Fredrickville - Spoons Editorial

Fredrickville - Spoons Editorial Spoons Editorial http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1 en-us Copyright 2010 Fri, 24 Oct 2008 20:02:00 -0400 Fri, 24 Oct 2008 20:02:00 -0400 webmaster@fredrickville.com Fredrickville.com-606 Carpe Diem http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/92/Carpe_Diem <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/1/92.jpg" align=center border=2> Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial Fredrickville is at a crossroads. First the bad news: Informal research suggests that readership and number of page hits are at an all time low. Even without specific data to back up this point, the 4 month long Gripe Corner shutdown has taken its toll on the site. An interesting catch-22 is at play here: The Gripe Corner is the most visible aspect of Fredrickville. When users post on it, they show each other and the admins that Fredrickville is active. Activity on Fredrickville encourages end users to keep coming back and encourages admins to post more. When there's an apparent downturn in visible users, admins get discouraged and don't work as hard to produce new content. With less content being produced, users at the margin stop coming on the site, but the Gripe Corner alone is enough to sustain a small core community. The PGC shutdown over the last few months took away every semblance of user visibility save for a few comment posts and a two or three admin articles (total!), thus eliminating the last shred of the core community and plunging the site into hibernation. If we want FV to return to its former high traffic, high interest state, we must aggressively reform its business model and simultaneously launch a reintroduction campaign to attract a new user base in addition to re-appropriating the old. Let me make a note that the reason for the PGC shutdown was to introduce a new PGC (currently the 5th incarnation, I believe, although the difference between 3 and 4 was only cosmetic.) The new PGC was part of an FV expansion campaign that, due to labor and time costs, has been stagnant. But fear not, things can be turned around. Looking at the 2003-2007 period: 2003-2004 saw the highest level of total FV activity between number of gripe corner users and number of posts generated. Yes, this was in part because Wobert was a posting machine, but, more generally it is due to the fact that for lack of a better term, FV morale was high. There was action and debate to be had on the PGC and there was content to read. The visible use encouraged other endeavors such as the War in Iraq special updates, the quiz and picture contests, and the real life invitational gatherings. 2005-2006 were subject to a slowing but continued use of FV, part of which can be attributed, in this author's opinion, to the major constituency of FV leaving for college or "coming of age" in some way. This period of course also coincided with the rise of "Web 2.0" where sites like Myspace, Youtube, Wikipedia, Facebook, Blogs, and other user-oriented material became widely utilized. Fredrickville is clearly built on a Web 1.0 model. It is a site where admins and subcontractors generate content and where users passively receive that content, limited only to interactivity on the Gripe Corner and in the comments section. It is in my opinion that this is why the PGC has and will always be the most active and contentious portion of the site. This is not, of course, to disparage the quality of the admin generated material. While it is variable in its release schedule and sometimes better than at other times, it has generally been enough to attract and hold new visitors long enough to get them involved in the community. However, Web 2.0 is a difficult trend to combat under the current FV model. Note that in 2006 FV experienced a SpIkE in popularity when it introduced the conceptual FVR portion of the site - where indie bands could get web hosting and exposure. In 2007-2008 more than ever, FV saw a downturn in interest and user visibility. Because of the codependence issue illustrated earlier, this also coincided with a drop in admin productivity. It is unclear which caused which, although I suspect they act on one another more or less equally. Behind the scenes social issues between some of the constituency also eroded some of the core base. This was capped off by the PGC shutdown, which took visibility to effectively zero. What we must do: With the types of aggressively marketed content on the Internet right now, FV must prioritize who it can attract, if anyone. News, image boards, flash sites, lolcats type spam images, Youtube, and social networking are our competitors for peoples' time on the Internet. What can we do to get them to click our links and spend some of their day on this site? <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/images/smiledog.jpg"> This is the type of humor you are up against. First, we need to identify a winnable demographic. In this author's opinion, that demographic must be significantly younger than the one which has been targeted from 2006 onward (the 20 and up demographic). Fredrickville started as a high school project and could do well to remember its roots. Kids love gossiping, posting angsty rants, having access to downloadable signed hall passes and blank fieldtrip forms, and generally de-stressing about the biggest part of their day. This is a demographic we can take from Facebook in that FV is about communal gripe rather than just engaging in a massive session of "check out the person next to you." I said it once before and I'll say it again - complaining about Biology and math classes is the fuel of Fredrickville. To expand into this demographic, we need outreach into high schools by contacts on the ground - I am reminded on an anecdote of FV lore in which we narrowly lost the opportunity to be advertised in the newspaper of another school. I think one way to do this would be to start a guerrilla campaign centered on battles of the bands, community center functions, and word of mouth to get kids interested in a site that's less "mainstream" and therefore less "toolish" or "conformist" than Facebook. Facebook, after all, is run by the Man, and that man routinely upsets his users by changing the layout, adding annoying features, and running a site with a sterile blue and white exterior. FV is not sterile. FV is the mob. FV has an air of rebellion, and on this leg can we stand. Secondly, we can no longer be providers of information to passive masses. We must implement a (moderated of course) discussion section that contends hot button issues and allows for grandstanding by the user base - this makes people feel important and gets them coming back for more - and better yet, fighting with each other, which in turn keeps the audience gripped with anticipation over what will happen next. Thirdly, the material we provide needs to be more dynamic. Editorials, yes, because the quality of writing here has never been prohibitively bad, and because it instigates discussion and dissemination of the website onto other sites, but beyond editorials, we need to expand into pictures and humor - and not of the cheap Ebaumsworld variety. I mentioned before about photocopying pre-signed hall passes. This type of gimmick could be given an interactive flavor - you get a hall pass one day at school, you send it to FV, we Photoshop blank it except for the basic fields and the signature, and we repost it for download and repeated use. We could have a bank of these from schools everywhere. We could have a repository of study resources if anyone cares. We could have a calendar of community (or subculture) events like battles of the bands and parties. We would of course, take no responsibility for the promotion of private events (and maybe avoid it entirely), but at the battle of the bands, for instance, we could sponsor and advertise, get in good with the public's' heroes and use them to promote us further. With a sizeable base, FV may again be able to achieve widespread currency or even turn a profit, or expand into other demographics. I've never believed in real life merchandise sales or website ads, but I think cheap subscription features are great. I also want to note as an aside that the Friday Night Guide was hilarious and should be revived. That was forward thinking. That was user generated content. This is our stand to make, or not. ... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/92/Carpe_Diem">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Fri, 24 Oct 2008 20:02:00 -0400 Fredrickville.com-603 Back to the Future http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/91/Back_to_the_Future <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/1/91.jpg" align=center border=2> Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial Well, here we go again - About a year ago, when I was living quite the life indeed, I went on a tear about how some time in 7th grade some woman told the class to write letters to ourselves which would then be posted back to us some years hence. Naturally, the practicality of this last part weighed on my mind back then, and continued to do so through the years - what if the price of stamps went up? What if the price of lettuce went up? What if Ms Thompson moved or changed jobs and decided to toss the letters out? Well, turns out, I was a little premature in my worry - I had the delivery timetable wrong - it was not in fact to be when we all turned 21, but rather, 10 years from the time we wrote them (approx.) So here it is, August, 2008, and I'm sitting upstairs eating cool-whip off of the sharp edge of a fillet knife when the mail comes in. And there's this letter. And the handwriting on the address and return address is atrocious, AND it has TWO 32c stamps on it, and the return and mailing addresses are the SAME ADDRESS i.e. my own. W'at(?). Exactly. So I look at it. Bio-warfare attack on my person, probably. Probably anthrax, or egg yolk. Suggested make omelet. Irrelevant anyway, but I immediately began to wonder who had it in him to try to poison me. So as I'm looking at this, it hits me what it is, and I loudly curse my 7th grade self for my poor penmanship, and open the letter. Below is presented its full text: _| ) 9-8-98 Dear Spoonman, Today is the first week of 7th grade. I wonder what the rest of the year will be like. What is 2008 like? Is it much differant? These are the things I really wonder: What job do I have? What was y2K like? Last year I was on the track team; how many more years did I join? What is the latest fashion? What collage did I go to? How do people look? How do machines look? Are Rick and Logan still your friends? What new laws are there? Have we colonized planets? I guess it's really not that far away, I'm just impatient. Well, I'll know when I'm there. Sincerely, Spoonman So to answer his questions (because my position on the question of inter-temporal identity preservation has changed slightly) What is 2008 like? It stinks with the stench of social inequality, high gas prices, corporate handouts, sweaty mobs of spineless losers who claim to support liberalism but are impotent to stop the looting of the world's morals, bubble tea, and portable mp3 devices. But I'm doing pretty well myself. Is it much differant? Note here that I'm not asking if 2008 is substantively different from 1998, but rather, posing the question of what the meaning (after the sense of Derrida, as signified of my use of the constructed word "differance") of the present year is to those who seek to interpret it. I think this is a complex question which can be answered in a number of ways, and I'll leave it alone for now, save to say that a textual reading of what "2008" signifies is not what those who were alive in 1998 would have expected of it. What job do I have? Telling it like it is. What was y2K like? Gore was elected to the Presidency, briefly. Last year I was on the track team; how many more years did I join? Six more. What is the latest fashion? Moon boots. What collage did I go to? <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/images/800px-Orozco_-_Dartmouth_b.JPG" > This one, though strictly speaking, I think it's a mural. What do people look like? <a href="http://www.hotchickswithdouchebags.com/uploaded_images/Prompa3-786182.jpg"> Orange with the stain of a thousand cans of spray-tan!</a> How do machines look? <a href="http://multiplayerblog.mtv.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/04/walle-eve.jpg">Pretty iridescent...or should I say iri-decent!!1</a> Are Rick and Logan still your friends? I think he meant "Nick". Look in the tunk. I think he meant trunk.* What new laws are there? Well, I can't speak to that, but W. Hubbs Rehnquist died and John G. Roberts is Chief Justice. *This is especially funny, because not only does it quote a line from Ralph Wiggum et al. that sounds similar to what I said, but also, Logan actually did hide in a trunk on one occasion, circa 2003. Clap clap. ... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/91/Back_to_the_Future">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Thu, 07 Aug 2008 17:32:00 -0400 Fredrickville.com-543 Operation: Marmalade http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/85/Operation_Marmalade <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/1/85.jpg" align=center border=2> Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial The following story is true. It was declassified in June of 2005 and withheld from the public for an additional two years. It will now be part of public knowledge. The names have been changed to protect those involved. August 2-5, 2002. Loon Mountain Resort. "Soul-Fest", an enormous, two stage Christian music festival, which brings well in excess of 10,000 patrons. "Godtoberfest", Spoonman called it. July 29, 2002: Spoonman sneaks off to Gregor's house while the former's parents are transacting business at a local bank. Gregor imparts a large, taped-up Folgers’s coffee can containing vinegar and garden slugs to Spoonman. Spoonman hides this parcel in his parents’ car and rides home. July 30, 2002: Spoonman adds sliced turkey, milk, lemon juice, a raw egg, and about half a loaf of bread to the coffee can and caps it back up, shaking well. He duct-tapes around the lid and writes "Marmalade: Bio-Hazard", as well as a skull-and-crossbones, on the top in Sharpie. He leaves it in his garage to stew for the next few nights. Aug 2, 2002: Spoonman, Fred, and Kikai arrive at Loon Mountain resort in a beat up Toyota, with food, tailgating equipment, cameras, and extra clothes. (A) It is decided that they won't be camping out, unlike the rest of the thousands of juiced up Jesus freaks on the mountainside, who, I might add, are ready to rock. (Rather, they'll use Fred's house as base camp.) In a plastic bag, stuffed under one of the Toyota's, Spoonman has hidden the Marmalade, still secured with tape. Aug 3, 2002: The trio hears "DC Talk" perform some filthy, inappropriate songs. (B) They wait in line interminably for autographs, for some reason. (C) Fred, ironically, has a plastic spoon autographed by Toby Mack. Spoonman has a poster of Fatalist/Atheist/pseudo Hindu? Arthur Schopenhauer autographed, instead. On the way out, they pass through a large crowd of overexcited folk. Spoonman asks, "Who touched me?” Fred mentions that the crowd is so thick that it is ridiculous to ask, "Who touched me?" But don't worry, he gets it. (D) Aug 4, 2002: The trio encounters some paranoia-clauses on the hillside, wearing stoner shades, and chat with them awkwardly. (E) Fred's friend's brother is wearing a shirt that says "Jesus Freak" in thorns. Kikai goes swimming in a nearby brook. The others join, and rock-climb. (F) Nightfall arrives on the 4th. Fred goes down to the main stage to listen to "Five Iron Frenzy" Kikai and Spoonman are in the hills. (G) Earlier, they discussed what would become Operation: Marmalade together and agreed. The target was to be the main stage. The exit strategy was to escape into the thick crowd. Spoonman leaves Kikai and returns to the parking lot to obtain the Marmalade, now several days old and quite ripe, by his reckoning. In Spoon's own words: "I recall wearing khaki shorts and a gray GAP shirt that night, very innocuous. My heart was racing as I picked up the supermarket bag containing the coffee can full of Marmalade. I checked that it was still taped up. It looked ominous, and evil. I walked back from the parking lot, along the side of the river, which in the summer had a very shallow draft. I considered using utter stealth and attempting to cross it over the protruding rocks, rather than risk entry past the ticket gate, but I realized that the only way to pull this off was to play it cool, as if nothing was going down. I walked confidently across the bridge. The ticket office personnel were not even paying attention to the comings and going of the concert attendees. I imagine people were going back for extra sweatshirts, blankets, food, and such, and I would have no trouble. With the Marmalade weighing quite heavy in my left hand - the plastic supermarket bag straining on my fingers, I walked by the ticket office, (H) flashed my concert wristband in an idle fashion (probably unnecessary), and walked on in. Had I been Mohammed Atta, it could not have been easier." From there, Spoonman walked back up the hill with the Marmalade and met Kikai. The two conferred and decided that the main stage would be an incredibly dangerous target, and decided to defer to the secondary target - the sound stage, where technicians were controlling the output and overdrive of the huge ska-musical act going on. The sound stage (I), was a large structure on risers full of switchboards and mixing equipment. It had probably 200 large cables running out of it and down hidden conduits to the main stage. The back and sides were all open. Kikai and Spoonman make their way down near the sound stage and stop to cut the tape off the lid. (J) All they have to accomplish this with are the Toyota's car keys. Suddenly, a flashlight beam shines at them, and a man's voice asks, "Can I help you?" Spoonman and Kikai freeze, terror-possessed that they've been caught by security. They turn and look up slowly. Before them is a man in shorts and a golf shirt. Just a good honest Christian, looking to lend a hand. Kikai and Spoonman profess that they don't need his help and thank him. He leaves. With the Marmalade open after some struggle, and breathing through their mouths, Spoonman and Kikai come up behind the sound stage and, leaning through its open side, dump out of the Folgers' can's contents onto the floor, near some buzzing equipment. The Marmalade comes out like sludge - its color indiscernible under the concert floodlights. Spoonman and Kikai leave hastily. They find the nearest garbage and throw out the Folgers' can (L), each taking a whiff of it first, for posterity. The smell, attested by both, is so foul, that to say they both nearly puked right there would not even begin to describe it. It was a sweaty, warm, almost medical smell. With hints of oak and chocolate. The two grab Fred from his post in the front row as 5IF winds up their act, and they all bolt for the car and drive home. They don't stay for the Aug 5th conclusion of Godtoberfest. Spoonman vows that the operation will not be made public until all parties involved had moved out of town. This occurred in 2005. The story was attempted twice, and finally written this night of September, 2007. The map of Loon Mountain during SoulFest 2002, and the places described: <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/images/98293OPMARM.JPG"> * * * The indgredients of Marmalade -Live Slugs -Vinegar -Sliced turkey breast cold cuts -A raw egg, beaten -Milk -Lemon juice -Bread, to solidify Mix well and leave to stew for three nights. Case closed. Amen and amen.... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/85/Operation_Marmalade">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Sat, 22 Sep 2007 01:42:00 -0400 Fredrickville.com-542 Send Off http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/84/Send_Off <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/1/84.jpg" align=center border=2> Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial I'll try to recapitulate a few things I meant to post but never did. Because it's more fun to read numbered points, I'll do that. Spoon, like others, is nice, and formats his text in a way that is pleasing to read. Unfortunately, it won't last long. Ok: 1) I am constantly paranoid. 2) I constantly think of topics that I want to post, and then realize that I could never successfully post. This is not because they are too personal or controversial, but merely because they are too detailed and not very interesting. 3) As proof of (2), I started writing in (3) on the subject of one such topic alluded to in (2). 4) I really am constantly paranoid. 5) I have more of a plan. 6) After 3 years, I decided it's ok to eat the stems of Pepperoncinis (in vinegar) 7) If I started linking to all the things I allude to in this Editorial, it would cease to become an editorial and become a blog. That is unacceptable. 8) I finally saw all the Lord of the Rungs movies. Yes, I'm aware I wrote "rungs". I assure you, it was intentional, much as it was the last time. I saw them all at once and in order, and was left with mixed feelings. I don't understand why ... 8.5) Wow, I really am so paranoid. 8.75) ... the conversation, narration, etc, in movies is so weak nowadays. I saw "300" recently as well, and although I was prepared for the acting to suck, I was still a little appalled. However, I found that in the Rungs trilogy, that the dialogue, while better than in other films, was stilled cliched, over-emotional, and weak. I don't understand why everyone has to prattle on about honor and duty and heroics and how these are "dark and troubled times" and things like that. We get it already, and honestly, no one talks like that in real life. In the first film, there is a scene where Bilbo refers to the One Ring as "my precious" to illustrate to the audience (whom Peter Jackson must presume are block-headed) that the ring is corrupting him. I don't recall such an obvious smack over the head occurring in the books (agreeably, while JRRT is not the "greatest English author", as JCOOD once tried to convince me, he is intelligent and subtle.) And please - doesn't Bilbo have half a clue as to this? (Maybe it's part of the ring's power, right?) But seriously. Weak weak weak. My second point of contention would be that the whole story hinges on a number of last second and highly improbable escapes from danger. Again, I think this is a purely cinematic issue. When someone's about to get killed, and then his or her friend shanks the would be murderer seconds before the death blow, credibility is lost. Maybe not on the first occurrence, but after the 6th, 7th, 9th, 25th...we start to see it coming. I think a much more exciting movie would have much more Hemingwayian heroics - people thrust into situations beyond their control and having to find real ways out. The good guys dying if they were in over their heads. Real dialogue, not elevated and fanciful drivel. 9) As an addendum to (8), here are lists of the characters that (a) were cool and (b) needed to be slapped. 9a) -Saruman -The war elephants -The king before the evil hold releases him, when he's all purple and decrepit. -The girl Sam dances with, and ultimately marries 9b) -Frodo -Sauron, for not being able to catch Frodo -Aragorn, only for his pronunciation of the line "Legolas - what do your Elf-eyes see?" He was within the acceptable bounds at all other times. 10) I really am so paranoid. These are in lieu of clauses. Clauses are funny, but detract from the post itself. 11) I read, one day on a whim, a 150 page book about a 12 year old girl whose sister is on marijuana. It was foolish, hilarious, and beautiful. I intended to devote a post to it, but I mean, seriously. 12) Ok, time to tough it out. Next post ho!... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/84/Send_Off">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Sat, 22 Sep 2007 00:53:00 -0400 Fredrickville.com-517 Second Play in One Act http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/83/Second_Play_in_One_Act <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/1/83.jpg" align=center border=2> Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial Preface: I'm actually pretty happy with myself these days. Sure, the diet is getting to me, and sure I shouldn't be up this late, but once in a while can't hurt, I figure. I do intend never to drink Arizona Iced Tea ever ever again. The following play is presented for your amusement. Any resemblance of the characters or themes to anything or anyone in real life is strictly coincidental*, etc etc. ======================================================================== (Play available upon request.) This is a J/M H Clause.... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/83/Second_Play_in_One_Act">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Wed, 08 Aug 2007 03:45:00 -0400 Fredrickville.com-486 BREAKING NEWS: Cleese Arrested http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/81/BREAKING_NEWS_Cleese_Arrested <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/1/81.jpg" align=center border=2> Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial Thought this would be interesting. ======================================================================= 7/11/2007: Retrieved from AP Wire John Cleese, the British comedian famous for his roles in Monte Python's Flying Circus and more recently as 'Q' in the James Bond films has been arrested at his California home on charges of selling crack cocaine. Police entered Cleese's home with a warrant early this Wednesday morning, approximately 18 hours after an undercover detective, who had been keeping in contact with Cleese for several months, successfully purchased 34 grams (about 1.2 oz) of crack cocaine from the well known actor in a private room at Los Angeles' kitschy "Cohiba" nightclub. <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/images/johncleese1.jpg"> After searching Cleese's 16,000 square foot Montecito ranch, police discovered what some have called a staggeringly large cash of drugs and controlled substances including mescaline, cocaine, heroin, and several types of amphetamine. Cleese was taken into custody by the Los Angeles police and is being held without bail after a brief hearing before the LA District Attorney. His wife is also being held for questioning related to the drug scandal. "It's shocking that such well liked and well respected celebrity could be mixed up in a large-scale drug racket right under our noses, but the evidence is certainly overwhelming." police Chief Bill Braxton commented at a press hearing held after the preliminary investigation of Cleese's home had concluded. Cleese had been planning to sell the ranch and move with his wife Alice to a home in Santa Monica. "Certainly this all happened very fast and we are still pouring over the evidence," continued Braxton, "just why Mr. Cleese would be involved in illegal drug trafficking we do not yet know." Cleese's spokeman could not be reached for comment on the events. ====================================================================== I always knew that guy was riding the white horse - but selling it? That's pretty brazen for a recognizable figure like Cleese. Also, Voldermort kills Hermione in Harry Potter 7 (she sacrifices herself to save Ron.) After Hagrid dies, Snape sacrifices himself to Voldermort so Harry can live. I have this all as fact. Just about everything I post is fact. ... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/81/BREAKING_NEWS_Cleese_Arrested">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Wed, 11 Jul 2007 14:12:00 -0400 Fredrickville.com-449 Please Remit http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/80/Please_Remit <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/1/80.jpg" align=center border=2> Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial Ok, here's what I'm saying. I was in rare form last night, which doesn't happen often, so either it's the diet, the freedom, or just a lapse in propriety. Hard to tell. What the hell is he talking about? What the hell am I ever talking about. Honestly. So, to grant you some respite from the de rigeur style of content on here that consists of 3 words and a video, I'm going to narrate a little story and then you're going to help me out. That means reading, comprehension, and participation. You like that, you say. Flash back to 1999. Or 1998. Doesn't matter. I'm in 7th grade English class - or "Language Arts" I think they called it. Year 2000 is looming on the horizon so everyone is thinking about the future. My teacher, Ms. Amanda Thompson, says we're to write letters to ourselves that will be opened in the future. Like, ask our future selves questions, and write a little about what our lives were like back in Middle School so when we open them as young adults we can get all nostalgic. This is how it went down: I wrote myself a letter (and since I don't adhere to a strong formulation of inter-temporal personal identity, the referent of "myself" in the previous sentence is identical with the typist right now - sorry, bad philosophical tangent) I write myself a letter, and it's a good letter - oh yes it is. Not only do I write lots of content, but I also draw symbols in the margin that have special meaning to me and have statements and questions encoded in them (because I figured Ms. Thompson would read them all, and I needed to ask some personal stuff.) Finished with my letter, I hand it in and ask Ms. Thompson, "So how are we going to get them back - and when?" Her: "I'll mail them to you when you turn 21" Me: "Really?" Her: "Yes" Me: "Are you just saying that? I'd really like this back. I know I'll be curious about it." Her: "Oh certainly. I really intend to mail them back. Don't worry." Me: "How will you get our addresses?" Her: "Don't worry, I'll figure it out." Sounds pretty authoritative, right? I am nearly 90% sure that the return date was when we turned 21, but there is an ever so slim chance I could be wrong. In any case, I haven't gotten my letter back yet. Now, I'm tempted to imagine that she probably tossed them out in the trash at the end of that unit of study, but I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. Especially Ms. Thompson. She had the misfortune of replacing seasoned Mr. Jones back in 6th grade. She was probably only 23 or 24 and recently graduated from Plymouth State. I had approximately as much tact back then as some of my readers do right now, and I thought I was hot stuff (I was and still am - "thought" does not imply a concession to the contrary) and I think I made her teaching experience a little rough. But then again, she flubbed all kinds of pronunciations, and obvi I'm a stickler for that. Yes, obvi. So, back in whenever when I turned 21, I got to thinking about this letter. I've actually thought about it from time to time over the years, but again, giving my teacher the benefit of the doubt I decided to wait and not keep pestering her about it. "Do you still have the letters?" I waited patiently for...what has it been? Eight years? And here I am, and I'm pretty sure I want that letter back. A lot. I want it as soon as possible. Or, if the date we were supposed to receive them was at our college graduation or something, at least check that she still has them. I think it's warranted. That letter has personal value for me, hidden messages, and important data. I need it. I was going to call her on my birthday and ask if the check was in the mail, so to speak, but I couldn't find her contact info. Here's your assignment: STALKING MY 7th GRADE TEACHER [Birth name:] Amanda Thompson (may have gotten married) [Education:] B.A. from Plymouth State no earlier than probably 94 or 95. No later than 97. [Age:] Approx 32 years. [Hobbies:] Cross country running. Once ran a mile in 5:40. Yes that is exact. Yes, my memory is good. [Tenure at WRMS:] Between 97 and 2001, perhaps. She is gone now. So, you guys are going to do whatever it takes to get her current, updated contact info and relay it to me. I need to know if that letter still exists and when I can get my pizza and chocolate stained fingers on it. Вы понимаете? Ok. Go. Fred was in this class with me and sat behind me. We used to talk about programming and draw pictures of Cheese and Double Stars. Fred, if you remember this letter writing assignment, join the bandwagon. Let's Jam.... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/80/Please_Remit">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Mon, 25 Jun 2007 01:09:00 -0400 Fredrickville.com-429 Class Post / Philosophical Discussion http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/79/Class_Post__Philosophical_Discussion <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/1/79.jpg" align=center border=2> Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial K/lacc post. I struggled with how to make a Cyrillic "L". I think that, given the prevalence of wireless on this campus, I should try this at least once. Maybe as a follow up to my posts from LHS and Nick's Closet. "Which" is used attributively, "that" is used referentially. The former is for matters which have already been referred to, the second is to refer. "A number of students has applied to the off campus program" Fat Man on Bridge: Standing on bridge above oncoming trolley. Trolley will run over 5 people if it is not impeded. May you push the fat man such that he falls on the tracks and impedes the trolley? What if the fat man is asleep and about to fall on the track? Must you wake him? Is it permissible to let him fall? To push him? The above is a segment of a lecture from Philosophy 37 (all credit where credit is due) This reminds me of a dialog c 2003ish: Byles: I am a vegetarian. Me: Why are you a vegetarian? Byles: Because I think it wrong to bring harm to animals. Me: So you have no prescription against eating meat itself, rather simply against harming animals? Byles: Correct. Me: So if someone cloned the cell structure to a shoulder steak without harming a cow, you'd eat it? Byles: Yes. Me: What if a cow were killed, but not through human agency, as in, if it were struck by lightning? Would you be permitted to sample its meaty flanks? Byles: Why, I suppose so. Me: What if I used a weather control device to invoke a lightning storm which incidentally took the life of a cow. Byles: Um... Henry: What if you shot a cow with a lightning gun? Byles: Shut up. Of course, we were just messing with him at this point. "What if a barking dog is traversing the bridge right as the rolling fat man is about to fall to his death, stopping the trolley, and saving the lives of the five children on the tracks below: ?" -Are we permitted in shooing off the dog so the fat man will fall? -MUST we shoo off the dog and ensure the fat man's demise? -On what account must we or may we allow the dog to walk across the bridge and wake the fat man? In Vermont, you can be fined for not picking up a drowning baby out of a bucket of water into which it has waddled. In New Hampshire, your negligence is not punishable. On Fredrickville, it is encouraged. ... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/79/Class_Post__Philosophical_Discussion">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Wed, 09 May 2007 12:37:00 -0400 Fredrickville.com-396 Barack http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/76/Barack <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/1/76.jpg" align=center border=2> Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial May update more soon. http://my.barackobama.com/page/community/blog/franklinrea... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/76/Barack">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Mon, 05 Mar 2007 15:07:00 -0500 Fredrickville.com-395 Dark Ages http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/75/Dark_Ages <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/1/75.jpg" align=center border=2> Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial Alright; amidst the confines of my sleep deprived, self loathing stupor it hit me: We are reentering the 1960s. The 1960s were basically a cultural dark ages for this country. People lost the ability to grasp the difference between good and bad art (trust me, it exists), and consequently, culture spiraled out of control. People's hair and fashion styles became ugly and misguided, and social sentiments of egalitarianism, communism, and the "hippie" mentality gave the lie to levels of ego-gluttony that have been as of yet unsurpassed. Music was whiny and "folk inspired," parading under the name of rock and roll. Losers gained celebrity status. Language and social attitudes tried so hard to be nonconformist that they ultimately coagulated into a new form of conformity. Fortunately, the 80s and 90s saw culture rescued by electronic music, elements of humor, and cynicism - but it was not to be for long - I assert that we are returning to the sorry state of affairs that was the hippie era. Think about it: the ingredients are all here. Mass political polarization, an unpopular quagmire of a war, and shitty music. Is that the first time I've ever cursed outright on the editorial? Damn straight, but I've always said I save it for when it's needed - and it's needed. Think about it: Since the mid 90s, music has been going way downhill. I just want to clear up a few things: The "Emo" trend was dumb, but at least it was laughable. So called "Indie" music has slid into the void Emo left and styled itself as the new pop, the problem being, people think it's cool. First of all, "pop" is shortened from "popular", so it's antithetical to the entire Indie movement to be describable as a form of pop - and yet increasing numbmers bands are labeling themselves this way. Second of all music is becoming universally characterized by acoustic instruments, pretentious, faux-deep lyrics, obscurantism, and inability to be danced to. I will rattle off a number of bands, most of which I have listened to briefly, who are guilty of these qualities and the degradation of modern music in general: The Decemberists Broken Social Scene Panic! At the Disco Sufijan Stevens The Shins The Strokes Belle and Sebastian Modest Mouse The New Pornographers ...and a number of others. Please. Your insipid "folk inspired" (yes this phrase carries weight once again, apparently) soft-(not)rock, un-danceable, annoyingly dissonant chords and airy emasculated singing disgust me. The new Modest Mouse CD was not life changing - anyone who says so is a tool. Problem is, I'm suddenly in the minority here, because counterculture fringe music like this is gaining widespread status (why ever?). How can anyone like music that can't be rocked-out to? ...and the proponents of this music - the new "cool" crowd also claim roots among the marginalized, anti mainstream philosophy. Well, the hippies of the 60s were, contrary to popular belief, mainstream, and so are these kids. Other similarities include unwashed or just plain weird hair, overblown egos, and claims of liberalism which they have yet to demonstrate. My prediction: One band will come to the forfront and become the new "spokesman" for this generation. A new Beatles, if you will. The war in Iraq will linger for a while, but finally a Democrat will be elected president and things will calm down. Finally, someone will reinvent Disco, all the burnt out bottom dwellers of society will condemn it as "lacking emotion" but they will have no leg to stand on because we don't like music for its deep social commentary, we like it for its musicality. If you want criticism, read a book. Listening to soft rock that clubs you over the head with thinly veiled political metaphors is for amateurs. History is cyclical. Undoubtedly culture will experience ups and downs for decades to come. Do you think this influx of neo-hippie-ism is a result of the 60s-70s hippie generation's kids finally coming of age? It's a thought. For the rest of us: tow the line, buy a responsible suit, get a job, and keep the cogs of capitalism operating while the children have their fun. Reap the profits from their merchandise and sales, watch them sell out, and chuckle inwardly that you heard it here first. ... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/75/Dark_Ages">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Sat, 03 Mar 2007 05:04:00 -0500 Fredrickville.com-371 Hazing http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/73/Hazing <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/1/73.jpg" align=center border=2> Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial The following is a list of comic/fictional characters for whom I would approve of arbitrary and cruel beatings with a baseball bat. 1) Calvin (Calvin and Hobbes) 2) Jeremy (Zits)* 3) the entire cast of "The Family Circus" I really don't like Calvin and Hobbes. Without elaborating too much, a quote from Bill Griffith (cartoonist and writer of the truly excellent comic "Zippy the Pinhead") seems to put it well: "I hate Calvin and Hobbes. I think its a big re-hash of formula kid strips. Everyone says how Calvin and Hobbes is about a real kid, to me there's nothing real about it; it's an adult using a kid's body as a mouthpiece. It doesn't make any sense to me. It has no charm. It's the most popular strip in America and right away I hate it." -Bill Griffith *The parents from Zits aren't my favorites either. ... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/73/Hazing">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Tue, 06 Feb 2007 14:23:00 -0500 Fredrickville.com-1 Everyone is an Expert http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/65/Everyone_is_an_Expert <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/1/65.jpg" align=center border=2> Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial A Categorical Dialogue between Mr. Spoon Esq. and the reader ensues below: I'm against freedom of speech. (Oh that's a laugh, Mr. "Spoon's Editorial") Well, let me rephrase that. I'm just get perturbed by the recent surfiet of self established demagogues. (Elaborate, please?) I guess this is going to be difficult to generalize. Let me get specific: The most popular sites on the Internet today are those that cater to the most fundamental of human goals: the apotheosis of the self. Facebook, MySpace, Blog-anything, Wikipedia, and Youtube are all founded around one basic principle - the user is the focal point. Facebook and MySpace are the ultimate egotism - existing only to showcase the self. A quick look around MySpace will show you countless highschoolers in melodramatic poses trying to sound intellectual or, in lieu of that, simply far more grown up than they really are. I'll say it once and for all: society is laughing at you. Wikipedia is unique in that it has a communal goal - the goal of free knowledge. Admirable, sure. But the real allure is that everything on there is provided by us - the proletariats. I mean, I've heard horror stories of underground teams of nerds who check Wiki updates every hour on the hour to edit out falsity, but even still, just about anyone can slip his or her opinion into an article undetected. Blogging and Youtube are the worst culprits of this culture of faux-expertise, however, as both of them raise the ordinary untrained individual to the status of a public figure. On Youtube, people like you and me are posting video broadcasts giving their opinions of sensitive topics - and what's worse - other people are listening! (I still want to say that the irony is not lost on me, Mr. Fatophobic Self Serving Bureaucrat) "Well right, you are in the right, and so I see it fit that we shake hands and part each as his business and desire may point him, for every man hath business and desire" (1) No, you might as well not read this column by my own convictions, but allow me one point on which I can prove myself unique - this column is chiefly about entertainment, secondarily about self-reflection (2). I'm not trying to showcase my views in an attempt to influence yours. I went back and bolded that last sentence because I think it encapsulates a lot of what I've been trying to establish over the years - that everyone is entitled to his or her views, but no one is entitled to sharing them in an obnoxious manner. Let's make an example of ol' Wobert. His entire column dwelled on picking things that he found offensive, stupid, or silly, and clubbing you with (well-written) subjective judgments as to why his opinion was correct. Quite frankly, not many people cared whether tight pants were bad for little girls and were more interested in seeing Wobert give himself apoplexy trying to convince us so. To get back on track, let's look at when I said "On Youtube, people like you and me are posting video broadcasts giving their opinions of sensitive topics - and what's worse - other people are listening!" (3) On Youtube (or Blogs) lots of people (men, women, teenagers, adults, and everything in between) are giving their own commentary and view on any number of issues. What peeves me is the degree to which special "experts" are beginning to arise. I hear every day of frequently subscribed Youtube channels or Blogs and it really boggles me. Since when did your neighbor become an expert political commentator? Why should I listen to a four minute spiel on religion? Or economics? Or culture, or "society" or whatever you people are calling it? WHAT ARE YOUR CREDENTIALS? To be fair, there are a number of blogs written by professors, political analysts, financial analysts, economists, and the like, but my real outrage is against the randos (4) out there who gain a following spewing (sometimes badly written) personal opinion. (Couldn't one make the argument that if a rando Youtubes or Blogs using researched sources, a neutral or objective tone, and good grammar and spelling then its (5) work, however unqualified through lack of established merits, should be considered valid?) Sorry, Cakey-cakes, but I'm going to have to stand firm on this one. Professors, economists, paid commentators, movie critics, and your friends and relatives all have one thing in common: They are asked, and often paid, to share their opinions. Randos on the Internet, even "intellectual"(6) randos (often the worst kind) are never asked. They are just throwing this stuff out there. The immensity of the self-congratulatory spirit in people irks me like none else. "I have a Bachelor's in Political Science so I'm qualified to blog about current events. No. Eat me, you lurd. If I want an opinion on current events, I'll use rationality to pick a source that I can confirm is either (as per my liking) not heavily biased, or very heavily biased. I prefer the former, there are many who prefer the latter. Searching through a list of blogs that cite their sources with online news or publications or Wikipedia (a double whammy) is like letting the blind lead the blind. (Uhh, you changed your point of attack there, Mr. Spoon - you were talking about the invalidity of work even by those who make an honest effort to use objective and reasonable sources when blogging and slid off into a diatribe against online publications and other non-objective sourcing) I know, that's why I separated paragraphs. In all seriousness, though, even if a blog or Youtube channel is objective and rational, there has got to be a hell of a lot of pretense in its origination. If you are an expert in a field, why not share your knowledge through conventional means? I entirely equate running a blog or videolog with self glorification. Even Wikipedia has usernames so we can find out who made what edits. I challenge you thus: If you really care about sharing knowledge of the issues (irrespective of the fact that there are more vetted and tried and true sources out there, and that no one asked you) then write a blog without your name or anything about yourself on it. Wear a funny mask in your Youtube skits. I swear, half of Youtube is douchey guys and emo-girls trying to look hot while talking about the ethics of staying the course in Iraq While I still won't read your anonymous work, I'll at least credit you with not being a thorough egotist. (Fair enough) Closing remarks: Let me start by saying, as in many occasions, I realize the irony of a post like this on my editorial (*cough*blog*cough). Let me reiterate that I'm just hear to entertain and self reflect. Half the stuff in here is not understood by the readers because it consists of inside jokes between me and myself. Snapple , and stories like it are badly written, contain no literary weight, and were designed to appeal primarily to people who know me personally and understand the people and places I describe. Spoon's Editorial only has the agenda of restoring balance and promoting spooniness. That was not Spiro Agnew on the phone with me a second ago. The following is a list of people who are not experts in anything: 1) Spoonman (me) 2) You (unless you have a doctorate, I guess) 3) Your parents 4) The kids you sit with at lunch 5) Maddox (but he's also about entertainment 6) Teenagers 7) Your Youth-Group leader 8) Your favorite band (they are sellouts, trust me) 9) cool kids 10) losers 11) randos. ========= Footnotes: (1) (Hamlet.1.v. from rough memory) (2) My proof for the self reflective nature of Spoon's Editorial editorial is the degree to which I jump around from idea to idea, the oblique references to my other posts, the oblique references to things I've read recently, and the insufficient (nonexistent) editing that takes place before a post is made public) (3) See above. Yes, footnoting a document in itself. That was the joke for this post. (4) Rando - N. (local dialect) Any person you don't know. From English "Random". Usage I walked into a room full of randos (I walked into a room full of random people who I didn't know) Eat me. (5) "Rando", being a genderless noun, takes the personal pronoun "it" rather than "he" or "she" (6) (And I assure you that I use this term in a sense which should be considered looser than your mom)(7) (7) See my post "Collage" 05/25/05 - Footnote of a footnote was the other joke for this post. ...and the part about Agnew and the list of people were stolen from another of my posts. Proudly written between 2:30 and 3am and not edited for content or sentence mechanics.... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/65/Everyone_is_an_Expert">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Fri, 29 Dec 2006 00:00:00 -0500 Fredrickville.com-2 Re:I figured out Mac users http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/64/ReI_figured_out_Mac_users Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial Corroboration with Robbie on a point about Macs. I thoroughly agree with this. Mac users love Macs because they have never known anything else. The slightly more skill-intensive PC frightens them and the are reduced to making claims about "great video editing software" and "better virus protection" while still paying more and falling victim again and again to a sleek look rather than useful applications and real performance. Things I don't like about Macs 1) One mouse button. What if I want to edit the parameters of whatever I'm clicking on? Do you really expect me to click and hold for two seconds while that menu pops up? What if I want it NOW? Is a second mouse button really that confusing? 2) No delete key. Well, there's "DELETE", but it really means backspace. Frankly, I like being able to edit text both ways - also, they could differentiate between text editing and file deletion, but no - DELETE hardly ever works with files. I have to drag a file "into the trash can" to remove it. To EJECT a CD, I have to drag the CD into the trash. This is counterinuitive as I don't want to think I'm deleting my CD. Also, a trash can doesn't contribute to renewing our resources. At least Windows recycles. 3) The CD drive - usually inaccessable from the actual device, I need to press a key or click something on the screen to open it - and that doesn't always work. What if I want to put CDs into a drive before the OS is loaded? Also, they usually have you push the tray back in manually (bad for the gears), meaning it will wear out faster and you'll need a new Mac 4) Non-standard shortcuts. CTRL - wait, I'm sorry - CELTIC-KNOT (or whatever that thing is) in combination with D means "Delete" in some programs but "Duplicate" in others. Sometimes, when I want to delete something, I mistakenly copy and paste it. 5) Too much whipped cream - yes, far too much fluff. Now, this is a matter of opinion, but the rainbow-pinwheel that takes the place of Windows' hourglass seems a little gay. Everything bounces and dances around when I get near it with my cursor or click on it. I don't need this. If there's a way to turn it off, they don't want you to find it. 6) BS programs like "Finder" and "Sherlock" (the latter is supposed to be a software copy of an internet search engine.) I once typed in "Elvis CDs" and returned #1 and #2 results of refinancing my home and enlarging my junk. No joke on that. 7) Lack of control. Where is the BIOS? Where is MS-DOS (or the equivalent)? If I really want to get nitty gritty with files, I can't. Probably most Mac-using soccer moms would think the computer was getting a virus if they saw an old fashioned ASCII black screen. Illiterates. Where is the quality? When you are in front of a Mac, it's using you, not the other way around. 8) Every good Mac device or App works on a PC. My iPod does and so does iTunes. Why drink the milk straight from the cow when I get have it from a glass? Actually, iPod is the only good device they've made, and I don't even like it much (bad file structure, too little control, again) 9) Clutter. Macs seem to make an icon for everything and usually it gets thrown on the desktop. It makes organization hard. When you organize into files, they aren't readily available as in My Documents or something - they get lost in a nonsenical maze that you need Finder to navigate. Adds too many extra steps. 10) Mouse too small for my hands. Seriously, what is that round thing? Why does it need a stupid nub? Just rip off the roller wheel and be done with it. Everything they make is second rate. Basically, it's like this If Mac made cars and not computers, they'd look really sleek or cutesy, and cost a lot, but oh... you wouldn't be done paying there... they'd only use Macintosh gas they'd only work on approved Macintosh roads they'd shut off randomly you couldn't modify them with anything You would be kept "safe" by for more airbags and seatbelts than are needed and all accidents would be handled the same way. If the car were going off a cliff, the seatbelts would hold you in tight. Creative and unorthodox moves like BAILING OUT would not be allowed. They'd advertise that their cars had steering wheels and strongly imply that no other cars did, acting as if they were the first to invent the obvious. Alright, done ranting. ... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/64/ReI_figured_out_Mac_users">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Tue, 19 Dec 2006 00:00:00 -0500 Fredrickville.com-3 Flag of Peace http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/63/Flag_of_Peace <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/1/63.jpg" align=center border=2> Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial Number one note is that I'm listening to Madonna right now. There exist questions that cannot be answered by man alone. I don't think I'm philosophical. "Monkeys are superior to men in this: when a monkey looks into a mirror, he sees a monkey" - Malcolm de Chazal "The globe itself refuses to be globalized" - Logan, This is me wearing a headset Check back later for more. ... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/63/Flag_of_Peace">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Fri, 15 Dec 2006 00:00:00 -0500 Fredrickville.com-4 HTML Capable http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/62/HTML_Capable Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial <center> <form action='http://www.poqbum.com' method='post' target='_new'><embed src="http://www.poqbum.com/Files/Games/Arcade-2.swf" quality="high" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="360" height="420"></embed> </form></center> <style type="text/css"> body{ background-color:ffffff; background-image:url(http://i59.photobucket.com/albums/g296/edge06/layouts/hearts.jpg); background-position:top left; background-attachment:fixed; background-repeat:repeat; } body, div, p, strong, td, .text, .blacktext10, .blacktext12, a.searchlinkSmall, a.searchlinkSmall:link, a.searchlinkSmall:visited{ color:b9006f; font-size: ; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: ; font-style: ; font-family:verdana, arial, sans-serif; } a, a:link, a:visited, a.navbar, a.navbar:link, a.navbar:visited, a.man, a.man:link, a.man:visited, a.redlink, a.redlink:visited{ color:b9006f; font-size: ; font-weight:bold; text-decoration: ; font-style: ; font-family:verdana, arial, sans-serif; } a:hover, a:active, a.navbar:hover, a.navbar:active, a.man:hover, a.man:active, a.searchlinkSmall:hover, a.searchlinkSmall:active, a.redlink:hover, a.redlink:hover{ color:790048; font-size: ; font-weight:bold; text-decoration: ; font-style: ; font-family:verdana, arial, sans-serif; } .orangetext15, .lightbluetext8, .whitetext12, .nametext, .btext, .redtext, .redbtext{ color:790048; font-size: ; font-weight:bold; text-decoration: ; font-style: ; font-family:verdana, arial, sans-serif; } table, td{ background-color:transparent; } table table table{ background-color: ; background-image:url(http://i59.photobucket.com/albums/g296/edge06/layouts/white-screen50.gif); background-position:Top Left; background-attachment:scroll; background-repeat:repeat; border-color:ff87d1; border-style:solid; border-width:2px; } table table table table{ background-image:none; } table table table table, table table table td{ border-style:none; } </style><div> Ultimately a defeatist game.... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/62/HTML_Capable">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Tue, 05 Dec 2006 00:00:00 -0500 Fredrickville.com-5 Spoon: Up All Night http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/60/Spoon_Up_All_Night <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/1/60.jpg" align=center border=2> Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial 0.0) Preface: Tonight's my last night at Dartmouth for the summer term. I'll be back in town for a short stint before classes resume in September. Because I'm done with finals, I told my job that I'd be willing to work the 1:30-8am shift. It pays insanely, so, you know. 0.1) Intention: Well, the gripe corner is back up and we've got some hot debate. Since I have approximately six hours to kill, I've decided to go all out and post a point by point analysis of the Dunkin Donuts issue. I realize this all gets me nowhere, but, it's something to do. 1.0) Assessment: 1.1) Machines: The following is snipped content from Robbie's rebuttal to my earlier words about the economic issues surrounding attempts to improve efficiency at the Dunkin Donuts franchise in Laconia: "I understand that if I really want something, I'd have to approach it in a way that would not burn the bridge I was trying to cross. Now, you've got a couple points. The biggest point is, I'm one person, and dunkin donuts is big, so my complaint doesn't make a bit of difference. The second point is that my suggestion would be expensive to impliment. Well, sort of. My real point was that you are one person and your complaint expresses only one point of view of the state of affairs. Secondly, that your proposed solution won't add marginal value to the situation at hand. Even though the computers you propose are probably expensive, the real issue is, "does the value added by the computer justify the price of the computer?" Even if the fixed cost of the computer were only $1.00, if it increased sales by 99c (per unit time period) then the machine would not be justified. 1.11) First Dialectic Interlude I realize I open myself up to criticism here on the preceeding point, which I will address preemptively in dialogue between Socrates and Phaedrus. Phaedrus: I assert that if Dunkin' Donuts purchases a computer for a price of N drachma, then the computer must undoubtedly pay for itself in sales, for sales are continual, and the cost of the computer is a one time investment. Eventually, there will be enough sales that N will be exceeded, and thus, in time, the cost of the computer is justified. Socrates: Hmm...interesting. I have but one question. What runs computers? Phaedrus: Why, electricity does. Socrates: Indeed, Phaedrus, and is electricity available freely to he that seeks it, or must a man purchase it from a power cooperative? Phaedrus: Why, he must purchase it, undoubtedly. Socrates: Then, Phaedrus, is that not already indication of a recurrent cost in purchasing a computer? For, electricity is purchased in wattage, thus, the more watts used, the greater the electric bill. Furthermore, I would like to address what you said about future sales making up for the price of the computer. Tell me this: would you rather have $100 today, or one year from now? Phaedrus: I would certainly rather have it today! Socrates: And why, Phaedrus? Phaedrus: Why, because then I could invest it for a year in stocks, bonds, or a good old fashioned bank account, make some interest, and a year later have more than $100 (with no risk in the case of the bank account). It is a clear choice that $100 today is worth more than $100 in a year. Socrates: Indeed, you are correct, Phaedrus. Then, by the same logic, is it not also the case that it would be more costly to lose $100 today then at a future date? Phaedrus: I agree, you are correct. Socrates: Then I conclude that investing in a computer at the present date would cost more than the simple sum of future sales totaling the pricetag of the computer. I shall call this phenomenon of the lower future value of money "inflation." Phaedrus: You are indeed wise, Socrates. (They walk out) Just to clarify, I know this really depends on the volume of sales. The fact of the matter is, we don't know (yet) what the volume of sales for this particular Dunkin' Donuts is. I do, however, maintain that it is not enough to warrant the purchase of a machine. My proof for why is recursive - we know that sales are not high enough to warrant the purchase of a machine because a machine has not been purchased yet. If the volume of sales were great enough to warrant one, then one would be bought. They will not buy one to appease just one upset customer. They will buy one to appease many upset customers - but don't let me get ahead of myself, this all will be addressed. 1.2) Fallacy of Composition: I want to comment here on Robbie's premise - namely that he has experienced bad customer service at Dunkin Donuts. As I was saying earlier, if many customers are upset, then the business faces potential loss of profit, and a smear on its brand name. Coporations that hand out franchises will not stand for this. Remember, it is the corporation that seeks to lose from the bad performance of a franchise owner. I seek to prove merely that the situation that Robbie described does not universally constitute "bad customer service" (BCS). I can prove this recursively - namely in 1) a company facing loss of customers due to BCS will be enjoined by the management to do something to improve itself, 2) Dunkin's of Laconia is not currently being forced by management into making strides to improve itself. 3) Therefore there has been no instance of BCS - but, since people like a deductive proof, I will attempt that too. Note that I said "loss of customers" (plural). This will be important for later. 1.21) Fallacy of Composition: The Proof Robbie has essentially given us two assertions 1) That he has experienced order fudging and 30 minute waits at Dunkin Donuts and... "Still, none of this is any excuse for poor customer service. Ask anyone in the customer service field what their goal is, and they'll tell you that it's to turn all customers around that aren't happy with their product or service. Ask them how many of the people who are unhappy tend to be polite. It's probably one out of ten. Does that make them happy? No. Does that make them want to help the people? No. But good customer service helps them anyway. It's kind of a challenge- let's get the angriest customer and make them happy. Yeah, believe or not, whether companies deem it neccessary to immediately turn a profit or not, nothing helps them in the long run like good customer service. " 2) That Dunkin' Donuts' has no justification for bad customer service. (BCS) First, let us define BCS. Using context from Robbie's argument, I will define BCS as behavior by the company that could result in the loss of customers. For instance, if I go to McDonalds and they give me a Big Mac instead of the Double Quarter Pounder I ordered, I'm not going to stop going there - therefore, I am not affected by BCS. If they overcharge me $5 and then refuse to reimburse, then I might not go to McDonalds anymore - therefore, I am in this case affected by BCS. What Robbie has not done is to connect the idea that his experiences at Dunkin' Donuts do in fact constitute bad customer service, and that by engaging in such practices Dunkin's of Laconia runs the risk of losing customers. He has made the assumption that what is true for him - that the experience he has had with Dunkin' Donuts, (including incorrect orders and long waits) constitutes BCS - is true for every other customer. Now, I am not unsympathetic - many incorrect orders and long waits are to me, also, an example of BCS and would make me reconsider giving Dunkin's my patronage. However, there is still not proof that what is true of the one (Robbie) is true of the group. This is why I asked Robbie in my post on the Gripe Corner whether he'd heard other people expressing the same sentiments. If those sentiments have not been expressed , then there is no evidence that what is BCS to Robbie is BCS to others, and likewise no evidence that loss of customers (plural) is an impending threat. That is, there is no evidence that (large scale) BCS has taken place. These other people simply accept slow service as a normal part of life. For some reason, it is just not enough to deter them from going to Dunkin' Donuts. Of course, if Robbie has talked to others and found that they do share similar sentiments, then BCS has taken place. By my earlier premise, "a company facing loss of customers due to BCS will be enjoined by the management to do something to improve itself." Thus, if Robbie is not alone, then Dunkin Donuts of Laconia will, sooner rather than later, do something to improve itself. If however, he is alone, then the company is not facing loss of customers due to BCS because the popular consensus is that BCS has not taken place. I am just trying to show that either Robbie is right and therefore help is already on the way, or that he is alone in his views and BCS is not really occurring. (See section 3.0). This is not the case of an evil corporation harassing all its patrons with BCS unchecked. Belief that what is true of oneself is true of the group is known as the "fallacy of composition", hence the title of this section. Now, to address the second point Robbie raises - that BCS on the part of Dunkin' Donuts is reprehensible and not justified under any circumstances. To this, I say I cannot agree more. BCS is not justifiable. However, as I have just shown, there is not clear evidence that BCS has taken place. What Robbie has essentially done is constructed what is similar to what is known as the "Straw Man" argument. He has made a statement that is easy to refute and attributed it to his opponent (in this case Dunkin' Donuts). 1.22) Second Dialectical Interlude Dunkin' Donuts: I maintain that I will treat my customers in ways x, y, and z. Robbie: But I think it's reprehensible to engage in practices that qualify as bad customer service! 1.23) Analogues What has happened is that Robbie has ascribed a position to his opponent without clarifying (as I showed in 1.21) that his opponent actually holds this position. The position that Robbie insists his opponent is taking is very easy to "knock down", (because nobody likes BCS,) which is why this logically flawed method of arguing is known as the "Straw Man." I'm sure Robbie would be very chagrined to know that the Straw Man argument is a method often used by the Republican party to gain support for its initiatives. 1.24) Third Dialectic Interlude: Homosexual: I would like to get married. Republican But I think it's wrong to debauch the sanctity of marriage! Naturally, everyone agrees that it is wrong to debauch the sanctity of marriage. The Republican has no trouble proving this. What he has failed to prove, however, is that the actions of the homosexual conclusively support the position that the Republican has assigned to the homosexual (i.e. that gay nuptials debauch the sanctity of marriage.) 2.0) Other points Every large company runs on computers. It IS the modern solution that fixes all. I feel like I'm talking to a baptist church here... Bestbuy would be dead without their inventory/checkout computers. They keep track of warranties that way. McDonalds would cease to function without their order computers. Can you see them on a busy dinner rush tring to just .. remember every order? Or write the orders on the side of a cup somewhere? If the next person in line had to wait until the first person's order was totally finished because the people behind the counter can't remember too many orders, yeah, I'd go to BK... etc. Are computers right for every company? I do agree that they improve efficiency if used correctly. I don't think anyone disagrees with this. However, if their cost is not justified - if customers are being satisfied with the status quo, then a computer is not yet necessary. What is true of McDonalds, Best Buy, and the other businesses Robbie mentions is not directly linked to Dunkin' Donuts. Dunkin's does not have to keep track of warranties. I have shown when it is cost effective to buy a computer and when not. I have shown that it is inconclusive whether or not all customers are being satisfied given the only evidence we have - only that Robbie is not satisfied. To restate, of course, if customers are not satisfied on the grand scale then this will be brought to the attention of the management and a solution will come, so there is no real need to complain. 2.1) A Good Example: "At my job, when a customer has a legit complaint, they're usually irate as well. And my response is an apology for the problem, and a suggestion to rectify the problem. Not an excuse for the problem. Customer service 101." I don't dispute that Robbie's goodwill is more customer friendly then the somewhat terse response he received from Dunkin' Donuts. What I do know is that a customer service representitive who is not facing a customer service crisis will regard Robbie's lone letter as an anomaly. Since he is not in her face, she does not run any risk by giving him a form response. As has been demonstrated time and time again, one reaps what one sows. Not all people are saints, thus we cannot expect them all to turn the other cheek when struck on the first. 3.0) Antithesis Robbie's argument is valid if taken in the following context. Robbie: I have experienced 30 minute waits and order mixups. This, to me, constitutes BCS. Furthermore, BCS is never justifiable, and since I have conclusively proved that BCS exists (because at least one person has experienced it, namely, myself,) then the actions of Dunkin' Donuts are unjustifiable. 3.1) Refutation of the Antithesis I tried to make it clear that the maxim of "BCS necessitates change" is only applicable on the grand scale because on the individual scale human opinions and preferences are so varied. Consider the following dialogue illustrating an extreme case of human opinion, which I hope proves why, although Robbie has been injured, and I sympathize with him, his opinion alone is not enough to induce action by the company. 3.11) Comic Interlude Martha Stewart: I did not receive my coffee in a carefully wiped down cup with a straw that has been cut at a thirty degree angle on the submerged end. This to me is BCS. BCS is reprehensible, and therefore, Dunkin' Donut's mistreatment of me is too. Dunkin' Donuts: Oh dear! We must retrain our employees so that we never engage in such poor treatment of customers again! My point in this overblown case is that even though Robbie believes his offense is justified, it is still just his opinion. Even though it might make so much sense to expect a certain level of treatment (such as getting orders right the first time), the case may - just may - be, that ones expectations are not those of the common concensus and thus BCS has not been committed on the grand scale. Remember, BCS is an act serious enough to warrant the loss of the customer - not merely an annoyance that people just accept. Maybe people just don't get that annoyed with the odd order mixup. It's certainly possible. 4.0) Apologies Robbie, please understand that this response comes merely from my love of the logical breakdown and discourse of an issue. I realize it is sometimes unsettling to read through something that seems to be punctuated over and over again with one's name and why one is "wrong". I assure you, my interest in this is not in one upsmanship (the reason Brian is always accused of being pretentious with his argument). My interest is solely in furthering discussion. That, plus I'm going to be up all night. I have to do something. edition 1.7. Editing is hard work.... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/60/Spoon_Up_All_Night">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Tue, 29 Aug 2006 00:00:00 -0400 Fredrickville.com-6 Secret Tricks http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/59/Secret_Tricks <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/1/59.jpg" align=center border=2> Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial Sometimes when it's late, I'll walk over to Novack Cafe in the basement of Berry Library to get candy and Rockstar(tm) from the vending machines. Over time, I made a very important discovery. The candy vending machine is of the kind that uses a type of coiled stop to dispense packages of goodies. Now, most candy (bars, gum, mints, Jolly Ranchers, etc) comes in a fairly rigid package that is handled well by the dispensing mechanism. Swedish Fish, on the other hand, come in a plastic pouch that doesn't settle well in the machine. Oftentimes, the mechanism will turn too far and dispense two packages instead of one. With only casual empirical data I would estimate that you can two Swedish Fish packages for the price of one in about 60% of purchases. This, coupled with the fact that Swedish Fish is an absolutely fantastic candy (much better than Jolly Ranchers) makes it an obvious choice. In sharing this discovery, many pointed out to me that there is a similar effect when purchasing Sour Patch Kids, which also come in pouches. These, however, are heavier than Swedish Fish, and thus on the first purchase it is quite common for nothing to come out. On the second purchase, both the first bag and a second bag will come out. In this case you are still paying double for the extra pouch - except in the case when some poor soul abandons all hope after the first pouch fails to come out, and you, crafty weasel that you are, and seeing the bag hanging precariously on the spring mechanism pay once and get two for the price of one. This post details how one might enjoy a statistically high, but not guaranteed chance of getting free candy at one specific vending machine in one specific library, if one happens to be in the Hanover area. Other vending machine tricks. Look at a coke machine. Count off the buttons from top to bottom or left to right as 1, 2, 3, 4 Press them in the order 4 2 3 1. Example: [ Coke ] <-- Hit this button last [ Coke ] <-- Hit this button second [ Diet Coke ] <-- Hit this button third [ Sprite ] <-- Hit this button first [Dasani] [Etc] You will be brought to a service menu. The red LED indicator that usually scrolls the message "Ice Cold Coca Cola 1.00" will display a new message to indicate this. Using the same controls, the buttons now become: Button [ 1 ] - Exit/Back Button [ 2 ] - Up Button [ 3 ] - Down Button [ 4 ] - Select Playing with the menus allows you to access such information as the number sold of each item and the temperature of the machine. You will probably not be able to score free product. This site provides a rather detailed analysis http://www.i-hacked.com/content/view/12/48/ ... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/59/Secret_Tricks">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Mon, 21 Aug 2006 00:00:00 -0400 Fredrickville.com-7 Orange Juice: Ghey http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/57/Orange_Juice_Ghey <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/1/57.jpg" align=center border=2> Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial Recently, I've been living in Boston. This could be a very exploratory post, so take it one bite at a time. Obviously I'm nostolgic. Posting the F.A.T. was clearly a look back into what I consider "the glory days." It's just like winning one for the Gipper, except George Gipp is really Leo Guyotte. This is what inextricably brings me back to FV, time and time again. Sure, I've had my criticisms - we've gotten some morons on the gripe corner, I used to argue with Dr. Bones* because he took a more progressive political outlook than I did, local hooligans take themselves too seriously, Wobert is the Jesusloving funpolice, etc etc. No one is perfect. I know I can be an enormous tool. <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/images/tools.JPG" align=center> The important thing, though, is that I've been writing this since 2002! That's a long time! A good introspective. Yes, many of my old posts are pure crap, but back in the day they were on the cutting edge. I especially love reading "Hilarious Situations" over again. I'm not sure if it's the line where I say "this is the best party I've been to in months" or the part where I make the assumption that 11:30pm is really really late at night, or maybe just the Gestalt, but in some ways I can hardly believe that was me. Ok, we all know that messing with Nick is really what gave that post its zing. That part is just timeless. Back to Boston, I was congratulating myself on catching the Green Line just in time when I decided to go adventuring as a toast to my good fortune. Stepping off at Kenmore, I quickly made my way to the party district. I'd been here a few nights before on a trolley with some kids who were dancing it up like they couldn't get anymore. I believe one was wearing a shirt that said "Douchebag not included." Point being, there are about two lounges that are 18+, and this particular night, I was about to get the old Arm in Trout runaround at both of them. 1st place: Filled with punk rockers. Musky odor seeping down the street for at least three blocks. A cranky old woman was outside smoking a cigar and grabbing her crotch in protest of her friend, a gray-haired man with a purple windbreaker, who had, as the woman had apparently just found out, "Voted for Bush." She was trying to call attention to him in a throaty, esophagul rot of a voice. The man kept putting up his hands and saying "Y'know, y'know." Foul. I passed by that basement of stench in no small hurry. 2nd place: Techno music. Mmm. Bright lights. Seemed like everything was going to be all right and I would get to pump up my jam - Not so, children, not so. I take a step closer and see that the line is all skinheads in wifebeaters and leather pants. Then I see a sign on the door: "Gay Dance Event, 21+" The bouncer is like "Lol pwnd!!!!eleven" I'm like "wtf not fair! lag!" But I knew that I had, in fact, just been owned. Then some gay guys step out of the door. One looks like Eminem and is wearing a shirt that says "Milk". I decided to get the hell out of there. Back at my retirement community, I amuse myself by reading the vandalism revisions on Wikipedia. This really is the best party I've been to in months. *In the 80s, we referred to Robbie as "Dr. Bones"... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/57/Orange_Juice_Ghey">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Thu, 15 Jun 2006 00:00:00 -0400 Fredrickville.com-8 F.A.T. http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/56/FAT Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial Fredrickville Aptitude Test: Questions are worth 100 points each. Max score: 1600. Time allowed: 25 minutes. Go. Name:_______________ Section 1: History 1) Who were the three original FV admins? 2) What was the original site address? 3) Why is the content section called "Kraut"? 4) What was the name of the column that all admins could post on? 5) Name up to three public enemies. (30 pts for 1, 70 pts for 2, 100 for all 3) 6) Who said: "I'm the one who does all the work around here. They'll all be sorry when I'm gone. Where will your Fredrickville be then?" 7) At the outbreak of the Iraq war, the content section of the website appeared under what title? 8} For many years Fredrickville linked to a biography of what American inventor? 9) What vegetable concentrate became the unlikely alias of a short lived superhero? Section 2: Math 1) Approximately how many spoons were collected during Operation: Spoon Heist? (Within 50) 2) Grid in: "Webjournal: The daily life of #___." 3) How many pages long was the post by Vegas Spades which earned him silver star honors and displaced Freakburrito as the top ranked member of the PGC? 4) Put these ranks in order from lowest to highest: Cadet, Sweaty Balls, Placator, Seraphim 5) Complete the quote: "Did you know that every number has two ___" - Guyotte 6) Fudge Rounds come in boxes of 8 and cost $1.08 per box. The cafeteria buys boxes and resells fudge rounds at a price of 2 for 25cents. How much money did the school gain (or lose) during Robbie's and Logan's consecutive bids for the Fudge Round eating title? 7) What is the approximate weight in kilograms of a 4 pound industrial sized can of peas? Answers: Hist: 1 Robbie Fisher, Erik Ellingsen, Logan Phillips 2 www.fredrickville.rocks.it 3 "Kraut" comes from the thick, pungent sauerkraut we made in Biology. The name was adopted to refer to the meat of the website. 4 "Seriousness" 5 Bill Nye, Millard Filmore, Ashley "why can't you be more like your sister?" Olsen 6 The Manic-Depressive Webserver 7 "Liberty Cabbage n' Junk" 8 Henry Ford 9 Cambell's Condensed Cream of Celery. Math 1 The common concensus estimates around 200 spoons 2 The daily life of #83 3 31 pages (in one night) 4 Cadet, Placator, Seraphim, Sweaty Balls 5 Two square roots! 6 As I remember it, Robbie ate 17 fudge rounds and Logan ate 15, for a total of 32. (four boxes worth.) The school, buying at 8rounds/$1.08 and selling at 2/$0.25 was losing $0.08/box. The total loss incurred was therefore thirty-two cents. 7 4 pounds divided by 2.2 pounds per kilogram = 1.814 kilograms ... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/56/FAT">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Tue, 06 Jun 2006 00:00:00 -0400 Fredrickville.com-9 Liturgical Interlude http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/52/Liturgical_Interlude <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/1/52.jpg" align=center border=2> Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial Grant them eternal rest, O Lord, and may perpetual light shine on them. Thou, O God, are praised in Zion, and unto Thee shall the vow be performed in Jerusalem. Hear my prayer, unto Thee shall all flesh come. Grant them eternal rest, O Lord, and may perpetual light shine on them. Lord have mercy upon us. Christ have mercy upon us. Lord have mercy upon us. Day of wrath, that day Will dissolve the centuries in ashes As David and the Sibyl bear witness. What dread there will be When the Judge shall come To judge all things strictly. A trumpet, spreading a wondrous sound Through the graves of all lands, Will drive mankind before the throne. Death and nature shall be astonished When all creation rises again To answer to the Judge. A book, written in, will be brought forth In which everything is contained, according to which the world will be judged. When therefore the Judge takes His seat Whatever is hidden will reveal itself. Nothing will remain unavenged. What then shall I say, wretch that I am?, What advocate entreat to speak for me, When even the righteous may hardly be secure? King of great majesty, Who freely savest the redeemed, Save me, O fount of mercy. Remember, blessed Jesus, That I am the cause of Thy pilgrimage, Do not forsake me on that day. Seeking me Thou didst sit down weary, Thou didst redeem me, suffering death on the cross. Let not such toil be in vain. Just and avenging Judge, Grant remission Before the day of reckoning. I groan like a guilty man. Guilt reddens my face. Spare a suppliant, O God. Thou who didst absolve Mary And didst hearken to the thief, To me also hast Thou given hope. My prayers are not worthy, But Thou in Thy merciful goodness grant That I burn not in everlasting fire. Place me among Thy sheep And separate me from the goats, Setting me on Thy right hand. When the accursed have been confounded And given over to the bitter flames, Call me with the blessed. I pray in supplication on my knees. My heart contrite as the ashes, Safeguard my fate. Mournful that day When from the dust shall rise Guilty man to be judged. Therefore spare him, O God. Merciful Jesu, Lord Grant them rest. Lord Jesus Christ, King of glory, deliver the souls of all the faithful departed from the pains of hell and from the bottomless lake. Deliver them from the lion's mouth. Neither let be swallowed by the abyss nor fall in the darkness. And let St. Michael, Thy standard-bearer, lead them into the holy light Which once Thou didst promise to Abraham and his seed. We offer unto Thee this sacrifice of prayer and praise. Receive it for those souls whom today we commemorate. Allow them, O Lord, to cross from death into the life which once Thou didst promise to Abraham and his seed. Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Sabaoth. Heaven and earth are full of Thy glory. Hosanna in the highest. Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest. Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, grant them rest. Lamb of God, who takest away the sins of the world, grant them everlasting rest. May eternal light shine on them, O Lord. with Thy saints for ever, because Thou are merciful. Grant the dead eternal rest, O Lord, and may perpetual light shine on them, with Thy saints for ever, because Thou are merciful. ... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/52/Liturgical_Interlude">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Fri, 07 Apr 2006 00:00:00 -0400 Fredrickville.com-10 This is not "Direct My Wrath" http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/51/This_is_not_Direct_My_Wrath <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/1/51.jpg" align=center border=2> Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial Three Years in, and three Rockstars, I am not quite as vitriolic. I am foing a paper of sorts and sometimes you just can't get it right. All I kknow are a few facts. 1)I am the postman. 2) You are not the postman 3) J Edgar Hoover dining with Truman Capote - sublime. 4) The room is cold. 5) Robin Hood does not exist. I'm not crying out to you for help i have only myself to blame. pure unadulterated filth. the picture on the far wall is cro-magnon man. you can tel he's from the 60s (70s) I read a quote on AIM the other day and I really think it fits - "The mark of a great man is, as bad as things get, he remains sarcastic in the face of it." That's about where I am right now. Hyped up on stimulants, selling out, crashing, burning, no discretion, four arms, I will beat this house to the ground. thank you very much. don't pay any attention to that man behind the curtain. I am the great and powerful postman. ... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/51/This_is_not_Direct_My_Wrath">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Thu, 16 Mar 2006 00:00:00 -0500 Fredrickville.com-11 Gold. http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/50/Gold <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/1/50.jpg" align=center border=2> Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial Four years. Over 116 posts. No capitulation. No comeuppances. A handpicked list of the most outrageous, the most scathing, and the most hilarious epigrams in Spoon's Editorial, from 2002 to 2006. The author's views are fresh, edgy, and savvy. He's clever enough to pick the right words for the desired effect, but straightforward enough not to be ambiguous or skirt around the issue. Spoon's Editorial is estimated to contain over 100 pages of text. It is the largest and most read column on Fredrickville. Every so often there's a thought or a one-liner that is worth repeating. Finally, we have compiled a list of the best original material from the most outrageous column on the net. Self Reflection 03/04/02 I mean, I'm not a moron, but I do think I'm indestructible. 03/06/02. I'm getting used to having to avoid being hit by flying objects, it has almost become second nature to me. 10/07/02 I'm sitting at my machine, staring at a blank sheet of Word 2000, and realizing that for all my eloquent language, my depth of knowledge, and my devilishly handsome face, I have absolutely no work ethic. 12/06/02.Now as most everyone knows, I never carry American money. 04/04/03 It's almost 5pm. You know what that means...I can catch the re-run from 3pm. Hot Damn. (on WGBH's Zoom) 05/02/03 A few days ago I went to the dentist - oh how I loathe the dentist. 11/23/03 "Caro wha??" (Trying to dodge the inevitable) 06/25/04 I definitely do not want to do a job that requires me to accomplish anything useful, like bringing goods to a location, or creating anything. I want a job that involves me writing or filling out paperwork, furthering the "red tape," managing others, or using a computer. Or possibly seeking adventure. Anything less will infuriate me. Advice 02/01/02. You have to act like everything's perfect. I can't stress enough: the best way to be diplomatic and not make enemies is to CONFORM, CONFORM, CONFORM (only to their faces of course.) 03/12/02. I've refrained from touching yogurt ever since it became the vehicle for destroying the youth of America. Giving kids yogurt reinforces the belief that it is ok to get fat on mushy foodstuffs without having to cook anything. That must be why you're all so fat. 03/20/02. Work harder, work longer, make more of your time. ... It's not the school's duty to give you time for your social life either, more accurately, a social life is a luxury that should come after all your work is complete. 01/25/03 I would like to see people start thinking with their heads and not with their gall bladders, or whatever other body part may be giving them the gall to make such off color remarks. 01/25/03 I've always said that teenagers are the last people who need to have their voices heard, plainly because the dumb ones say dumb things (i.e. such topics as "America sucks," "School is trying to screw me" and "Life sucks") and the smart ones say even dumber things - (i.e. "Communism is a good idea," and "We have the right to the same treatment as adults") Vitriolic 06/07/02 I'm foing the bio report pig lab hate biology going to punch somthing! 06/16/03 Prove that it causes death. It doesn't cause death. You cause death. (On smoking) 01/31/04 And it was unfortunate that they caught me with a spare moment - a spare moment when the adrenaline was flowing through my veins. 01/31/04 Self esteem is probably one of the most overrated concepts of the late twentieth century, akin to cancer and electric cars - a hoax of ridiculous proportions. Comical 04/13/02 "Did you know that every number has two square roots?" -Guyotte 02/01/02."Am I chugging this?" I ask. "You're totally chugging it!" says Robbie 02/06/02. Guyotte was on the move. Guyotte could take on the world...in terms of math ability. 04/21/02. Using Fredrickville as a place to complain about personal problems is not what Fredrickville is about. Fredrickville is about robots, driving golf carts into the lake, glow in the dark herring, and sulfuric underwear. 11/13/02. ...all I can think of is a man with a gigantic trout latched onto his arm, up to the shoulder, and thrashing around madly. Arm In Trout. 01/08/03 Instead of 85 chunks of lobster, Fede assigned 85 math problems. 01/24/03 Sometimes I really can't think of jokes so I just say things that I think Fred will laugh at if he reads them...liiiiike...for instance, "Slantybones" 03/31/03. Upton Sinclair the second was eaten. (He was an apple) 03/31/03 Robots continued to evolve until present day, they are no often larger than humans, and invariably predisposed to ridding the earth of mankind so that they can create a new robot utopia. Robots hail all machines as the prophets of a new era. 03/31/03 A wise man once said, “Now with the humans out of the way, I can rule the Roboverse.” He was never farther from the truth, for what man can rule the Roboverse lest first he come and follow the robot? 04/27/03 After the operation we played basketball outside. Not really basketball, more of a brawl with that specific type of ball and a hoop. 10/30/03 This Halloween, let us all sit serene at our doors waiting for the youngsters to come adorned in their sequined splendor, and when they ask us, in soft voices, the timeless mantra, "Trick or Treat?" we shall be ready to correct them, "Trick or Trout" and spoon into their candy bags a viscous helping of pulpy fish entrails. 07/08/05 What time is it? Mack-thirty? Time to go do some macking. 01/22/06. Depicted here is avant-garde artist Zhu Yu getting his fetus on. Cynical 04/30/02 I have come to the conclusion that no one I've ever met knows anything. 06/14/02 I wouldn't use the term literary septic tank to describe the writing of my 'peers,' but it's pretty *darn* close. 06/20/02 Good thing the internet is here so we can put everything out in the open, blown way out of proportion, and reeking of panda love. 07/21/02.I found the camp just as Fred's last post described it; infested with an overweight staff, grubby children sporting all styles of hair including but not limited to mohawks, dreadlocks, and crew cuts. 11/28/02. Today in Byles' class Logan kept score. We won 5 to -2. You know what I'm talking about 12/06/02.The punch looked like vomit, but tasted surprisingly better. 12/06/02.As if I'd have to resort to charm at the middle school. 01/18/03 I almost just typed "I love you all," then I didn't, because "all" includes way too many people. 05/02/03 The entire dental health community is composed of a bunch of quacks who want to shoot lasers at your mouth, invade it with pointy and anger-inducing tools, and then offer you bogus suggestions as to why you should allow this to be done to you more often 05/22/03 On my 18th birthday, the first thing I'm going to do is go down town and exercise my rights to smooth taste and low tar by buying a pack of cigs and smoking it all down. 07/14/03 I mean seriously, not to overly glorify the cyborg children with praise they don't deserve, but would you be intentionally cruel to a kid in a wheelchair? A mentally infirm child? While the temptation is to say "yes" I would certainly think that in reality the answer is "no." 01/31/04 School is essentially a job, or if you cannot view it that way, a machine. 01/22/06 Too fat for your own good? I thought so. Miscellaneous 01/30/02. "And he walked in, and they were all over him like a cheap suit in 5 seconds, but he fought his way over to the table and grabbed his cheese grater. There he stood, 1 vs. 5, he grinned derisively; things were going to get messy..." 06/10/02. "...he belched obscenely and without warning; he sang vile songs about the Steinbeck novels when provoked" (On Fatty Mohawk) 06/20/02 I think Duke Nukem put it best: "Dr. Proton, I'll kick your butt and still have time to watch Oprah!" 10/07/02 Pete told me that he doesn't even read Doonesbury in the newspaper because the blurbs are too long. 11/17/02.Best of all, I took ALL the spoons from the coffee room, which forced people to stir with their fingers. Hehehehe. I am so immature. 01/22/03 In other news, I like bread. That's not news! You just stole it off Pete's bumper sticker! 02/24/03 There's something so uncouth about a large multifloored building when completely empty and unlit. 10/08/03 Sitting here supposed to be writing something else and eating Peperoncinis in vinegar. Vinegar and keyboard don't mix. Mouth burning. Loving every second of life. Snapple I I grabbed him by the wheelchair and rolled him into the woman's bathroom, saying something like "let's see if I can solve world hunger." I have no qualms about walking in a women's bathroom. He'd been on a three day bender with no salsa and chips Then, not wanting to be in the same room as Farrington longer than necessary, I ran to the room across the hall and hid behind the bed. I was still wearing the same clothes, but my hand was no longer bleeding. Time travel heals all wounds I guess. A big fat guy with a big mustache. I'd say about 200 pounds. The man, I mean. Atherton rushed in from the next room, his hands stinking of formaldehyde. Everyone in the class was taking a test. It was the test on phtophosphorylation. Stupid 2001. What a bad idea that was. Snapple II St. Georges went totally Kung Fu, and began attacking them like crazy. I rolled myself over and saw that I was still alive, for which I was very relieved, because had I been dead, I would have begun to doubt my own existence. Because the nuances of time travel are utterly confusing, I will cease to elaborate on them from this point forward. I was somewhat dizzy, and had the taste of prunes in my mouth, and as we all know, a prune is not a vegetable, cabbage is a vegetable. Snapple III Your fearsome house cat has ruined my mother's ancestral home "My mother has died seven years ago on account of that cat" Ted Kennedy and Bill Cosby take over the world...Kennedy becomes president because he deserves it! From what I could see, it appeared to be wearing wooden pants, rubber socks, an iron shirt, and cotton coated shoes. Old Navy. How Unfashionable. Some overalls were lying in a ditch...better take them just in case. The robot shot a stream of putrid, dark colored smoke out of its nostrils and high into the air. Then it took out the proportionally sized jaw harp and began to lull the city with cruel music. Le Monde There was another water fountain mounted a lot lower for easy cyborg access, and I tried that. It worked alright, but the water tasted like sweaty poison. For a robot, it looked very high quality. And I know my robots. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Timeless Material. Who knows what the future holds? It's likely it can only get better. "Contrary to popular belief I actually do know where it's at." - Spoonman ... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/50/Gold">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Fri, 27 Jan 2006 00:00:00 -0500 Fredrickville.com-12 Dietary Interlude http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/49/Dietary_Interlude <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/1/49.jpg" align=center border=2> Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial Let's not mince words - Fredrickville is not exactly club med, and the kind of clientele that hang around here are not really, as one might say, in peak physical condition. That's ok though, it happens. I mean if you wanted to quantify everyone in terms of foodstuffs, it seems we've got about four Christmas hams, three flabby, mushy, white slices of Wonderbread, and two sacks of kitty litter. Yes I realize I said food. No, you were not one of the sacks of kitty litter. How do you know I'm talking about you? I am. Not him. Not anyone else. I was actually thinking about you when I typed this. Anyway, back on topic, I think it would be worthwhile if I proposed a little dietary plan that I've been using for the past year and a half. It's kept me hard, lean, and full of energy, and I've never felt more alive. No, it doesn't involve juicing, vitimans, hypnotism, or molestation. Nothing more than plain old eating right. Too fat for your own good? I thought so. Just stick to my easy food guide pyramid and watch your tubby gut melt away. <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/images/FTRFood.JPG"> Now, there are two caveats: The first being when you absolutely cannot go without food, substitute a few servings of the "nothing" category with either steak, babies, or pizza. <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/images/taboo2.jpg"> Depicted here is avant-garde artist Zhu Yu getting his fetus on. Note that he appears to be in excellent health from following my easy plan. The second caveat is if you are not hard enough to chug a Rockstar you may have to substitute it with coffee. Don't put sugar in the coffee and for crying out loud, don't put cream in it either. Avoid all white foodstuffs, as they will make you as whey-faced and chubby as a minstrel boy. Finally, just to make sure you're not slacking off, make sure you are constantly rocking out to music, or thinking about rocking out to music. Try it. Maybe you can slim down enough to fit into that pair of sensible twill slacks lying in your dresser and your rump will be toned enough that your boss will actually feel like giving you a raise.... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/49/Dietary_Interlude">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Sun, 22 Jan 2006 00:00:00 -0500 Fredrickville.com-13 Ideological Interlude http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/47/Ideological_Interlude Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial Not a bad little test. Some questions were ambiguous, some needed to take more information into account, and on some I could have gone in either direction, but, in any case, here are my results. <center><table style='border:1px solid black'><tr><td align=center> You are a <center> Social Liberal (61% permissive) </center> and an... <center> Economic Conservative (60% permissive) </center> You are best described as a: <center>Centrist</center> <table id="thetable" name="thetable" background="http://is1.okcupid.com/graphics/politics/chart_political.gif" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" height="375" width="375"> <tbody><tr height="131"> <td width="212"></td> <td width="162"></td> </tr> <tr height="243"><td width="212"></td> <td align="left" valign="top" width="162"><img src="http://is1.okcupid.com/graphics/politics_you.gif" border="0"></td> </tr> </tbody></table> <table id="thetable" name="thetable" background="http://is1.okcupid.com/graphics/politics/chart_basic.jpg" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" height="375" width="375"> <tbody><tr height="131"> <td width="212"></td> <td width="162"></td> </tr> <tr height="243"><td width="212"></td> <td align="left" valign="top" width="162"><img src="http://is1.okcupid.com/graphics/politics_you.gif" border="0"></td> </tr> </tbody></table> Link: <a href='http://www.okcupid.com/politics'>The Politics Test</a> on <a href='http://www.okcupid.com'>OkCupid Free Online Dating</a> Also: <a href='http://www.okcupid.com/oktest3'>The OkCupid Dating Persona Test</a></td></tr></table></center>... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/47/Ideological_Interlude">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Mon, 16 Jan 2006 00:00:00 -0500 Fredrickville.com-14 The Quickening http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/46/The_Quickening <img src="http://www.fredrickville.com/boards/1/46.jpg" align=center border=2> Fredrickville Column: Spoons Editorial Author's Note: This story will not have pictures. I have made an attempt to be as descriptive as possible in hopes that it will hold your attention. I hope you will read and digest it all, because it's not actually that bad. If you would prefer pictures or overall brevity, I encourage you to read some of the other columns. I would also like to add that I strongly suspect that this will get me in trouble. Alas, the image of the persecuted writer is all too archetypal. The Quickening Stave I The year is 2006. In a poorly heated dorm room of one of rural New Hampshire’s own public universities, one unfortunate soul has succumbed to an existence of total depravity. At quarter to six each morning, without fail, Jeff Chase is roused violently from his slumber. While the rest of the campus sleeps, he is forced to toss and enjoy the salad of his cumbersome lover. When the deed has been done, his still bleary-eyed face is removed forcibly from the flesh of his captor and then pressed deep into a pillow and held fast, smothering him until he loses consciousness. Slipping into a fuzzy brown bathrobe, Krin’s feet touch the cold floor. She removes the rawhide ties from her dresser, and secures her captive’s limbs to the bed to ensure that he will be waiting, helpless, upon her return. Jeff’s motionless body glistens with sweat. He lies twisted on the bed, breathing with raw, short intakes after the abuse he has just received. His hair, once lustrous and healthy, hangs at the sides of his face, combed from a greasy partition at the middle of the scalp. He is naked except for a cheap pair of jockey shorts. The room is small and dingy. Empty bottles of Mike’s Hard Lemonade litter the room, alongside granola bar wrappers, and a stick of deodorant that has been ground into the carpet and is now caked with crumbs and small pieces of dust. The window shades are drawn closed. Jeff’s captivity in this room of an all girls’ floor of Blair Hall is the best-kept secret at Plymouth University. His turgid and cruel mistress rules his piteous existence, dictating his waking and sleeping hours, supplying his only source of nourishment, and cutting off all his contact with the outside world. Jeff entered the boudoir of this fiend as a guileless and kind if not somewhat misguided boy. However, following his agreement to live in Krin’s proverbial cellar of debauchery, his freedoms have been severely truncated. His contact with his family was quickly severed. From the start Krin was aware that the only way she could effectively mold his supple and yearning character was to become his only confidant in the world. The family is a bastion of trust on which all of us rely. In order to bring her would be captive to the point of supplication at her undoubtedly swollen feet she would have to assume the role of both mother and wife. Just as those who are indoctrinated into dark and dangerous cults are denied access to the outside world to prevent them from thinking for themselves, so would Jeff’s concept of reality have to be engineered to serve Krin and Krin alone. Within a few months, his access to AOL Instant Messenger was denied. Soon after, he was forbidden to visit chat websites, community websites like www.fredrickville.com, or to use Wikipedia. His online time would be dedicated only to playing online games and praising Krin on his “MySpace” account. Phone calls off campus were prohibited, and furthermore, Jeff was required to wear a pager linking him directly with his succubus at all times. Because he lived in her room illegally, there was between the two of them only one door key. Jeff was required to be in the room at all times of the day except when Krin was free to keep a watch on him. He was expressly instructed never to leave campus and never to talk for more than eight minutes with another girl, or fifteen with another boy. He would attend class and take notes, but answer no questions, and then march directly back to his dungeon. He would not enter the dining halls nor use the public toilets without Krin’s permission. In case of emergencies, a plastic bag was kept in a small closet in the room, whereby it would be possible for him to answer the call of nature if he was absolutely overcome by necessity. What Sword of Damocles did Krin hold over Jeff’s head that he would learn to accept such brutal treatment? The answer is actually quite obvious. Krin offered Jeff affection that he had never known, and he offered her the servitude she craved. Fearing of course that after a few months of dating Jeff would gain the confidence to look elsewhere, Krin decisively chose to entrap him in her cloisters, and thus ensure that she would have no short supply of the twisted and incessant worship or of the perverse sexual gratification that she required. Stave II On a brisk morning in March, Robbie Fisher wheeled his dark blue Toyota into Plymouth’s student parking lot and trudged across the campus. The ground was still icy and frozen from the winter’s snow. In tow with him was an entourage comprising his most trusted companions: Brother Sam, heterosexual life partner Kallie Ploof, and kindred spirit Andy Mallet. They all wore fleece parkas and mittens. Robbie had on a pair of green ski goggles that made him look like he knew what he was doing. Approaching the unkempt entrance of Blair Hall, the group was met by a feeling of uneasiness. The group, you see, was on a mission to locate their former friend Jeff, missing for over a year. His whereabouts had been reported in the area by sources Wayne Rowe and Kristin Warburton, and shortly after it was decided that a handful of his former acquaintances should make an attempt to locate him, and upon doing so, to persuade him to throw off whatever charade he was currently playing and to return home as far south as Tilton. If Jeff could not be found on premises, or if extracting him proved difficult, the group’s secondary objective was to reconnoiter the campus in order that a second team might be sent to remove him by force. The reason for this directive lay in the suspicion that he was being held against his will, or that he had been brainwashed or otherwise coerced to abandon his former life. The group split up to explore the floors. Intelligence suggested that Jeff was residing on either the second or third tier, so investigation began in these areas first. On the third floor, Robbie had a near miss with Pete Green, but managed to avoid engaging him in conversation by ducking into a messy washroom. Sam and Andy quickly located a room on the second floor reputedly occupied by one “Krin Josephine Montero.” The information Kristin had provided confirmed this location as the area in which Jeff would be found. Bam! Bam! Bam! Staccato impacts on the thick wooden paneling woke Jeff from where he lay half drowsing on the unmade bed. He stumbled drearily to the door, expecting that his lover had returned early for a pick me up. (As it was only ten in the morning.) Half in shock, he found himself staring into the eyes of a girl he only vaguely recognized. Through that pair of eyes, Kallie looked in disbelief at an appalling site. When she had last seen Jeff, he was wearing American Eagle jeans and a suede jacket. Now he was clad in ill-fitting Dockers and a crusty green sweatshirt. His face was wan and pale; although he had evidently put on at least thirty pounds because he had given up the rigorous exercise program he had devised to impress an earlier romantic interest. His lips and cheeks stained with condiments of undistinguishable origin and his fingernails had been nervously chewed raw. There was no evidence that he had bathed for at least a week (probably because this privilege had been denied him.) His hair was parted in the middle and curled down at each side. All that was left of his goatee was a bristly scruff of brown and red hairs, which curled lewdly around his pimply chin. His eyes stared glassily forward. “Hi, guys,” he managed to choke out, before inhaling huskily. Sam and Andy’s jaws dropped. Kallie started politely, “Jeff…we need to talk.” Robbie was more direct. “Sit down and shut up you big fat fuck!” He paraphrased a familiar movie. Jeff tried to back into the room, but Andy enjoined him: “Jeff, you’re coming with us. This is no way to live.” Jeff suspected that something like this would happen at some point, but he had not thoroughly decided how he would deal with the situation. In a fey, lilting voice, he managed, “I can’t today. I’m busy.” Robbie and Andy looked at each other is disbelief and then back at Jeff. “You’re not busy! You don’t do anything! We’ve heard the stories.” Jeff, knowing that Krin would cast him by the wayside if he dared disobey her, but not having a leg to stand on, cringed back into the darkness and safety of his dungeon, afraid to face the light. Sam, who had not yet said anything, took a step to follow him in, but was immediately overcome by a thick, musky smell: months of greasy food, lotions, and sweaty sex had coated the walls and floor with a sour odor. The boy reeled back while Robbie stepped to take his place. “Jeff, you know us, you need only come with us for a few hours. We have a car waiting…” Jeff cut him off, “I have to be here for the next few hours. I’m meeting people.” The boldfaced inaccuracy of this statement offended Robbie, but he kept his mouth shut. Sweat had begun to form under his green ski goggles, which he was still wearing. The entire group was getting antsy. “Jeff…” Andy began again. At this moment Jeff decided it would be a good idea to remove his pants. Exposing a hairy pair of legs made Andy almost lose his lunch, but he stuck to the plan. Robbie continued, “We know you have obligations to your girlfriend, but I’m sure she’s reasonable and wouldn’t mind if you spent time with your old friends for a few hours.” “I can’t!” insisted Jeff. His mind was frantically searching for some justification, “I need to be here so that she can get back in! I have the key!” “But we’ll be back before she gets back!” Robbie emphasized, already exasperated. He was already realizing that there was no hope. The idea that Krin would return at noon, expecting to be gratified once again before bringing Jeff a little lunch from the dining hall was a nauseating, but inescapable reality. Repugnantly, the four turned their backs on Jeff, leaving him in the squalor. Before they shut the door on him once again, Sam admonished, “Jeff, you should have come with us. We have no choice now.” “No choice for what?” “We’re going to ask some other people to come get you, and you’ll have to do what they say.” Jeff dismissed this, turning back to the sickly blue glow of Krin’s computer monitor, where he had called up a website about Japanese Manga. He didn’t even watch as the group shut him in the room and walked back down the hall. Stave III A week later, Krin walking across the central quad on her way back from class. In her hand was a plastic bag containing a sandwich, some lubricants, and some pantyhose, all of which she had picked up at the local Hess Express. It was late afternoon. She was expecting to return to Jeff, pop in a DVD, and slurp a plastic bottle of Welch’s grape juice while he gave her a back massage. Then they would hop under the dirty covers and rut like stoats until six in the evening, at which point she expected to become bored with her human toy, and leave to go drink with friends. Giggling viciously to herself at the idea, she then imagined herself tottering home after indulging a bottle or two of Zhenka and forcing Jeff to shove her off a few more times before she collapsed on his naked chest, her hair matted and her breath stinking of gin. Her thin, maroon lips pinched together gleefully in anticipation of her planned defilement of her captive. The daydream was split by something quite unexpected. The rhythmic roar of a very powerful engine shook the sky overhead. Looking up she saw a large black helicopter closer to the ground than is ever seen in day-to-day life. It was clearly of a military design, but on its small winglets were mounted large speakers. The vehicle was so close to the ground that Krin could see the pilot inside maneuvering above the central dorm quad. He was wearing a pair of sunglasses and a headset with a mouthpiece. Other students had taken notice also and were looking up in amazement. Without warning, the speakers on the wings of the helicopter crackled up and began blasting the first few bars of the Axel Foley Theme. Then a voice came over them, distorted as through a public PA system. “Clear the area, we are landing,” it commanded, before the speakers switched back to music. This time it was Bark at the Moon by Ozzy Osborne. Students scattered from the scene. The helicopter touched close to earth. Krin had no inclination of the intent of those aboard it. It so happened that the pilot was one Jarred Demontigny, a decorated combat veteran. He dropped the craft within a few inches of the mowed grass of the quad so that his compatriots could exit. Franklin T. Rea, Logan Phillips, and Wayne Rowe, dressed in black athletic gear leapt from the door on the side while Jarred continued to blare music from the speakers. The commandos were equipped with backpacks containing lock breaking materials, restraining devices, and smoke bombs. Before anyone knew what was going on, they made a run for the dormitory directly across from where the helicopter had landed. They barged through the door of Blair Hall and raced up the steps in single file, feet pounding on the wooden steps. Wayne reached the top first and instantly pointed out the room where Jeff could be found. Logan and Franklin removed steel rods from their packs and smashed the hinges on the door until it fell in. Jeff, who was jamming out to pirated mp3s of Bon Jovi, was caught totally off guard. With Wayne on the lookout, Logan and Franklin seized the disoriented prisoner and dragged him toward the door. Once in the hall, they pinned him down and tried to bind his hands with gauze, but by now he was beginning to put up a fight. Wayne stepped on the back of the Jeff’s neck as Logan tried to restrain him, but to no avail; Jeff was rolling around like a greased pig and it proved impossible to bind him effectively. Franklin found a solution. Producing a syringe of muscle relaxant from his pack, he shot Jeff up in a vein under the armpit. Within seconds, the thrashing quarry went limp, and the three took him by arms and feet and began dragging him towards the staircase. Outside however, Jarred had another problem. He saw, from the corner of his eye, an all too familiar face, or rather nose, charging his position. Alex Rinkytink Martin, wearing a Vietcong style, large brimmed rice-picking hat and carrying a fistful of cheap fireworks was charging the helicopter. Jarred radioed his drop team. “We’ve got goddamned sappers on the ground! I need to relocate!” He shouted. The helicopter took off seconds before Alex, muttering in a nasal brogue and shaking his fists wildly, arrived on the grassy spot where the chopper had sat idling moments before. He shook his fists upward toward the sky, and then began to assemble what appeared to be a primitive anti aircraft launcher made out of vacuum cleaner tubes. Jarred needed to take evasive action. He radioed back to the squad: “Enemy ground to air defense is moving into position. Will reconnect with you along the south side of the building…” As he heeled the powerful craft around, he tapped a switch on the control panel to switch the music to an 80’s classic: The Final Countdown. Now, Franklin, Logan, and Wayne had the task of dragging Jeff back up the flight of stairs so that they could get onto the balcony on the southern side of Blair Hall. Because they had wasted time moving the tranquilized prisoner down and then back up, they had the misfortune of running afoul of a much bigger problem. Krin had made her way into the building to see her prize hog stolen from her outright. In a fury driven by the one primal urge, she began a frantic dash up the staircase. The three commandos were each capable of outrunning her on their own, but this was impossible while trying to budge the sedated Jeff. Thinking quickly, Logan threw a smoke bomb at the top of the stairs to try to hold the attacker, who was hurtling at them with all the wrath of a wounded bear. Franklin and Wayne had gotten halfway down the hall with Jeff when Krin reached the second floor landing. Fortunately, Krin’s former roommate Kristin jumped out of an adjacent corridor to save the rescue operation. Brandishing a pool cue from the downstairs lounge, she tried to hold Krin off. Krin grabbed the cue and snapped it in half like a matchstick, twirling the splintered pieces in her more than dexterous hands. Kristen backed away, emptying her backpack on the hall floor. She had filled it with the entire rack of pool balls. Another smoke bomb, this time from Wayne, once more blinded the attacker. Slipping on the resin balls rolling about on the floor, Krin stumbled, crawled forward, and managed to right herself just as the three commandos and Kristin had moved Jeff out onto the balcony, over which the helicopter hovered, its engine pulsing. Jarred let down a ladder and some cargo ropes which were secured around Jeff. Krin reached the balcony just as Wayne and Franklin lifted Kristin into the helicopter and Jarred began to take the craft skyward. As it roared away, Logan ripped off his Adidas jacket to reveal a homemade t-shirt that read “No Fat Chicks” in bold letters. Krin, robbed and hurt, howled with the force of a hurricane and the voice of a thousand tortured demons. She raised her hands skyward and rent the hair from her head. Her eyes spinning, she cast herself from the balcony, and landed, still alive, on the walkway below, where bewildered students rushed to her aid. In the misty clouds above, the helicopter, under Jarred’s expert control, screamed southbound, pounding out the beats of Gin and Juice from its stereo. Stave IV On board the helicopter, Logan and Franklin were swiftly making an effort to deprogram Jeff. He had come to a bit as the muscle relaxant wore off, but not before befouling himself. Logan stood behind him holding the purpled eyelids open while Franklin looked into the glazed eyes and, as charismatically as possible, began to repeat over and over, “You want to be free. You do not want to be with Krin. You are glad you are free.” Jeff, still looking a terrible sight, just as he’d been found by the investigation team a week earlier, gurgled unintelligibly. Chattering filled his ears and cold, fresh air filled his lungs. He quickly lost consciousness again. Stave V Jeff awoke in the warm comfort of a bathtub. The water was clear, and soft pink rose petals floated on its surface. He looked about, as his senses returned to him. The room was completely white. Two bright lights, covered with shiny metallic lampshades, hung on the wall. Stepping out of the tub, he noticed on the wall a perfectly white bathrobe, which he donned to cover his nakedness. His hair had been cut and his nails manicured. Lifting the shiny handle on the sliding door, he stepped out into another completely white room. Against a wall was a white table containing a vase full of white lilies. In a ceiling high cage against the other wall were a pair of completely white rabbits. Their habitat was filled with all sorts of space age exercise devices and food dispensers. A calm, unmistakably British voice broke the silence. Turning slowly, Jeff saw a young woman with dark eyes, black eye shadow, and dark hair a trippy, sixties style bob. She was clad in a short white and black checkered dress and tall white leather boots. “Hello, Jeff.” she repeated. “Where am I?” asked Jeff, utterly confused. “You are in Monsieur Freakburrito’s personal mansion and laboratory. You were brought here after you were rescued, and you are now his guest. He asked me to bring you anything you might need.” Her voice was even toned and smooth. Jeff said nothing. His memory was coming back to him, and the sterile, cold, but intriguing atmosphere in whatever this place was seemed to heighten his perception, a feeling he had not experienced for quite some time. He remembered a certain Freakburrito. After a pause, he inquired, “Is he here now?” Lifting one hand, the girl produced a remote control, and, blinking her heavily made up eyes, pressed a button with her thumb. A dais against the far wall whirled around revealing an elevated swiveling chair and four ultra modern computer monitors in see through casings. Then, with the hiss of a hydraulic mechanism, a well-concealed door slid open on the back wall and Brian LaPierre, as the groovy eccentric “Monsieur Freakburrito” strode into the room and took a seat on the swiveling chair. He was wearing a spandex bodysuit of sparkling silver, clean white tennis shoes, and a pair of ear-to-ear reflective sunglasses. Upon descending into his stool, some cooling devices puffed out a silvery fog. Some mood lights tinted the room a cool violet, and somewhere, out of a surround sound system hidden behind the walls, Jefferson Starship began to play Go Ask Alice. In an accent just as British as that of the attendant, Brian addressed Jeff. “Hello, Chase. I didn’t fancy I’d see you up this early.” What transpired from here we do not know. What we do know is that Jeff convalesced in Freakburrito’s care, and was released within a few weeks. He stepped out into the sunlight once again looking vibrant and healthy. In a pair of carpenter’s pants and a collared shirt, with only a $500 in his pockets, he put a knapsack over his shoulder and boarded a train headed for our own American West to seek his fortune as a free man. He contacted his family to make amends shortly before he left, and he promised to write back to all those who had helped him once he had made something of himself. Since his rescue from the bowels of despair, rumor has it that Jeff has been sighted all the way from the Puget Sound to the Grand Canyon, and that he has been companion to many other young travelers. Never again will he let himself be taken captive for any woman’s sake. May his story be an inspiration to us all. Amen and amen. This story is a fiction. Its characters are fictional. The resemblance of any names, locations, or events to anything in real life is unintentional and purely coincidental. ... <a href="http://www.fredrickville.com/article/1/46/The_Quickening">Visit Fredrickville.com for more!</a> Spoons Editorial Fri, 30 Dec 2005 00:00:00 -0500