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Ben Popik
E-mail:bp625@bard.edu
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10.31.2001  
Well, it's been 52 hours since I posted plans for the South Hall Bathroom Stall counterpart to exploding dog, and I have yet to receive a single page of crayon-colored childhood innocence that we can expose to the crude and often soiled reality of college hygiene, and that makes me sad. Granted, I have a readership of eight people, but I would think that at least one of you would have some sort of influence over a child.

So, logically, the next best thing to a child is someone that dresses like a child. So, logically, it's time to call on Adam Conover


7:21 PM

10.30.2001  
Perhaps what matters is not human pain or joy at all but, rather, the play of shadow and light on a live body, the harmony of trifles assembled...in a unique and inimitable way.

I entered a plane of being where nothing mattered, save the infusion of joy brewed within my body. What had begun as a delicious distention of my innermost roots became a glowing tingle which now had reached that state of absolute security, confidence and reliance not found elsewhere in conscious life.

Nabokov, from The Fight and Lolita
5:14 PM

 
if you a get a feeling next time you see me
do me a favor and let me know
'cos it's hard to tell
it's hard to say
oh well, okay

elliott smith
5:11 PM

 
today is quote day. maybe every tuesday is quote day. or maybe just when i'm depressed, and not even a little bit creative.
5:08 PM

10.29.2001  
I'm sure many of you are familiar with exploding dog, you know, the website where you send the creator a one-line letter, and he draws it. It's cute, everyone seems to enjoy it. Well, I've been thinking about somehow doing something like that with this website, maybe something a little different, and definitely aiming it at kids. I was thinking that maybe kids could draw me a picture, using whatever medium (crayon, marker, whatever their cute little fingers could pick up and spread on a page), and then they could scan them and send them to me. They could even draw them on their computer. And then, when I received them, I could print them out, and leave them on the floor in one of the stalls of the upstairs South Hall bathroom for some arbitrary period of time...we'll say six days. Then, at the end of the six day period, I could rescan them, and send them back to the kids. I really think the interaction with the college atmosphere would be fun for the kids.

So come on, kids! Send away! Send them to UncleBen@explodinglawsuit.com
3:23 PM

 
Alright, I just looked at a metal tack on the floor, and thought to myself, "I should pick that up, I'm just going to step on it." I then turned around, performed some minor task, and quickly returned to the business of stepping onto the tack. I stepped on it with such force that upon raising my foot from the ground, I found that the entire metal spike was actually embedded in my foot, with the plastic portion arrogantly emerging directly from my skin. If one could "Let there be light," don't you think he could keep two cents worth of sharp steel and plastic out of my fucking foot? Case and point, God is angry.
1:18 PM

 
The theme of today's post is "Phrases and Keywords That Should Bring Around the Freakies." Let's see...there's Osama Bin Luscious, inbreeding goat implants, young nude terrorists, and various carnal acts involving various members of the clergy. Just to explain, quickly, there are a lot of "interesting" (euphemism, you're actually sick) people out there, and I'd like to devise a concise paragraph that will, through the miracle of search engines, bring them around. So, on with the keywords, we can't forget pirate supermodels, mp3 players biting the porn industry, George W. Bush fist-fighting free term papers during a wet t-shirt contest, things of that nature. Google will enjoy this. Alright, one more round and then I have to get back to my paper on virtue. XXX wild animal orgy, Tom Cruise getting rich quick by peddling anthrax, and last but not least, Bard College of Bioterrorism. Now let's see if it works, you sick bastards.
10:37 AM

10.27.2001  
The other day we watched The Sandlot, a baseball movie and childhood favorite of mine. The best part was that I had absolutely no memory of any aspect of the movie, whatsoever. I don't know, something about a dog, they play baseball a lot, I think one of them might wear glasses. Watching this movie was one of the better experiences I've had this year. Because not only was it like I was watching this movie for the first time, but it was like watching this movie for the first time with an absolute, first-hand knowledge that I will love this movie. I can't think of anything in life comparable to that. I can't imagine having pumpkin pie again for the first time. And it turns out that a couple of them wear glasses.

The other thing about the movie is that it is clearly made for kids. They factor in your short childhood attention span, so they repeat the major concepts, literally over and over again, word-for-word. The narrator says the phrase, "That was the summer I'd get us in the biggest pickle of our lives," four fucking times. It's really patronizing. But at least you don't have to try and hold onto the plot, even a little.

1:23 PM

10.26.2001  
I think I can best describe my meals by their according stomach aches. The Thanksgiving sandwhich I had not an hour ago, an entire commemorative holiday on a hard roll, is a dull, yet entirely unbearable, life-consuming pain. The Revolutionary War, complete with realistic uniforms and true-to-the-time-period weaponry, recreated in my small intestine. Though I may owe some credit to the pickle. Pickles are really the bayonet of foods. There have definitely been entire days of my life, days that despite my strong powers of mental suppression, hold strong in my memory, that I have been held incapacitated by my inability to abstain from eating pickles. It's an unforgettable pain, really only comparable to the kind of damage a girl could do to you. Ironically (what, with the phallic thing), girls are the pickles of people.
8:03 PM

 
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