it so it landed pretty close. Then I made him assume his usual writing position with his face in the crook of his elbow and throw it again. I was extremely pleased to see that he missed it pretty bad, because if it landed right on the notebook, I would've looked pretty foolish. Probably would've swatted it out of mid-air or something drastic like that. Today I wanted him to work on P's, so I told him that and made him write sentences like "Pippen powered up the photon pan." Subtle, I know.

As an intriguing side-note, the other day he said he 'had' to text his amiga back (generally I allow no cell-phone usage unless it's his mom) because she had just broken up with her boyfriend (he's 12, in 7th grade). I thought, "wow, this will probably be hilarious to figure more about, perhaps even worthy of my blog." (it was!) So, with all the sincerity I could muster, I inquired, "well, how long have they been going out?" "Like, 8 dates. She's crushed." "Ooooh, I can imagine." But he helped me imagine. "They were really serious, she was going to go on a skiing vacation with his family, but he just sent her a letter in the mail saying that he never wanted to see her again!"

WOOOOW! She was going on vacation with them? They went on dates outside of school? And what an outrageous break-up! . Had I even hit puberty by then? Does my kid I'm tutoring realize he has put himself in the friend zone and never stands a chance now?

I was talking it over later with AJ, and we decided that it's that stupid disney channel showing its teeth. My children will never watch that channel as long as I draw breath (If they ever claim they're bored, I'll just throw in "Greatest moments of BYU football history" and help give them a righteous upbringing). Because kids nowadays grow up watching 10 year olds on TV having 'relationships' and dramatic breakups, they think they must need them too. Also, cell phones for 12 year olds. So many things wrong with that in my mind. I was telling the kid I tutor that I don't want to give my future, attractive and brilliant children cell phones until they're 16. To which he looked at me with all the depth of expression his soul could muster, and warned me- They'll be losers! Oh well. Just as the prophets warned future generations of persecution, when my children find this, let them know- you'll be losers.

Another thing, besides trying to get good grades, that I did for resume building was intern at a law firm. Also, I wanted to see more about law before suffocating in debt trying to get a degree. It, too, turned out to be way interesting to me. The guy who I 'worked' for ('twas naught but an unpaid internship) turned out to be this really chill 31 year old, and every time I'd go into the office we would just sit and talk for a half hour or so about law or BYU football. And he also gave me some significant stuff to do so that I'd get a good feel for it. He even took me over to his house to eat dinner with him and his family. Anyways, I was a bit sad that I wouldn't be doing that next semester.

As for my love life, well, BYU only has the Las Vegas bowl and then it will be another lonely 8 months until it starts up again. I was there to see a righteous victory over Utah though. The Utes made a huge comeback in the 4th quarter to force overtime, but were further plagued by the fact by the fact that they hadn't really made it into the inzone and had kicked about 30 field goals. So it came to a 3rd down for the Lord's university, and Hall threw a bullet to George, who shook off defenders to run alone into the inzone. I was on the second row and was able to jump on the field and join in the celebrating pretty quick.

The Magnus Corpus

I wrote this recently, we'll see if it ever gets published... I think it might be the best thing i've written.

On May 22nd, 1856, after expressing to Senator Charles Sumner that he thoroughly disapproved of his recent address, Senator Preston Brooks took hold of his thick cane and began to mercilessly beat Mr. Sumner about the head until his cane broke and Mr. Sumner lay unconscious. Doubtless, since that time the number of cane beatings in the U.S. Senate has sharply declined, but it seems that some of the vocal leaders of Conservatism are clamoring for a return to such behavior. These men and women, who work to polarize all who will listen to them, are undermining the respectability of conservative reasoning at a time when the underrepresented right is rising up to combat a number of liberal agenda items. If real change is to occur, the canes need to be put away, and the zero-sum thinking needs to give way to discussion and understanding.

As mentioned, it is not scholars and intellectuals leading the masses in this grassroots movement. Although their ideas are carefully penned and widely disseminated, they are largely ignored. Instead, the majority of conservative America has been swept away by the more conspicuous voices of the right; that is, the pundits who jockey for popularity by taking ever more divisive and inflammatory stances. They have disastrously boiled an entire ideology down to nothing more than catchy slogans, attacks, and derisive commentary, which are then parroted by those who listen to them. So it is that “the news” of yesteryear has been replaced by a face, red with anger, shrieking about the injustice and illegality of the latest ploy of the amoral left. The goals of these critics are not open debate and an exchange of ideas. Rather, their purpose is to establish t hat only their ideas can be accepted by a rational mind and that those who think otherwise should be ridiculed.

Regrettably, recent news has shown that this petty behavior is not only confined to the Rush Limbaughs, Glenn Becks and Sean Hannitys of this world. During a recent address in front of a joint session of congress, President Obama had a professional lawmaker scream at him during his speech, saying, “That’s a lie!” and, “Not true!” among other unprecedented interjections. As if it was not shameful enough to scream during a speech, congressional protocol was also breached w hen laughter met President Obama's discourse and a congressman mocking his assertions made scornful signs to hold up for all to see. Thankfully, he didn’t take a cane to work that day.

Yet when these actions are considered, it is apparent that they are no more than an echo of their constituents. The media was recently set ablaze when conservatives flooded town hall meetings to shout down members of Congress debating health care. They were so effective in strangling dialogue that some of these meetings had to be canceled or delayed. This behavior surely is strongly correlated to the immense popularity of the pseudo political pundits and their outlandish behavior. After being saturated with the belligerent attitudes of these commentators long enough, it is only natural that their mode of conduct would soon be imitated. Now, even though this type of behavior will certainly command the attention of media outlets, real protest must be carried out in a more civilized way if any type of change is to effectively sweep the nation.

So, as one possible remedy to the current situation, those who are Republican could consider the positive points of the Democrats. Despite what Mr. Limbaugh likely thinks, there are many good ideas supported by the other party. By becoming more open, it is likely that the Republican Party would attract more votes and regain power in Washington. To those who think this is just a hopeless fantasy, think of the success of George W. Bush in propagating compassionate conservatism, or, in other words, conservatism that adopts various liberal goals.

An even more electrifying idea to change the nature of the current debate would be to turn off the television and read the news. There is something to be said about reading the news instead of watching it. The careful presentation of a written article invites more thoughtful consideration of what is being presented, and often causes the readers to form their own opinion instead of passively adopting the outlook of the person who is presenting it. Simply, conservative America needs to begin to choose informative over inflammatory news.

Now while reading the news, one may come to dislike certain actions of the government or a political party, and this is acceptable. A natural byproduct of the two party system we have is dissension, and it is healthy for our nation. It can, and should, then be manifested in the form of petitions, articles, marches, rallies and letters to members of congress. Or voting! Perhaps then, with a bit of luck and a great deal less sensationalism, the conservative movement can have some lasting effect. We can then save shouting at the other side for college football games, where it belongs.

BYU

So BYU pulled out all the grit and determination it was capable of and beat Oklahoma, who was then ranked third. We had a huge party where we stuffed everyone we know into our room and screamed and watched it together. As only the most epic of games must be, BYU ended it with an 8 minute, 90 yard drive to win it all. We flooded into the streets with a couple hundred other students and chanted and sang and than someone brought speakers to make it a dance party.

I don't think it would be outrageous to call it the best day of my life. In fact, it was. I will probably lie through my teeth on my wedding day, because deep down i will know that the day BYU beat Oklahoma was probably a little bit better.

In other news, my classes are excellent. Though i have a hunch one of my spanish professors is crazy. He may or may not have condoned human sacrifice on the second day of class. It should be interesting.

Knights of Cydonia

So I'm gonna throw on here the link to the best footage i have seen of anything.http://www.clevver.com/music/video/27108/muse-knights-of-cydonia.html

I certainly liked this band before i saw this, but after seeing it, they just might be my favorite band now.

Just as a side note, while listening to this song before seeing the video, i always envisioned someone just riding a horse as fast as he could while the music is being played. I suppose Gustof Von Musterhauser had exactly that same vision...

John Muir was onto something

So i finished my application to the Marriott school of business about a week ago. I've pretty much decided that even if i do get in, I'm not going to go through with it, but just rather get a spanish major. Though i've already discovered that business classes are extremely useful and practical in the business world, and that spanish classes are not extremely useful and practical outside of classrooms, it seems the better fit for my life plans. Besides that, a Spanish major seems so interesting. Its like a literature, history and language major all in one. Since i tested out of those silly sixteen credits of grammar and such, it isn't quite as much learning about the nuances of the spanish language as one would think.

Besides that, the pre-law office finally made its impression that it doesn't mention what i major in, they just want good grades.

The 4th of July was just yesterday. My dad, mom and i went to the usual ward BBQ, which was pretty fun. Then we basically just hung out. The day before though we went to Muir woods with our cousins. It was a pretty casual deal, we hiked through (hike: stroll along a cement path with my sandals on) the trail they had there and looked at all the pretty things around us. I was particularly impressed though, that i can now handle a baby without it looking like im holding a football. Jake and Melissa have their little Rushton that they let me hold. I have been notoriously bad with not knowing what to do with little babies, even though i like them. I mantain that i'm the victim though. I've never had a baby cousin or a baby brother or anything like that.

And on a different topic, after much fasting, prayer and deep meditation, along with about 5 different grocery stores and 14 dollars, I've determined that IBC is the best root beer out there. Seth, Madi and I all went around to a bunch of stores and bought 17 different kinds of root beer and had a very official root beer tasting test. We came to the joint decision that IBC was the best, followed by A&W (my actual favorite), Henry Winehards, and some german name that was pretty good too. This week we're going to determine if you can tell the difference between Pepsi and Coca Cola.

Oh, and in the news recently, Michael Jackson died. I always thought he was a bit creepy and never did really like any of his songs, except for the one about billie jean, or whatever it was. But all of the sudden everyone my age has been acting like they've been lifelong fans. Weird... Or maybe they actually have been lifelong fans, which really creeps me out.

Bucket 1

I've always heard the cliche things about how a man feels about his first car, but i thought that it was just an empty sterotype. Recently though, the state started giving out a 1,000 dollars for cars that can't pass a smog check (recession? what recession?). Needless to say, my family jumped at the opportunity and handed the ol' 1988 toyota corolla over to the state and cashed their grand. I do not harbor any hard feelings, it was time to say goodbye. It was funny though, The day before we were going to take it in, i was came home from work and i was standing there looking at the car, and much like saying goodbye to a dear friend, i felt a sudden emptiness in my heart that echoed and resonated in the secret chambers of my soul. It had been a good car. I kept it floored wherever i went, that was the only way to get it moving. It was the most forgiving stick i have ever seen in my life, and its sheepskin covered seats always accomadated my friends and brother. It had seen its battles too, bearing scars from where it had been keyed, kicked and dinged. Dearest to me though were the many bumper stickers that emblazoned the trunk, bumper and window. I had 'Bush/Cheney '04', 'Viva Bush!', 'In 'N Out', 'Ygnacio Valley Athletics', 'Brigham Young University', 'Water Polo' and possibly some others. My brother named it bucket 1 while i was on my mission. 1988 tan corolla, there is your eulogy.

For the first time that i can think of, I'm pretty excited for summer to end. It's kinda just work, come home, work again. I like BYU life a lot more.