Born Free

Born Free by The Bouncing Souls

Fear is in the air that's the way they want it to be
"Don't trust friends or neighbors everyone's your enemy!"
Kidnapped children on TV; fear runs through the family
They'll put a chip in your arm.
Keeping track of where you are.
With all of this technology have we come so far?
It's easy to get lost, forget who you are

Don't forget that you're born free
It's better to die on your feet than to live on your knees

People are so greedy, it's almost funny
How many ways can they ruin lives for money?
I see the choice to enjoy the truth in life
In the middle of all this deceit and strife
A nation's future stands in doubt
Peace and love are on the way out
Why can't they just let me be?
How I live is up to me

Don't forget that you're born free
It's better to die on your feet than to live on your knees

We get the message loud and clear
We refuse to live in fear!

Football part 2

Check out part one if you missed it.

Attending Mountain Camp was a prerequisite to attending California Camp. I can only assume the reason is because California Camp would simply be too difficult for somebody who wasn't properly prepared and in physically fit.

California Camp was held the last week of summer, when I would normally be savoring the last moments of freedom. We were to meet and then leave the school at 6:00pm to make the all-night journey from eastern Arizona to Huntington Beach, California. 

Sleeping on a school bus is not very easy or comfortable. As a result, we got only a couple hours of sleep if we were lucky. I finally fell asleep in the upright position with my head resting on the seat ahead of me. When I woke up, we were traveling very slowly on the freeway and there were cars everywhere. Welcome to California. 

It must have been between 5 or 6 in the morning when we arrived at the beach. We were allowed a bathroom break and then instructed to "run to the pier and back" which overall was probably a mile run. This was surprisingly easy since we were used to the thin mountain air and we felt like we could run all day with the nice sea level air. When we we arrived back we got in our usual formation of exactly straight rows and columns with enough space in between us that we weren't in danger of hindering each other.

Every day at California Camp started the same way, which would our usual football practice regimen. We would systematically go through our stretches in the usual manner, and then we were offered a challenge. We would be given a number with a fraction such as three and three quarters. This number indicated how many jumping jacks we were to do - and we were expected to incorporate the fraction. If we were given three and three quarters, we would need to do three jumping jacks and then stop a third of the way through the last jumping jack. We were expected to be absolutely perfectly in sync with each other, otherwise we were compelled to experience pain.

We were always to be judged on our performance in a manner similar to a Roman emperor deciding the fate of a gladiator - with a thumbs up or a thumbs down. Coach London would pause for effect, allowing us to entertain the smallest of hope that perhaps this time we would get a thumbs up. Occasionally he would mess with us by momentarily holding out an upright thumb but then turning it to give us the inevitable thumbs down. 

That first morning we had absolutely zero chance of completing this task due to our tired brains. Unsurprisingly we received the thumbs down, and it was time to receive a thorough anus-kicking.
I don't recall the exact punishment that day but typically one of the scary coaches (Williams or London) would pick a punishment, such as up-downs or leg lifts, and we would do that punishment until we reached our breaking point. That's when we know we were halfway done with that particular exercise. Leg lifts involved lying on our backs and lifting our legs a couple inches above the ground until our whole bodies were shaking, or maybe we would run in place but every time we heard the whistle from the upright standing position, we would touch our chests to the ground and get back up before the next whistle which would likely be in a manner of seconds. More than one time I literally thought my body couldn't go any more, but then after hearing Coach Williams yell at someone a few rows down, somehow I was able to do one more up-down.

After we were punished for not being perfectly in sync, it was time to do another couple hours of intense physical conditioning. After this point, however, the practice we typically did activities that weren't straight up punishment although they were still physically exhausting. For example, one day the coaches threw out a football into the ocean, and a group of 4 people would go and attempt to be the one to return the football. I don't even recall if there was any reward for doing this, but we fought as hard as we could, doing whatever we physically could do, to get the football. As soon as we could get our hands on the football there would be three football players trying to rip it from us. There were even a couple beach tackles as people fiercely fought to best their opponents. After I was done with this ordeal, I felt like I had been hit by a truck. Our bodies were accustomed enough to physical exhaustion that I only puked on the first day (more like dry heaved since I didn't have any food in my stomach). We would do seal crawls (which pretty much meant dragging ourselves across the beach with nothing but our arms), crab walks, and lots of other types of animal walking/crawling. We would have to pick each person in our row and move them to the next spot in the line, and then we would carry people on boogie boards. We had moments where we were expected to stand with our hands on our knees and legs slight bent, staring into the ocean. If anybody moved, we were in for another round of punishment. I remember in one such situation, Coach London was pissed about something. A good indicator to us that he was angry was the fact that he chucked his coffee as hard as he could on the beach. This is was a very vivid and terrifying memory, and I don't remember the punishment we received but I know that I survived. 

California Camp was not always 100% butt kicking and work. After our grueling morning practices, we would hang out on the beach for a several hours and go boogie boarding. Coach London brought a trailer full of boogie boards and wet-suits and we certainly put them to good use. It was always a good feeling knowing that the worst was behind us that day and we could relax for a while on the beach, eat Jamba Juice, hang out on the pier, and generally have a good time. During the middle of the week we were able take a day off and visit Six Flags and spend the day riding roller coasters.

After our morning practices and boogie boarding, we would have lunch and then have an actual football practice on a grassy field that we were able to use all by ourselves. We would go through the same ordeal of doing the jumping jacks, getting the thumbs down, and getting whooped. This time though, once were through the punishment, we were done with the conditioning (until the end) and could focus on actual football. We would practice tackling, running our offense and defense plays and everything else that I imagine every other football team does. After several hours, we would run sprints far longer than we wanted to, and then finally we would be done. It was time to get some sleep so that we could wake up the following morning at 5am and do it all over again.

I came back from California Camp about 15 pounds heavier from an increase of muscle mass. We arrived back home on Sunday morning, and I was absolutely exhausted. We were able to enjoy a day off and the next day, after the first day of school was over, we were out practicing.

I learned a lot about what success looks like from this experience. I understand that it comes with a price.

We expected perfection in the upcoming season. However, we were in for a bumpy ride...

Robocop 4 by Future of the Left

(I think everybody has fantasized what they would ask Elvis if he was still alive. I know what I would ask him:
"What's your favorite film?")

Jaws? Jaws 2? More Jaws? or Jaws rebooted?
Please, let's take a second to think about a future state of love and bliss
Brought to you by wish lists of eight year old boys who only crave explosions
Why?
Well, being eight, they have an excuse - they're eight!
and giant robots cannot distract them from their fate

Middle aged men on a movie date, committed to mortal shame

Hey! Relax! No-one died - in fact, they left improved!
If Michael Bay wants a bigger house, let's help him
Art? ha!
Where you from?
Where you been?
He said:
I went to Cannes once and and really did not have much fun
Why?
Well, being French, they talk too much
and all those pages of subtitles kept getting stuck

1 becomes 2, 2 becomes 3
1 becomes 2, 2 becomes 3

Pirates of the Caribbean 47
Johnny Depp stars as the robot pirate who loses his wife in a game of poker
and tries to win her back with hilarious consequences
At least Harry Potter has a proper story in the sense that the characters crave an ending
If only to release poor Billy Corgan from his role as the titular character's nemesis
Robocop 4 is in pre-production, like Robocop 3 wasn't bad enough
and George Lucas won't be kicking his heels 'til he makes some money from Howard the Duck
Robocop 4 is in pre-production, like Robocop 3 wasn't bad enough
I hope the projectionist likes his action motion-tracked and medicated

(the first director died)

Lyrics about apathy and not-apathy

These two songs provide an interesting and opposing juxtaposition. I am able to simultaneously relate to both of them. The second one may surprise people. Yes I am undoubtedly known to despise traditional education, but there were times in my life where I was a very good student who achieved the high grades that proved I learned so much. It's not really the desire for good grades that I relate to however, it's the overall attitude that I appreciate. 

Enough about me. Cue the punk rock. 


False Jesii Part 2 - by Pissed Jeans

I know there are things going on tonight, but I don't bother
Only ten minutes across town that's right, but I don't bother

I could put on a tight black shirt, but I don't bother
I could hit the gym so it looks real nice, but I don't bother
I could tell a joke and make the whole room laugh, but I don't bother
I could show up with the coldest six pack, but I don't bother

No to everything

I could match you drink for drink, but I don't bother
I know I could make her boyfriend mad, but I don't bother
I could captivate with a story of mine, but I don't bother
I could go on and start a conga line, but I don't bother

No to everything


NOTE: this previous song has the best (and most apathetic) music video I've ever seen, although the music isnt't exactly Jesus Wants Me For a Sunbeam. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BstpFV98mRg



Mass Nerder - by The Descendents

Don't got no goatee
Don't got no tattoo
Don't got no nose ring
Don't wanna be like you

Check out these glasses
So I'll never be cool
Always get my assed kick 
When I get to school

Don't worry about image
Don't got no attitude
I know I won't get laid
If I wont be like you!

Don't got no biceps
Don't got no pecks
But I'll read you under the table
With my thick specks

See I got these glasses
So they kick my ass
But I'll kick their asses
When I get to class

I got these glasses
So I can't wear shades
I'll kick their asses
I'll get good grades

I can't get rid of the times
Can't stop the party line
Don't know what the scenes about
Don't tell me to mellow out!

Don't got no goatee
No f***ing safety pin
No I ain't no junkee
Don't got no heroin

Don't got no styling lotion
Don't wanna live by the ocean
Just wanna be myself
All you poseurs go to hell!

We must read
We must read
We must read
We must read
RRRREEEEAAAADDDD!

Somebody get me a book!


ANOTHER NOTE: Milo, the lead singer, is a member of a very influential and legendary punk rock band but also has a PhD in biology. These days the band doesn't tour a whole lot because is busy working in the lab. I think I like you Milo.

Dallin and Football part 1

I decided to play football my freshman year. I knew NOTHING about football. I don't remember what drove me to play football except that my best friend at the time was going to play. It seems very odd that I would just all of a sudden decide to join the football team - but that's what happened. The reason why I decided to play football may be related to why I suddenly decided to try out for a musical several years later. I don't know.

I basically had to learn the rules of football. During the initial team meeting, the freshman football coach started calling out peoples names and asking what position they were intending to play. When he got to my name I said, "um, I don't know" and so I ended up with the running backs. During practice I really didn't know what the running backs were doing. They were running over some kind of long, striped piece of heavy material. Looking back, I know they were running through the hole that they play was designed to create, but I was pretty clueless back then. From there, somehow I ended up as a lineman, I'm still not sure how that happened, but that's where I stayed.

I barely even knew how good Blue Ridge football teams were, but know it or not, I was joining one of the best football programs in the history of Arizona.

The younger, freshman and JV teams didn't win quite as many games as the Varsity. Freshman teams typically didn't win every single game, and there hadn't been an undefeated freshman team in a very long time. We won our first game, and then our second game, and when we reached our 10th win, we realized we had gone undefeated. I started the season knowing nothing about football, and I was actually getting some playing time and I even made a nice tackle or two.

Paul Moro was one of the main factors behind the success of the football program. He  started coaching  at Blue Ridge in 1984 - three years before I was born. He said "I needed to win one state championship because I never won one in high school. I was hoping God would let me win just one before I got out of coaching." In 1987 he was discouraged with coaching because his team had struggle for the past few years. His wife encouraged him to stick with it and his team won the state championship that same year.

14 years later when I decided to join the ranks of Blue Ridge football, Coach Moro had led 10 additional teams to state championships. From 1994 to 1998, the team completely dominated with a 64 game win streak which finally ended in the 1998 state championship game. They went to the state championship game in 1999 but lost again. They went to the state championship game in 2000 but won this time, and won the title again in 2001. 

Anything less than winning a championship was a failure and a bitter disappointment. That was the culture I somewhat unknowingly became a part of. It was a culture that was accustomed to winning.

You can see that the Blue Ridge motto, "Tradition of Champions", painted on the wall of their humble football stadium amidst the mountain pines. Below that are the years the teams won championships. The list has grown long and it looks like they will run out of room if they keep the same pace.

In 2002, the year I joined as a freshman football player, something happened that was actually pretty shocking. Blue Ridge was embarrassed in front of a homecoming crowd in their first regular season loss in perhaps a decade. That was the only game they lost that season, but there were a couple too-close-for-comfort games where the team scored the winning touchdown in the nick of time. In the postseason playoffs, they lost the quarterfinal game to Winslow - the same team they lost to earlier in the season. 

I was not on the varsity team, but was at the game as a member of the marching band. After the game, I was gathered together with the rest of the band outside the field near where the defeated football team jogged off the field to their lockers. Someone in the football team screamed the F-word at the top of their lungs. 

The varsity team was heartbroken after losing all of two game that season, but we as the freshman team felt pretty good about ourselves for not losing any games. I wanted to play football again the next year and I was about to see what Blue Ridge football was really like.

As soon the school season was over and the summer hit, I started attending something called "speed training", which was open to everyone who wanted to physically condition themselves, which included the football team. The football team didn't just go for the  regular morning session, we showed up a couple hours early every morning so that we could either:
1) Run up and down hills until we puked (trust me, we threw up a lot, at least for the first few months)
2) Pushed cars around the parking lot, with somebody in the drivers seat pushing the brakes the entire time
3) Walked back and forth the football field with a telephone pole(!) on our shoulders, pushing it above our heads, and resting it on the other shoulder, pushing it above our heads, etc. To rest from that ordeal, we would sit down and do sit ups with the telephone pole on our chests.   

After we thoroughly got our butts kicked every morning, we would have speed training which really wasn't that difficult in comparison. At least we usually remained puke free.

In the middle of the summer, we experienced Mountain Camp. We camped out in the forest for several days and did up-downs on the dirt floor and ran sprints up hills (we only puked occasionally at this point), and whatever punishments the coaches could dream up.

 Mountain camp was just a teaser for the words that were spoken with reverence and fear: California Camp. Football players who had attended in years past affectionately referred to it as "Hell Week".

They call me Mr. Know it all

I started reading "AI Game Programming Wisdom" the other day, and the author quotes Psychology Today. So I guess I'm quoting a quote:

"In 1986, a colleague and I published a study of men who frequented the racetracks daily. Some were excellent handicappers, while others were not. What distinguished experts from nonexperts was the use of a coplex mental algorithm that converted racing data taken from the racing programs sold at the track. The use of the algorithm was unrelated to the men's IQ scores, however. Some experts were dockworkers with IQs in the low 80s, but they reasoned far more complexly at the track than all non-experts-even those with IQs in the upper 120s. In face, experts were always better at reasoning complexly than nonexperts,regardless of their IQ scores. But the same experts who could reason so well at the track were often abysmal at reasoning outside the track-about, say, their retirement pensions or their social relationships." The author goes on to say "What we need is not a generalized "intelligence", but a context-dependent expertise".

I believe those who (rightfully) perceive themselves to be highly intellectual are almost never humble, are not willing to learn from others and are not willing to admit weaknesses. But isn't that human nature?

Primus - Mr. Know it all

They call me Mr. Knowitall
I will not compromise.
I will not be told what to do.
I shall not step aside.

They call me Mr. Knowitall
I have no time to waste.
My mouth it spews pure intellect.
And I've such elegant taste.

They call me Mr. Knowitall.
I sup the aged wine.
Oh I could tell such wonderous tales 
If I should find the time.
I must be Mr. Knowitall
For ideas they come in bounds.
I am Mr. Knowitall
Now spread the word around.

They call me Mr. Knowitall
I am so eloquent.
Perfection is my middle name
And whatever rhymes with eloquent.

Primus sucks

Primus may soon take the spot for my favorite band ever. I'm in love with their music and It's absolutely weird stuff. Check out Primus playing on the David Letterman show - in penguin suits. 

Les Claypool is one of the best bassists in the world and definitely one of the most creative. A fun fact about Primus is that when they were a new, relatively unknown band, people would approach Les and compliment the band, saying "you guys rock!" or something of that nature. Les would reply, "nah, we suck". Fans of the band started yelling "Primus sucks!" at shows, and to this day rabid Primus fans yell in unison "Primus sucks" as they're anticipating the band taking the stage.

Check out this crowd. 

To Defy the Laws of Tradition - Primus

What if christmas didn't come this year and no one paid for christmas cheer?
Who would cry the biggest tear, the child or the store?

Why do brides wear virgin white?
Most do not deserve that right
But to choose a colour of their delight would surely bring on the frowns

To defy the laws of tradition is a crusade only of the brave

Suppose the taxman, he comes to town and you don't lay your money down
Yet Mr. Jones he killed Mr. Brown the other day
Well I wonder, who's gonna go to hell
It's all up to me?
No? Yeah?

I'm just a bill. Yes I'm only a bill and 
I'm sitting here on capital hill.
Well well well I'll be a law someday

To defy the laws of tradition is a crusade only of the brave