The End

Hello everyone,

This will probably be my last posting to this blog. I'm not really a blogger; I'm more of a reader and English graduate student. Writing this blog has been interesting and fun. Although, I don't imagine that I'd attract too many readers in the real world. When I started the blog, I thought of veiling my own life through the thoughts and actions of two cancerous growths in my brain: Freddy Frueger and Albert Einstein. That only lasted about two weeks. I quickly devolved into writing about the goings-on in my life firsthand. For those of you out there that have diligently read this blog, thank you.

My last post will really be about the young woman pictured above. She'll probably look at this and grimace, but I thought it would be nice to throw her in the spotlight for a second, especially if this is the last time I have anyone's attention. Her name is Brandie, and I've completely fallen for her. She is the young lady I formally challenged to a game of Jenga last week. She beat me twice, but our third game was all mine (You are going down again next time). To make this short and sweet, I like her quite a lot. Hopefully, she'll let me take her out on the town this weekend even though I just put her photo on my blog.

So long...
Farewell....
Als viedersein to you...
And you and you and you...

The Poster is Huge!

Hello everyone,

My last post was about how excited I was about buying a Doctor Who poster from England. Well, to follow up on that, I received the poster from Royal Air, sent it over to Hobby to custom frame (can you say ex-pen-sive?), then, just two days ago, they called to tell me it was ready to be picked up. So I jetted over there, and what they handed me was the most enormous poster I'd ever seen. And as I was paying for it, I thought to myself, "Do I even want to put this on my wall?" A mental image of going to someone's house and seeing an enormous Steve Urkel or Balki Bartokomous poster crossed my mind. I mean, Doctor Who is a cool show, but do I need to display it as prominently in my home as others do national flags?

Currently, the enormous thing is in my closet, creating quite a traffic jam for my laundry basket, and when I get an apartment this summer, it may or may not go up.

What do you all think? Would it be lame to go over to someone's house and see an enormous friends or Seinfield poster on the wall? You see, old movie posters have that retro thing going on, but do posters of television shows garner that same status? I wonder if there are any people who have 1979 Battlestar Gallactica posters in their homes. Also, what if I get married one day and my wife either accidently breaks it or begins to hate me for making her look at it every day?

Paranioa out.

Board Games and Life

Do you remember when life was simple, eand every day has full of playful potential--completely free of responsibility? I spent countless hours of my childhood playing these (and other) boardgames. I especially liked Mouse Trap. The actual game wasn't fun, but watching the chain reaction was almost as good as the Fourth of July. Just looking at these pictures takes me back to my childhood.

This isn't a very ingenious post, but it does serve a distinct purpose.

I'd like to take this opportunity to challenge a certain young lady to a game of Jenga. You know who you are, and you are gonna drop like the crystal ball at New Years.
Yeah, I said it; what?

Sunday!

Hello everyone,

Today's story involves a 24"X36" poster of this image. The other day, I went online and splurged. I'm sure a few of you out there have done this. But in just one sitting, I bought this poster from a nice store named 10th Planet in Essex, England through our mutual friend the Internet.

The reason this is big news is because I rarely buy posters. Unlike your kid sister who has Justin Timberlake posters sloppily hung all over her walls, when I buy a poster, it's usually a marriage till death. For instance, the last time I bought a poster was in 1999 when Michael Jordan announced his retirement. Just like the MJ poster years before, I'm having this Doctor Who poster custom-framed at Hobby Lobby. So, years from now, my library will have these two posters on the wall for all to see.

I wonder if I'll regret this later? If you had to have a poster or a piece of artwork on your wall for the rest of your life, what would it be?

David Lee

My name might be Mike Gee, but David Lee is the man to be!

If you don't already know, David Lee is the reserve forward for the New York Knicks. The reason he is so amazing, and worthy of your undying love, is because of his improbable quest to the NBA. He attended the University of Florida and went to the NBA the year before they won the Men's NCAA Basketball Championship. He wasn't a superstar in college; he was more like a really solid, quietly-efficient guy. Then, he was selected 30th (last pick) in the first round (after 29 other college and international players) by the New York Knicks--behind New York's other two picks: Channing Frye and Nate Robinson. His athleticism and plyometrics really impressed the NYC scouts, but they never thought he'd be the man.

Well, he's now in his second season in the league and is arguable one of the best forwards in the game. He is 2nd in Field Goal percentage (which means only one other player scores more often than he does), 4th in total rebounding, and 9th in Total Efficiency. That is astounding considering there are more than 450 players in the league. He's got upside, brains, and a good smile.

Also, in front of everyone in his 60+ draft class, including his higher-picked teammates, he has been chosen to be the starting sophmore (second year player) at this year's All-Star Game in Las Vegas.

So, here is to you, David Lee. You represent the little guy (Did I mention he was 6' 9" 245lbs?) who has to work to get where he is.

After writing my paper about the history and importance of the blog, I realized that I have unestimated the blog as a bonafide medium. "I don't read blogs; therefore, blogs aren't important," is what I was thinking. But, apparently, they are. There are people sitting at their computers all over the globe typing their thoughts, linking what they've found to be important, and commenting on each other's pages constantly.

I'm just out of the loop. I feel more like Henry David Thoreau spending years away from the rest of the world, writing down the thoughts that are break dancing across my mind.

This class is making me more aware of this medium, but I doubt I'll truly embrace it any time soon. Do any of you blog for yourselves outside of this class?

A few of my friends read my blog, and my mother asked for this url. Perhaps I just haven't found the good blogs yet. The only one I've ever read is Zach Braff's, which I read for about two weeks after seeing his film Garden State.

Well, happy blogging everyone.

Blogging

Perhaps I'm losing the Fred and Albert motif. Perhaps they were just my flotation device as I got my blogging feet out of the kiddy pool.

Instead of talking about what I did in the last few days from the perspective of cancerous growths in my brain, I feel more like typing and seeing what happens.

I feel like an Olympic diver about to take the plunge of my life--comprehensive finals for my MA in English. Whenever I found out that people don't always pass them and have to retake them, I suddenly put myself in that mindset. "What if I failed? They'd know I was an idiot all along, and I'd have to go back to Texas a failure." But then I thought, "I know a guy who passed them last year. He didn't strike me as insanely intelligent. So I'll just study."

But back to the diving metaphor, I've worked for the last 7 1/2 years to earn my BA and MA; now I've finally worked my way to the end and must give a final performance. Olympic divers dive all day long, and when their big moment comes, they just do what they've always done--dive. So I should just keep studying and writing. And when my big moment comes (in less than two weeks), I'll just jump as far and as high as I can. Whatever happens happens.

Pan's Labyrinth

Hello everyone, I just saw Pan's Labyrinth. Perhaps I misinterpreted the advertisement's for this film, but I left the theater disappointed. The previews and posters give off this foreign, horror film with special effects and bedazzlement. What I got was a two hour drudge through Spain's political history with a young girl who is becoming a princess in a fantasy underworld. Please don't get me wrong; it is a very good movie. It is well made, well written, and the special effects are quite original and engrossing, but when the end credits came up, I felt like I didn't see the film I had been promised. It is sort of like seeing the PG-rated version of Saw.

If you like Spanish (or subtitles), Spainards killing each other, and rather unique fauns and fairies, check out this movie. If you want a horrific, rated-R film, look elsewhere. Oh, and never, never take your children to see this one.

Exhibit C

Here is Exhibit C. It cut off the side of my last post.

In Defense of Billie Piper's Jaw

As if Billie Piper hasn't endured enough ridicule, her jaw has also come into question. Please exam Exhibits A, B, and C before further condemning this poor woman.

In Defense of Billie Piper's Chin

It has recently been said that Billie Piper (the British singer and actress) has a manly chin. In an attempt to swiftly put at end to this much maligned idea, I present Exhibit A and Exhibit B.

If one looks closely, Billie's chin is a small, oval-shaped contour of her quite beautiful face, while Jay Leno's nose (by definition beatiful because of God's divine intervention) appears more like an under-developed appendage trying to free itself from the rest of his face.

It is my deductive claim that, once clearly examined in comparison to male chins, Billie Piper's chin could in no way described as manly. There will be some of you out there that will further challenge my claim, but just before you let your unfounded nonsense put your fingers to the keyboard, please take another look at Exhibit A and Exhibit B.

Long live Billie Piper and her defintely female chin.

Thank you

Another Look at What is Going on in My Head

Hello everyone,

To take another look at what is going on in my head (this time without involving Fred and Albert), I'd like to address my synthetic love life.

For anyone out there reading these posts,you know I've been watching a lot of the new Doctor Who on DVD lately in a secret attempt to avoid doing homework. It took me about three episodes to really get hooked on the show, but something interesting has happened. I'm synthetically in love with Rose Taylor/Billie Piper, who is the female lead of the show and the woman on the right. I've never met her, nor will I probably ever, but I'm totally mesmerized. It is kind of like when you fall in love with the person who sits next to you in class, knowing full well that the relationship that is brewing in your mind will never exist in reality. One day, the Doctor Who DVDs will run out, and Billie and I's relationship will come to a crashing halt.

In the future I may fall in love with a woman I've actually spoken to, but until then, Billie Piper rules my world..... Has anyone ever fallen in love with a celebrity?

I wonder what Fred and Albert think of this.

Blogs!

Here is a list of blogs that I read.

http://whedonesque.com/

http://www.sethgreenonline.com/ask.php

http://www.neilgaiman.com/journal/

http://www.zachbraff.com/

http://www.themovieblog.com/

http://englishlangsfx.blogspot.com/

The Occipital Lobes are Screwed!

Albert's eyes managed to open. He was fully submerged in thin fluid that seeped out of Brain's limbic system. It was a very uncomfortable and disconcerting experience. Incoherent and certainly unhappy, Albert managed to rotate his segmented body around to see just what had happened since he had apparently lost consciousness.

The occipital lobes, which is where Albert accurately guessed he was, were inflamed and possibly lacerated. "This is where the fluid is coming from, but what happened," thought Albert.

No one in sight and no discernable entry or exit points confounded Albert. He could barely see, and what he could reminded him of Brain's cerebellum. But he was smarter than that. He quickly realized that he must have been drugged.

Albert made his way through the fluid to the entry point of the occipital lobes. With great pain and fear, he pressed his way into the damaged lobe to find Brain's ability to see had been compromised. Greens, yellows, and blurred motion (streaming in upside down) was all that came into the lobe.

Albert rubbed his eyes against the membranes, exposing his delicate skin to a very harsh surface. He managed to activate the lobe's core functions by squeezing blood flow away from the lacerated, inner wall, which sufficiently clotted the cells. Albert looked into the neural feed to discover Brain was sitting in front of his television, watching Doctor Who late into the night--again.

Suddenly, Albert re-awoke to find himself on floor of the occipital lobe's inner membrane wall. He had lost consciousness and was feeling the distored, drug-induced dementia all over again.

A day and a half later, Albert awoke a third time. He was tied to some synaptic fiber near the sensory cortex with no way of escape.

Fred, hidden away deep into the frontal lobe, realized that perhaps he had indulged too much this time. "But what will I do tomorrow," danced through his demented mind's eye.

This Time, Albert Has Gone To Far!

While Fred was taking a nap in the frontal lobe, Albert streamed an urgent suggestion into Brain's neural feed.

It read, "If you really want to succeed this semester in class, leave everything non-essential at home. You won't need any DVD's, video games, magazines, or regular clothes. You'll be busy studying for your comprehensive finals, teaching, and studying. It's time you became an adult anyway."

Quite to Fred's surprise, when he awoke from his dream about opening all the Ziploc bag's in Brain's freezer, Brain was driving away from Texas with hardly anything in his car. Where were the season's of Buffy the Vampire Slayer that had kept him company all those long nights at the dorms? Where was the Playstation 2 that befriended him when no one else would?

"This time, Albert has gone too far," yelled Fred as he punched the outer membrane in anger.

Albert quickly slashed into the neural network and sent a rather different urgent message through the neural pathway. "Stop in the Best Buy in Norman and buy season one of Doctor Who and several dvds, and it wouldn't hurt to rent some martial arts films once you reach Edmond."

Helpless to the messages that come in, Brain complied by quickly spending over one hundred dollars on DVDs he didn't know he needed, completely defeating the purpose of leaving everything at home.

It was long until Brain found himself watching DVDs and buying new clothes in his dorm room rather than studying, preparing to teach, or doing anything productive at all.

Albert was unavailable for comment at the time of this writing...

Mike Gee Moving Through Space and Time

Hello everyone,

This blog has been created for an English class at the University of Central Oklahoma. In it, I will narrate how academic and popular culture (referred to as Albert and Fred respectively) are trying to slowly kill each other in order to take over my consciousness (referred to as Brain), ala Spy vs. Spy in a Descartes-like thought experiment.

"I said switch off, Albert", shouted Fred as he made his sluggish way to Brain's neural cortex.

"I can't switch off; I'm downloading syllabus content into Brain's short-term memory stem. If I don't do this now, Brain's waves will further dissapate," said an agitated Albert while he hovered over a lump of matter that would one day surely become cancerous.

"But if you don't hurry up, I can't livewire the Doctor Who protocol into Brain's thought process before his blood sugar goes too low to think about it," retorted Fred.

"Why don't you eat some brain cells and leave me alone, you virus," whispered a historically-intimitated Albert.


Stay tuned for more of the action from my terminally-doomed brain.

-Mike Gee