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01 August 2006 @ 04:00 am
"And Lebanon is not fit to burn, nor its beasts sufficient for a burnt offering."
-Isaiah 40:16

I'm telling you, folks. This God thing is really going somewhere.

Update: It's Isaiah, not Ezekiel. I must have been living in the old testament when i wrote that.
 
 
Current Mood: happy
 
 
If there were a rally for Israel in Providence, I would be there in a second.

Ever feel crazy when you see God everywhere you look?

Thousands Rally in LA to Support Israel
 
 
Current Mood: happy
 
 
26 July 2006 @ 12:15 am
I had the most brilliant dream last night.

And promptly I forgot it.

All I remember of it at this point is being in my house with Jesus Christ. There had been more of us at the beginning, but by the end, only he and I were left.
 
 
Current Mood: happy
 
 
18 July 2006 @ 12:18 am
And so begins a new era in my life, a life of fitness, and all-terrain rolling.

Yes, I bought this:


Yeah, it's beautiful isn't it?

Disc brakes, 24 speeds, those fat-ass wheels. The suspension seems a little screwy, and the drivetrain is iffy, but I'm sure I'll be sinking plenty of dough into this baby.

Anybody want to go riding with me?
 
 
Current Mood: Brilliant
Current Music: Wu-Tang Clan "CREAM"
 
 
11 July 2006 @ 02:31 am
Woe.  
I was browsing through Harper’s Magazine’s facts index the other day and I was surprised to learn that more children were born out of wedlock in 2004 than in any other year on record. What a thing to hear! The moralist in me wants to cry out with indiscriminate outrage, but the realist in me indicates that this would be unproductive.


What does it mean? Well, I believe about half of our country would say that this is an indication of the moral decay in our society, a symptom of America’s transformation from the Great Christian Nation of Laws and Morals into a cesspool of ungodly hedonism. The other half of our country would probably say that this behavior is indicative of a great cyclical crisis of poverty and instability inextricably linked to some sort of racial or class-based struggle. In reality (a place I like to go when no one else is around) I suspect that neither is true.


What matters is that there are a lot of children growing up without fathers, and that worries me. I grew up without much of a father figure. My parents divorced before I was capable of forming memories and my mother was and is the single true parent of my day-to-day life. With this in mind, I worry for those children born out of wedlock, that they might have the same sort of difficulties that I had growing up: lack of discipline and motivation, problems with drugs or whatever.


It must be noted that human beings have only been keeping track of such things for a fairly short period of time, and I’m sure that before the Institution of Marriage was institutionalized the numbers of children born out of wedlock were much higher. But they didn’t keep track of that, now did they? Well, c’est la vie. It is fairly easy to conjure up such an alarming statistic, and if the numbers go up it will be just as alarming to hear it about 2005, or 2006.


After my initial concern with the welfare of these children, I am struck by how much this fact simply doesn’t affect me. Yes, that’s it. That’s the kind of impression that this fact really makes on me: one of clear-headed apathy. I don’t care.
 
 
Current Mood: Brilliant
Current Music: Wu-Tang Clan "CREAM"
 
 
07 July 2006 @ 02:03 am
Will be a bicycle. The coolest, fastest, awesomest bicycle I can afford!

Any recommendations?
 
 
Current Mood: drunk
Current Music: laura ingram show, 96.9 fm
 
 
04 May 2006 @ 04:05 pm

What we now know as reality television began in 1953 with Candid Camera, the classic network program which put ordinary people in compromising situations and documented their natural, unscripted reactions. The show’s tagline, “Smile, you’re on Candid Camera” is at least as ingrained into the collective American consciousness as any individual gag. Nowadays, the hidden camera gimmick that at first defined Candid Camera as a unique product has proliferated into the sometimes nauseating, sometimes captivating genre of contemporary television known as “Reality TV.”

Now, your friends at the water cooler would probably hesitate before putting Candid Camera in the same category as Survivor, where each contestant is painstakingly selected from a field of God-knows-how-many aspiring Richard Hatches and Jenna Morascas. Yes, in truth there is little ‘reality’ in modern reality TV, which seems to be an enticing amalgam of the very basest aspects of reality with the moral depravity, crass commercialism, and sky-high production values of television.

Indeed there has been something of a backlash against reality TV, with television critics and the self-proclaimed “educated class” of America decrying the backstabbing and undisguised greed behind shows like Survivor, and the vapid excesses of programs like The Swan. Ratings, on the other hand, seem not to reflect the sheer disgust that one would see when reading the opinions of those in the popular media. Psychology Today’s Steven Reiss and James Wiltz sought to measure real popular sentiment towards this new brand of entertainment:

The attitude that best separated the regular viewers of reality television from everyone else is the desire for status. Fans of the shows are much more likely to agree with statements such as, "Prestige is important to me" and "I am impressed with designer clothes" than are other people. We have studied similar phenomena before and found that the desire for status is just a means to get attention. And more attention increases one's sense of importance: We think we are important if others pay attention to us and unimportant if ignored. (Reiss)

Granted, the sample size of their survey is only 239 people, but the data remains intriguing. Long reviled as shallow, materialistic, and crude, could reality television really cater to those Americans who share the same values?

Time Magazine’s James Poniewozik suggests that the reality television boom of the early part of this decade is both a response to the television networks’ complete creative bankruptcy and a natural progression for a generation who grew up with MTV’s The Real World (Poniewozik 469). Being a member of this generation myself, I have witnessed among my peers a great amount of value placed in what we as a group see as “real”. In my observation, much of what is known as “gangsta rap” is considered “real” for its depictions of gritty, often poor and black urban reality.

Indeed the kind of reality often depicted in hardcore rap bears striking similarities to the nature of reality that one might find in a viewing of Big Brother or Survivor. This is a bizarre slice of reality, a kind of entertainment reality trimmed of the tedious and mundane realities of the universal human experience and biased towards the most instantly and universally exciting elements: sex, competition, greed, the survival instinct; excess and debauchery in all their forms.

It is of great importance to recognize how distorted this slice of reality is, because therein lies the great appeal of both reality television and, at least for this middle-class white suburban youth, gangsta rap. It is a great vicarious thrill ride, an instantaneous transportation to a world without boundaries, where we can indulge our baser instincts towards lust and greed without consequence. Not only that, but we can get together and talk about it at work the next morning.

There is that, and then there are programs like American Idol. Few of the myriad reality shows borne out of the boom of 2000 and 2001 have proven to have lasting appeal, and turnover remains extremely high, but American Idol has proven its staying power. Although its format is that of a talent show (which have been around since time immemorial), it is the individual struggle for recognition, the dream of climbing to the top despite overwhelming odds that all Americans can appreciate and aspire to.

Elaine Showalter says that “American Idol showed how the postmillennial United States is changing with regard to race, class, national identity, and politics” (474) and goes on to praise the show’s racial and stylistic multiculturalism, as if the politically correct world of television would permit anything less. But behind this nearly impenetrable fortress of liberal namby-pambyism is a carefully crafted moneymaking vehicle, painstakingly assembled by the record industry and the Fox TV network.

Yes, beyond the national spectacle of American Idol lies a callous capitalistic motive: the show is clearly a national focus group for the record industry to groom one of the show’s twelve finalists to commercial perfection in anticipation of the winner’s album, which will inevitably top the sales charts. In this light, the nature of the sometimes controversially honest criticism of contestants by judge Simon Cowell, are quite apt. Indeed, Simon Cowell is symbolic of the universal human struggle to reconcile our grand dreams with the harsh realities of the world. Cowell’s complete disregard for a contestant’s feelings come not from a desire to be vicious or cruel, but out of a vested interest in finding the most talented, commercially viable contestants.
Humiliation, predictably, results, but it is out of a bruised ego that one can grow. “Embarrassment, these shows demonstrate, is survivable, even ignorable, and ignoring embarrassment is a skill we could all use” (Poniewozik 471). Despite how difficult it may be to watch, it is lessons like these that attract us to reality television; not as a means of grotesque escapism or voyeuristic perversion, but out of a sense of community and shared humanity.

Of course, many of us still won’t watch it. In the end, reality television has different values to different people. To some, it is a sign of moral corruption and a symptom of a much greater national crisis. To others, it is pure vicarious entertainment. In the end, has the argument really changed so much since television itself first came into existence? No, not really.

 
 
15 April 2006 @ 02:15 pm
oh yeah i think i forgot to tell a lot o people but i'm going to ireland today.

back soon!

love
 
 
 
01 April 2006 @ 02:00 pm
my GOD my mouth hurts *SO BAD*! I got my wisdom teeth removed (I had five) and although I have nothing but positive things to say about the anaesthesia (fantastic!) and the company of my sweet pie-shaped girl yesterday and this morning, the pain is fantastic!

I'm almost out of vicodin!

I love you!

-nick
 
 
29 March 2006 @ 05:38 pm
I get my wisdom teeth out tomorrow, so that'll mean a few days of rest, applesauce, and vicodin. i have five (yes, five) wisdom teeth, including one tiny little one that's not fully developed embedded in the gum. kristine is coming down to take care of me on friday (ÜÜÜ) and i'm very excited about that. i've requested full anaesthesia and sedation because i'm not a big fan of pain, and my jaw has been fucked up recently, so holding my jaw open while they saw away in there won't be too unpleasant.

anybody hear about the rallies in california the past few days? there's photos on WTKK 96.9 conservative radio commentator Michael Graham's website of students of an LA high school walking out of their school and taking down the US flag that was waving outside. In it's place they put the Mexican flag on top and put the American flag underneath it, UPSIDE DOWN.

This is disgraceful, and terrifying. These illegal immigrants are going to American schools funded by our tax money, leaching off the welfare system, not reporting their incomes while their employers suffer no real consequences. Then, when American authorities start to contemplate what to do about this huge national security and economic issue, the illegal immigrants run through the streets waving Mexican flags?

What?

Look, my goal in life is to gain perspective, to be able to understand things from all possible points of view. I understand that these immigrants, like all immigrants, are people trying to get the best they can for themselves and their families, but there is another motive here. People in America, like my family, and yours, dear reader, are either immigrants or descendents of immigrants. My families came here legally, through the constitutional immigration process, and they came here because they wanted to be part of the American dream, part of this grand national identity that we all strive for.

Why, then, would people who wanted to become legal American citizens, with all the rights and responsibilities therein be parading through the streets of LA with the flag of a foreign nation? Why would they come here, to a foreign land, with no plans to assimilate into the culture of their adopted country?

I don't get it. For over two hundred years, people who wanted to become Americans applied to the INS, filled out forms, learned some english, learned about the presidents and the constitution and voting. They learned how to be citizens before they were allowed to be here, and then they were proud to have made it through the process.

Now our government wants to grant amnesty- a great big "I forgive you for breaking our laws and invading our country" - to the millions of illegal immigrants in this country.

I just don't get it. Anybody with me on this? Anybody disagree?

-nick coutis
 
 
29 March 2006 @ 02:30 am
I now have a facebook and i never realized how much better it is than the tacky horrible evil disgusting myspace.

if you want to read something interesting, then read my previous post, but if you want to show me love, and i know y'all wanna show me love, then write me an email or a comment or write on my wall.

http://facebook.com/p.php?id=194804132&l=d18b36add3

Ü

-nick
 
 
if i don't hit you with that bass funk
or hot vocals going local when you blow out your trunk
i hit you in your wallet at the pump
cuz i'm exxon mobile, i got oil by the barrel
and i'm hotter than baked alaska in my bomb-ass apparel
and verily, the lord said to me "you're the shit"
and I asked him what to do and he told me to run with it
i don't got guns or honeys
high-class cars or moneys, i got one life to live
i love to give and that's just the positives
so what can i do but just have a smoke or two
insult you, and laugh while you're kissing my ass

get down!

god damn! i knows that i drives you crazy
the way that i talk smart but act generally lazy
my heart's about the size of my fist
but kristine i insist that i love you much more than the size of this
i've got to th-thank you for making me m-much less of an asshole
you know how i roll
drive fast, drink, smoke, pass the bowl
but i'm not so out of control
as the c-crazy ass ass clown that my past acted
i'm b-b-back in action, a-attacking with passion
and t-t-taking for now everything that my past was lacking

get down!
 
 
24 March 2006 @ 03:48 pm
If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, even if we don't speak often, please post a comment with a memory of you and me. It can be anything you want- good or bad. When you're finished, post this little paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or moritified) about what people remember about you.
 
 
20 March 2006 @ 04:46 pm
i'm exhausted in so many ways. i've spent the last week driving, at least three times back and forth to portsmouth, back and forth to springfield, and back and forth to boston. it seems like i'm getting more depressed these days, but i really don't know anymore.

i got a postcard from margaret, which was without a doubt the high point of my day today. i had the rough draft of an observational paper due for composition class, and the place i chose to write about is smith hill, up 44 from me in providence, but that area is so depressing and desolate i couldn't write it without getting depressed, so it turned out short and late, and i printed it out just moments before my class.

i'm trying so hard not to slack off. i want so badly to love school, and i do. i get a lot out of it and i like it very much, i'm just... i don't know. i can't even describe it. i just don't enjoy much of anything.

i guess i don't really have anything to say. i don't know if i can say anything about it anymore. my mind is all disjointed and confused. i was doing really well for a while, and i think it had a lot to do with my sleep. i had a script for ativan .5mg to help me sleep, and that always works like gangbusters, but it's fleeting, and i know my doctor would be uncomfortable prescribing to a crazed drug addict like me for more than 1 month at a time, but god it would be nice to sleep well for one night.

the driving is really starting to get to me, but i can't just cut it out. i love my car and i love being with people, but they aren't here. they just aren't. i don't know. i don't have a right to complain, since i should be making friends and spending time with the people i have nearby who care about me, but i have no drive, no confidence. i'm exhausted, and i barely even do anything.

i went to springfield for a couple of days, and the first night i hung out with aidan and we went to his girlfriend's house for a party. i had such a great time that night, drinking and making friends. the next night aidan had a party to go to for st pat's day that i wasn't invited to. he went, and my other cousins went out to party and i ended up alone all night, essentially taking care of the house for aidan.

i hate fishing for sympathy, seriously. i don't want comments saying "ohhh nick i'm sorry you're so sad blah blah". i don't know what i want. i feel like it's wrong for me to want anything, that i should be satisfied with what i have. i'm so confused.

thank god i have kristine. she gives me more than i ever dreamed of, and puts up with my emotional neediness like i never imagined. i love her.

i think i needed to get that out.

thanks livejournal community, and feel free to call me if you love me. if you don't have my number and you want it, just email me. tragic.flaw(at)mac.com
 
 
06 March 2006 @ 10:39 pm
I just heard an advertisement on the radio for a sort of international competition, a series of games involving children with intellectual disabilities.

the first thing that came to mind when i heard the term "intellectual disabilities" was that it must be some new politically correct term for that most debilitating of conditions: terminal idiocy.

my second thought was a challenge to the first: there are a special set of games not for retarded kids, but for dumb kids?

then i realized they were talking about the special olympics.

I can't tell you how disappointed that made me.
 
 
Current Mood: drunk
Current Music: laura ingram show, 96.9 fm
 
 
02 March 2006 @ 07:22 pm
I'm doing sound for the battle of the bands at middletown high school tomorrow, starts at six. Be there.

Feels like I have nothing to say on this damn page. I think I'm a lot less interesting as a person than I used to be. I'm more reserved, less talkative, less imaginative. I just don't have all that much to say. I'm having a hell of a time making friends, or even just chatting with people. I think I've been away from people for too long. I've lost all my social skills.

I've finally got what I wanted: school, and my car, and some stability, but I'm not happy. Satisfaction is fickle, I guess.

I'm looking forward to the spring, and getting out of the house more. And my job, I'd really love to get a call from TMS. I got hired, you know. I just haven't started yet. But how restrained should I be when my dad will be one of my bosses?

I need some courage. That is something I sorely lack.

I wouldn't mind getting laid either. It always takes the edge off. :^D

i love you, kristine ü

-nick
 
 
20 February 2006 @ 05:58 pm


oh me.
 
 
17 February 2006 @ 08:49 pm
well the mixer is home from a long stay in the old basement studio, and it still works! that thing is *ancient* but it still works wonderfully, so it looks like work towards IV 06 is on its way.

I got a job, at tuition management systems in warwick, making a lot of money handling customer service calls. i've probably mentioned this to a lot of you before.

I got my first paper back in comp class, on which i got a 9/10, so yay! off to a great start.

the pressure of deadlines and work has really begun and I think I can really take it on this year. I just have to keep working hard and I know I can do it.

well, not much to say and I'm not saying it all that articulately. Whatever. I love y'all, and I'm just gonna keep it frosty till later.

peace
 
 
I'm so stupid. I'm so stupid and fat and overdramatic. I'm disgusting, and I disgust myself. I'm all these things to the point that I can't even talk about them anymore- I'm too sensitive. When I bring up how miserable I am to my mom or my dad, they just say "I don't wanna hear it."

I know this is like every other thirteen year old girl on livejournal, because that's no less than what i am- a stupid, weak, petty little girl who happens to look like an 18 year old boy. I'm humiliated to leave this house, and too humiliated to want to stay in my own mind when I'm inside it. I'm too dependant on my own mother, and my girlfriend.

At the same time, I have precious few friends. You guys are great, but still too far away. I'm so isolated here, it's like I'm going insane. Now, back in school, all the kids have typecast me again, as that annoying smart kid in the sport coats that loves to talk to the professors. Yeah that's what I am, that's all I am.

You know why I wear the sport coats all the time? to hide my tits. yeah that's right. I've had them since I hit puberty, and that and the fact that I can't pee standing up are the reasons I've always hid myself from the other guys in school. I'm still weak and stupid, I'm just weak, stupid, deformed, emasculated, ugly, and fat.

I've seen precious few good pictures of me in the past few years, and that stems from the tits, my glasses, my terrible posture, and my inability to smile right on cue. As a result, almost every photo from my high school graduation is absolutely disgusting. I look like some deformed hunchback faggot in my diploma picture.

And of all these things and how much they hurt me, I so easily find ways to take my own hurt and turn it against those I love. Things of this nature came up with Kristine on the phone tonight, and I turned into the usual blob of self-loathing human pudding that I always become when I have to be honest with myself and others.

"So," you might say, "Why don't you change these things? Work out, see the doctor about the gynecomastia (tits), learn how to stand up straight, and you'll be golden."

Well thanks for asking, self! Gee, I'd never thought of those things. Yeah well I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WORK OUT. The suggestion "work out" is meaningless if you don't know more than a couple simple exercises and more than three things to do with weights. I don't know how long i should work out for, what to do, how to know if i'm doing it right or wrong. I just don't know. Any help would be more than greatly appreciated. Please.

I saw the doctor about my tits. I have to have bloodwork done, maybe tomorrow, for an appointment on the 30th. Who knows what she'll say. Oh an yes, the doctor was a she, and talking to her about the tits I didn't want made her blush, in one of the most humiliating emasculating moments of my young life

Now this brings us back to one of the first things I said in this post, my inclination towards drama. I know I'm blowing all these things way out of proportion. Who cares about them all if I have love in my life, right? I do. It's hard to be worth something if you keep telling yourself and everybody else that you're not. Well, that's what I do, right or wrong. Even when I was on pills for it, it didn't make it better- just different. I don't expect it to ever really go away, but having some attention always makes things a little easier. Unfortunately, indiscriminate use of drama does not get one the attention one may desire. Also there is the ever-present problem of diminishing returns.

It's come down to that I can't control my bouts of self-loathing. i'll say anything that comes to mind, anything to try and get someone (often almost anyone) to say that I'm not as stupid or weak as I think I am.

They just don't even try anymore. Could you blame them? I certainly couldn't. We reap what we sow, and when one sows the seeds of discontent, he better well be prepared to harvest the grain. It's up to me, and only me now, I guess.

I'm pretty upset and disappointed in myself. I wouldn't mind having an ear other than poor Kristine's to talk into.

Sorry for anyone who's read this far.