How's that for gratitude?

I dragged took my younger sister to a couple thrift stores today. While we were looking around, I found several things that I thought would be perfect for her--the culminations of her heart's every last desire, in short. She--ungrateful wretch--shot down all my ideas.

First, I absolutely knew beyond a doubt that she had been lusting for a jewelry box with a wooden mallard atop the lid. A wooden mallard--how cool is that? She didn't want it.

OK, fine, so she had a thing against ducks. Whatever. I found another box that could function as a jewelry box if she wanted, and it offered more generous space to boot. It was a cigar box that had been finished off with some sort of sealant and a painting of clowns on the top. Clowns with sad faces, red noses, and one with a receding hairline. It was only moderately creepy. Again, this was a no-go.

We quickly passed over the statue with the vacant eyes and wide smile, and there I saw what I was confident she would love. Right next to the '70s-era owl statue with the glaring green eyes, I found a statue of two people. They were locked in a kiss. Hey, passion's cool, and besides, it would lend instant class to whatever room it was put in, especially when your gaze drifts down from their faces to notice that the guy is totally groping the chick's boob.

Suffice it to say, she didn't want that one either. Sigh. At least I have a few more months to come up with a suitable birthday gift.

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Now playing: Rise Against - Paper Wings
via FoxyTunes

Job-related thoughts

Scattered. Apologies. The brain vomit needs to go somewhere.

Since I graduated with my master's, I fell quite by accident into adjuncting. Before that point, I swore I wouldn't do it. It was poor paying, too much work, and too up-in-the-air. But I had a master's in a liberal art and little job experience, and the offer fell into my lap with the department chair practically begging me to work there. I took it.

I've sworn I'd leave it multiple times over. For one semester, I did. And I came back. This semester, midway through, I swore again that I'd leave. And I've resigned myself to not quitting, to keep teaching. I figured last time when I quit that it wasn't actually my job that was the biggest stressor but several glaring issues with my personal life. Granted, those factors affected my teaching ability, but I've learned to distinguish where the problems were and correctly identify what needs "fixing" through life decisions.

This time it's different. I was ready to teach and am willing to teach--but it may not be financially viable this time. I need a "real" job, one that doesn't leave me high and dry when budget cuts crimp the campus, one that doesn't leave me scrambling to find employment to supplement my current employment when I only get a couple classes.

One change at a time, I told myself. That may get me nowhere but the poorhouse. Onward with the job applications then. The market sucks, but if I get nowhere in the search, I'm still at least committed to two classes (one of which may or may not make...) and a bit of pocket change from my hourly, minimum-wage tutoring gig. And if the search is successful, well, I have no doubt that my department will find any number of willing, able, and under-employed workers to take those classes. My boss at the tutoring gig is more mentor than boss, and she's been very supportive in terms of "if you work for us, I'd love to have you, but if you find something better, great!"

No job will be perfect; I understand that. But a livable income and job security are not unreasonable expectations.

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Now playing: Marilyn Manson - Tainted Love
via FoxyTunes

O RLY?

So... I got an e-mail from the coach of one of the athletes in my remedial writing class. He said this student had informed him that he was currently making a C in my class as finals week approaches, and could I verify this information?

Oh. Man.

I nixed several responses like "Are you freakin' kidding me?" and "He has never been on course for a C in my class" or the short, sweet, "WTF?! Seriously?!" and definitely bypassed the flippant "Oh, good one" that crossed my mind.

I settled on opening the e-mail with the more tactful, "Unfortunately, that information is NOT correct," followed by enough info to convey that this student has all but flunked already.

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Now playing: Thrice - All That's Left
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How not to impress your instructor

Student asking, in preparation for their 100-point test on Friday: "What if I show up hungover from the night before? 'Cause I probably will be."

My response: "Not my problem."

It would be a shame if a silly thing like a 100-point exam got in the way of college partying.

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Now playing: HIM - Wicked Game
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A riddle

Q: How do you ensure your students don't get perfect scores on their easy quiz?

A: Write a difficult question like, "After you have printed out this quiz, write your name and draw a smiley face."

Frustrating.

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Now playing: Mae - Suspension
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There's a new one

I have had increasingly less to say about teaching as time goes on, due in large part to few things striking me as particularly novel anymore. If you factor out the semester I took off, this is the start of my fourth year of teaching; with the time off accounted for, it's the latter half of my third year.

Even the more egregious student behavior seems blase after you've seen it a few times.

That said, never before yesterday have I been in the middle of the class, lecturing, no less, writing on the board, and been interrupted by a student coming into my classroom asking for directions. From me.

At first, I thought she might have been one of my students, straggling in very, very late, an hour into a 75-minute class. She looked at me expectantly, like she had a question, and granted, I do not readily recognize student faces yet, so I asked what she needed. She asked where to find a location for a room and building I did not recognize as being on the campus. I was a little surprised by the interruption of class for directions, so instead of telling her we were in the middle of class, I instead said I didn't recognize the location. She pulled out her planner and showed me the class name, room, and time she was looking for.

"Oh," I told her. "That's this room. In half an hour."

"OK," she said, and walked right back out.

I have to give that class credit for not bursting into laughter as I would have been tempted to do were I watching the proceedings. Still, this incident is one of several signs I've been seeing that seem to suggest a more oblivious student population than previous semesters. I may have more stories yet.

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Now playing: On The Last Day - At The Breaking Of The World
via FoxyTunes

Too bad my birthday has already passed...

Ah, the Internet has everything. I've joked about wanting a "WTF" stamp for student papers.

Turns out I could have one if I wanted, thanks to the creative folks at Etsy.

Oh man. And there's "FAIL" and "epic FAIL."

I dare not. I have nothing near tenure and might actually use them...

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Now playing: Bayside - Kellum
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From the "duh" files

I heard this story on the news the other night: The city of Brookville, FL has enacted a new dress code. City workers must meet these unreasonable criteria: wear deodorant, wear underwear, and make sure that when they wear underwear, it does not show.

And there went my relocation and new career goals.

Honestly, that is such an imposition. My armpits are my own business, and geez, but do they plan to do a monthly underwear inspection to follow up?

Righteous indignation aside (the mayor apparently feels the underwear rule "takes away freedom of choice"), my response is one of wry bemusement. The mayor has a point in that choice bit. However, it's clear that this would never have become an issue if it weren't for people abusing that choice. If you wanna go commando, by all means do. That doesn't mean you should go around flashing folks. As much as this pains me to admit, the apparent need for stating the obvious in dress standards fits with this generation's obliviousness to etiquette.

And as a college instructor who has seen her fair share of thongs and boxers*, I hereby suggest all college and university campuses endorse a similar rule.

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Now playing: Chuck Ragan and Austin Lucas - Hold My Bed
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* - I have seriously had to repress the urge to tell said fashionplates to resist the ultra-low-rise jeans and/or just hitch up their britches. In one case, my fingers were twitching to fix one young lady's shirt as she leaned over her (male) classmate's desk. I did not need to know just how color-coordinated her outfit was....

Sounds about right...

As an instructor of largely 18 and 19 year olds, I can only respond to this article with one word: duh.

Yup, Livescience confirms: Teen Self-Esteem May Be Too High.

Seriously, that's news?

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Now playing: Bright Eyes - Poison Oak
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*Really* now...

Stories like this are ridiculous: people getting trampled for sales. I don't know what this year's must-buy items are (and don't care to know, for that matter), but ye gods, what is worth trampling folks or, in another incident, pulling a gun on someone, to get? Can you still give a gift in good conscience knowing that someone died in order for you to get it?

Consumerism, for as much of a hold as it has on even my life, still baffles me. At the end of the day, folks, the things you buy are just things. They won't make up for 364 days of not being there for your child/significant other/family. Sorry.

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Election madness

Here's one for the WTF files: a recent poll asks which presidential candidate respondents would 1) prefer teach their children, and 2) sit down and watch football with them.

...Because, y'know, the way to pick a president is by whether or not you can bond over a bunch of burly guys squabbling over an oddly shaped ball. If that by itself weren't asinine enough, the comments from people within the article are: one thinks McCain's stories would be interesting, but another thinks he'd have a fiery temper if his team lost. A 29-year-old thinks he'd have "more in common" with Obama, though, and another poll respondent thinks the younger candidate is "someone you could be comfortable and at ease with."

Thank you, pollsters. Were I planning to vote in November, I feel comfortable knowing that the media have done an adequate job of informing me on the important issues. Actually, not quite. There are a few things I need to know more about before I could in good conscience cast my hypothetical ballot.

As a concerned citizen, I must know their stances on caffeine. If McCain's not a coffee drinker, that's a deal breaker. If Obama likes a little bit of coffee in his creamer, it's a no-go. Furthermore, McCain's look really isn't doing it for me; my candidate needs style. And cute shoes. Lastly, and definitely not least, I must know where they both stand on the issue of soapbox derby racing. It's crucial to the running of this country.

I would like to know more about their stances on kittens, doilies, NASCAR, and wrasslin', but I do understand the constraints of time and will try to make do with what information has already been provided.

I'm flattered. Really.

During my first year of grad school, I worked as an administrative assistant, meaning that I did any number of duties around the department from copies to sorting mail to proofreading a couple profs' manuscripts to processing rejections for our literary journal.

One afternoon, one of the young-ish, shaggy-haired philosophy profs leaned over my desk, flashed me a brilliant smile, and said with all appearances of sincerity, "[Twit], did I ever mention that you're my favorite person?"

"Oh?" I asked absent-mindedly, half pre-occupied with whatever task I was doing. "Why's that?"

The answer came in a huge stack of books with selected chapters marked for photocopying.

Flash forward a couple years and a master's degree later.

I've accepted two teaching gigs* teaching two separate courses at two different campuses for a total of four courses**. The two campuses are about an hour apart, so I teach at one on MWF and teach (and tutor) at the other on TR. It works out pretty well, in theory. I'll keep you posted on the progress.

So, a few weeks ago, I got my schedule hammered out for MWF. TR courses hadn't been assigned, but I had the other department chair's word that she was "working on" the course schedule. MWF promises to be good--neither class is too early, which is good for the students and good for Ms. I'm-no-good-without-a-pot-of-coffee-in-my-bloodstream Twit. By the way, my supervisor-to-be told me, we had to open one more section of the class than we anticipated, due to enrollment demands. You come highly recommended, so we thought we'd offer it to you first, since we couldn't give you any other sections before. Peachy. It'd actually work out better in terms of pay, only... it was TR. I thanked her profusely, explained that I had other scheduling conflicts, and gas prices to consider, but again, thanks.

A couple weeks ago, I talked with the department chair for my TR schedule. We set it up with few hitches, and she seemed quite glad to have me back on board. Today, a voicemail. A couple courses were still in need of instructors, "and I want good instructors--would you be able to take the 102 on MWF at...?" Barring that, could I recommend anyone else, other instructors, people I know from grad school, etc.? She entrusts both my teaching and my judgment. A little daunting, there.

It's flattering, that they both have faith enough in my teaching abilities. And I know it's nothing to sneeze at, being offered more classes than I could possibly handle (or schedule, for that matter) whilst still maintaining my sometimes-fragile sense of sanity. But egads, this adjunct life is a strange one. I'm getting better at knowing my limits, and I also know that if I had a family to support, I'd be scrambling for every class that was available to me. Right now, though, I've got the same course load as a member of full-time faculty***--I don't need to add to it.


* - If it'll help you, dear readers, not to make the rash assumption that I am utterly insane, I will not mention that I still work part-time as a tutor. So ignore this tiny print, and stop brandishing that straitjacket at me.
** - Total enrollment count: 86. Course type: composition. Sanity prognosis: poor. Again, away with that straitjacket. I don't need it. Yet.
*** - Heavier, actually, I would argue, given that full-timers get to teach literature courses, which have lower enrollment caps and different grading demands.****
**** - I'm really not whining right now. It just sounds like it. One degree or another, I will get my butt back in grad school for a terminal degree. And dude, my asterisks have asterisks. How meta is that.

"What you don't know could hurt you"

So proclaimed a headline in a religious community newsletter the other day. The article came about 10 years too late to do me any good, but I now know of the dangers lurking on the Internet.

As a responsible blogger, it behooves me to pass these on before you too while away too many hours on the best timesuck since Tetris.

I originally intended to do that clever-bloggy-post-excerpts-and-add-witty-commentary thing, but, um, the wit's not with me tonight. And the article writes its own punchlines; the writer, I'm guessing, actually went online all of maybe one time. I leave all grammatical idiosyncrasies intact, and no, in case you are wondering, it's not written by children or adolescents.

One of the most attractive reasons for the popularity of these electronic landmines is that the person who is using them can remain totally anonymous. You have no real idea who is on the other side of the screen. It could be a child molester or a 5 year old.

and

The other totally dangerous place [besides chat rooms] is YouTube. This is a website where people can post what ever video they made or find so other people can view. I hate it. I don't hate the idea and the application but I hate the way it is done. For example, Go search for a topic and you will get few interesting videos to watch. Click on one and watch it, and when you are don the application pops up few "similar" videos. So you watch few more. Every time you click on one it gives you more. It is like a drug addict, "Just One More, Pleeeease". What is also bad about it is you have no idea what comes up next. You could start with few cute videosabout animals and end up with a raunchy and totally inappropriate sexually filled video. And this is available for EVERYONE including children without any supervision or the least amount of decency what so ever.

Heh. Love the last line. Children without supervision and decency definitely shouldn't ever be introduced to such things. Of course, that's hardly the responsiblity of Youtube or chatroom moderators, now, is it?

This is all, of course, brought to you by the same folks who are experts on the evils of Harry Potter without ever having touched the books. They're completely out of touch with the very people they should be reaching, if the dangers of the books or the Internet are as drastic as they make them out to be, and no number of "totally"s in an essay like that is going to make the least bit of difference.

So this is progress.

As a self-proclaimed nerd, I should have been happy with an article on Newsweek on the increasing social acceptibility of nerd girls. And yet.

First description: girls in tank tops and shorts, with special attention given to a cute blonde. Next, the article demonstrates how well adjusted and comfortable with their nerd status these cuties are:

The Nerd Girls may not look like your stereotypical pocket-protector-loving misfits—their adviser, Karen Panetta, has a thing for pink heels—but they're part of a growing breed of young women who are claiming the nerd label for themselves. In doing so, they're challenging the notion of what a geek should look like, either by intentionally sexing up their tech personas, or by simply finding no disconnect between their geeky pursuits and more traditionally girly interests such as fashion, makeup and high heels.
...
These girl geeks aren't social misfits; their identities don't hinge on outsider status. They may love all things sci-tech, but first and foremost they are girls—and they've made that part of their appeal.

On behalf of the nerd girls who do not require pink bows to legitimize their social standing*, I offer a loud, frustrated, "ARGH!" Yes, it's cool that geek is chic right now. Lovely. And I appreciate that it's acceptable to be a, you know, smart girl with interests beyond make-up and babies. Thanks for the approval, pop culture. I was waiting for that in breathless anticipation. But why, oh why, must (presumably heterosexual) sex appeal factor in here? Why is their social well-being contingent on how comfortable they are making themselves pretty?

It's frustrating that it's still not enough to get by on simply being smart--at least, not if you have two X chromosomes.

* - I admit, in the interest of honesty, that I am no social butterfly. I do not feel this makes me any less well-adjusted. I have a few close friends who are nerdly in their own ways. I like it like that. I could, I suppose, put more effort into both being more outoing and fussing with my appearance, which may increase my social standing. However, the former is tiring and uncomfortable for this introvert, and the latter smacks of superficiality. My friends are not my friends because of my clothing or make-up, and vice versa. If there's anyone I'm trying to impress at the end of the day, it's those who are close to me and those whom I respect, not the dictates of pop culture.

Goddamnit

Created by OnePlusYou - Free Online Dating

How the fuck did I score higher on this quiz than both Cranky Prof and Ambulance Driver? That's some whacked out shit. I mean, really, god damn.

. . . No, seriously, how?

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Now playing: Lacuna Coil - Heaven's a Lie
via FoxyTunes

Who needs satire. . .

. . . when you've got election coverage?

If Clinton were Obama, she'd have left her church based on the remarks made by the pastor.

Puh-lease. Enough of the sanctimonious "I'm patrioticker than you" bullshit.

Oh. Wait. It's election season, innit?

If I were a Democrat, I'd be a little worried about the mainstream media coverage of the Democratic Party's in-fighting garnering so much attention. As is, I'm disgusted by the media's treatment of the election overall.

It's sad that it's taken so long for us to face an election where the primary contenders are not just stodgy white men. The novelty aspect has been overdone, though, and the candidates have almost been reduced to demographic figureheads. Why else would each article following the primaries break down exit poll results into how many white women voted Clinton and how many blacks voted Obama? Surely (hopefully?) those are not the only factors people use in determining their votes. I voted for neither because the only reason I could cast my vote for one of them was if I judged them on a different set of criteria than I would a comparable white guy. That, to my mind, would be its own form of discrimination (a latter-day separate but equal scenario). I digress.

So there's the pigeonholing aspect of the election. Then there's the catty "he said, she said" sniping. Seriously, how is it relevant to policy whether there's a flag pin on a candidate's lapel? That brouhaha can at least be blamed on the pundits. But what of the childish, "I'd have done __________ different because I'm more prouder of my country than you, so nyah"? At the end of the day, even the most open-minded people have close-minded bigots they're acquainted with. You just have to quietly hide your cringes when they go to speak; they may run off at the mouth, but otherwise they're decent folks who pay taxes and give to the community.

It's a non-issue.

If the media spent as much analytical energy conveying candidates' plans and voting records, we'd have a much more informed voting populace. An educated populace is crucial to democracy, and a media apparatus that does not contribute to said education is complicit in any damage to the nation committed as a result. If I were a Democrat, I'd insert a Bush-bashing remark here. I'm not, though, and I know enough well-informed folks who voted for the guy back in 2000.

The DNC thinks I'm a Democrat, though. Sent me another survey/plea for donation mailing. I have an entire four lines to voice my suggestions for the Party's direction. That's double the space they gave me last time! In exchange, I think I'll double the amount of money I contributed back then.*

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Now playing: The Suicide Machines - Stand Up
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* - $0 x 2 still equals $0.

Sunday Scribblings: I just don't get it.

This week's Sunday Scribblings theme is "I just don't get it." It's been up since Thursday, and I've been puzzling over how to write that in a post for about as long.

So after much puzzling and mentally composing and deleting and re-composing, I came up with it: sports. I really don't get sports. It's not because I never did well in gym class. It's not that I'm averse to what looks like brutality sometimes.

I don't get the energy with which people support their teams, no matter how poorly they play. One of the neighbors goes so far as to lower to half-mast the flag with our football team's logo when they lose a game (which happens frequently). I've seen otherwise-mature professors leave taunting messages on each other's chalkboards during college football season.

I don't get the draw of huge extravaganzas like that Really Big Football game in January (you know, the one where a few years ago, an entertainer lost her shirt and sent the FCC into a puritanical frenzy). At least that event is only one day; then you have events like the Current Ongoing Basketball Frenzy that lead to outright sniping between people rooting for different teams (and many nasty, antagonistic Facebook wall posts and status updates). The vast majority of people invested in those games are mere spectators; most will only watch the games on TV (which, by the way, interferes with regular programming for some of us less sports-inclined types...). I would be willing to concede that actually attending a game could exciting, with a lot of energy in the stands, but to passively watch on a square box in your living room?

Those at least are games with action. What about that game where the competitors walk around, hit a ball, walk some more, and hit the ball again, until it's dropped into a little cup beneath a flag? Seriously, how is that entertaining or engaging? Or as suspenseful as the high speed of car races are, doesn't it get boring to watch cars drive around in circles after a while?

Serious yawn-fest. I think I'll go back to my book. Now that's exciting stuff ;).

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Now playing: Brand New - Sowing Season
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Multimedia Friday: On the issue of environmentalism

I swung by the grocery store today to pick up something for my grandmother. I was so proud of myself for finally remembering to grab a paper bag out of my trunk to re-use. Nine times out of ten, I forget to take the final step between toting them around and using them. It's worth a nickel back at most places, but that's barely relevant--plastic comes from petroleum, you know, and that's a finite supply we're dealing with.

So, I bring my paper bag into the store and put it on the conveyor belt. I'll give the clerk credit; he didn't ask, as one cashier did, whether I intended to use the bag(s) (because I brought them just for kicks?). I pay for the item, grab the bag by the handle, and head out.

Only outside the store do I note my cashier's diligence: he placed my paper bag very carefully inside a new plastic bag.

Feh.

That incident reminded me, in a loosely associative way, of a humorous clip on Youtube from environmental activist Derrick Jensen (his name's popped up on this blog before). This particular clip is on how many environmentalists it takes to change a light bulb. It's pretty funny, I suppose, if you find leftist politics interesting . . . and it's even funnier if you've participated in them. I particularly like that he's willing to have a good-humored chuckle at the ridiculousness of what seems like sectarian division amongst people who profess to have a common goal. Does it apply to right-wing political movements? I don't know, haven't participated in any, but from the outside, they seem a little more cohesive. Without further ado, the answer to that timeless question: How many environmentalists does it take to change a light bulb?



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Now playing: Against Me! - Those Anarcho Punks Are Mysterious...
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That was unexpected...

The Google gods have apparently chosen to favor me. Or, more accurately, by some odd fluke, I included one word in my last post that sent my hit count spiking. One word. One name, actually, and I'm not typing it in this blog again. Stupid chat bot.

See what that did in terms of site traffic?

I shouldn't complain. Exposure is exposure. This feels... tawdry, though, even though I didn't do it deliberately. It's almost as bad as if I'd invoked any number of drug-addled or has-been pop culture figure for the sake of attention, like I've compromised my bloggerly integrity.

But mostly, for the sake of those 100+ folks who've been googling a celebrity gossip chat bot, I wish I'd sharpened my critique of the concept of chatting with people who aren't actually people about matters that have no relevance to the real world whatsoever.

Bah humbug.

On a lighter note, I can only dream of one day generating enough content to get search strings like these.

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Now playing: The Broadways - Upton
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A pill for every ill, it seems

In an attempt to bring some content back to this site, I tooled around a few of my geekily-interesting sites (they'd be the links under the "get informed" heading on the right hand side) to see what was going on in the world. There's always the election, but I've been pissed about that for the last few weeks and haven't quite worked the "frothing at the mouth with rage" elements out of that post yet...

So I gravitated toward the less overtly political side--Live Science, Arts and Letters Daily, SciTech Daily. Ah, SciTech yielded this gem from National Geographic: "Early Birds, Night Owls: Blame Your Genes." A study found that yes indeed, genetics affected people's schedules. Fairly obvious, it seems, but hey, sometimes we need science to prove the obvious.

What got me was some info at the end of the article:

The research may lead to new treatments for people suffering from sleep disorders, the researchers said.

"Such treatments could potentially be used to reset a patient's 24-hour cycle to more sociable hours, so they wouldn't find themselves awake watching TV in the wee hours."

This would probably be done with drugs that target the circadian clock pathway, Brown said.

It's quite a leap to go from wired sleep patterns to "sleep disorder," I thought. So I checked the authority of all known knowledge: Wikipedia. Sleep disorders include things like teeth grinding, night terrors, sleep apnea, sleepwalking. OK, sleep walking, sure. Night terrors, it's possible. Or this: delayed sleep phase syndrome is described as "a chronic disorder of the timing of sleep, peak period of alertness, hormonal and other rhythms. People with DSPS tend to fall asleep well after midnight and also have difficulty waking up in the morning."

Yep, it's a syndrome, along with shyness, caffeinism, oppositional defiant disorder. I could name more ridiculous "syndromes," but I don't have a copy of the DSM-V at hand. A few years ago, I had time to kill between classes and spent the time in the library (social avoidance syndrome?). The reference section had any number of fascinating topics from mythology to psychology. At the time, I flipped through the psychological diagnostic manual and realized I could diagnose myself with approximately half of the disorders within its pages.

I don't mean to suggest that there are no such things as mental disorders; I know enough people with depression and a range of other problems to say otherwise. But when we're at the point where there's a pill and a treatment for any behavior that deviates however slightly from the dominant paradigm, I think we need to pause and consider the ramifications (the Boston Tea Party would have been a prime act of oppositional defiance disorder, wouldn't it? And that American Revolution. Pity it was so long ago; a pill could've quelled that impulse nicely). There are points at which such behaviors do interfere with daily living (I could probably easily land a diagnosis of social anxiety disorder, and my anxiety has gotten in my way by spells, but I can work through them with some--OK, a lot--of effort and much trembling of the hands), but I think it's dangerous to be so quick to medicate. Pills can easily become crutches if they're allowed, or worse still, maintainers of a predetermined status quo.

Besides, the world needs its night owls. Life doesn't just shut down at 10 p.m. We can't all be extroverts; someone has to listen. And if we're going to label caffeine as addiction worthy, I'd like to see Television Addiction added to the list of diagnosable disorders. And I hope they never find a pill for "oppositional defiance disorder." That just sounds like something straight out of Orwell or Huxley.
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Now playing: Lars Frederiksen & The Bastards - 1%
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