Melted G.I. Joe

To be honest, I have never been a morning person. I hate the morning, it is too early and there isn't anything going on that I particularly want to be involved in. So it should come as no suprise to anyone that I was late to my 11:00 class, as I have been for every one of them this semester. I've taken up the habit of sitting in the very front row, and I'm sure my professor loves seeing me roll in a consistent 5-10 min after the start of the lecture every class period. The only thing really motivating me to go, besides the presence of a sign-in sheet, is the opportunity to eat lunch on franklin st. with Dude and Karmen. You never realize how much eating at suttons, P&P, or cosmic can be addictive until you do it for a while, then take a day or two off. Regardless, I'm not going back to the days of chick-fil-a, the smell and the greasy hands feeling still brings back bad memories of flex dollars, block plans, Hamilton 100, and the drought of 2002. Robin, a girl that sits next to me in Film Criticism, told me that watching Fight Club last week made her cry. I actually laughed in her face on that one. How the hell can Fight Club make you cry? It's a first in my book, but that is what girls do, cry for strange and unclear reasons. In other news pertaining to my favorite elective of all time, we watched Dr. Strangelove today, a classic that I recommend to all. It is the movie that got Stanley Kubric major acclaim as a director, and is over-the-top funny and alarming simultainously. The contrast of nuclear anniliation's stark reality, and a B-52 pilot reading a playboy while flying the plane creates a special kind of dark comedy. If you can make an audience laugh about the end of the world, then you are quite the director. However, the true highlight of the day came in recitation. Usually there is a jackass in every recitation, the guy (or girl) who seems to be hellbent on proving they came in knowing more than the T.A. ever will. We have a special perversion of this jackass, who one especially creative classmate titled the "melted G.I. Joe" guy. Werid as this sounds, if you ever see the kid, it fits perfectly with his misshapen head and odd hair. Put the standard issue fratty attire on, and he is a walking obsurdity. Add to the equation his pension for rambling, and you get the most despised individual of section 603. Today he asked his why question, then promptly began to answer it, because he had "already figured it out." Well, thats great, dont ask it then. He also voiced his criticism that Kubric pushed his cards too far in making Dr. Strangelove. After the remaining 99% of the class gave him confused looks, he elaborated, claiming the movie lasted far too long (it is 93 minutes, the shortest film we have watched this year) and the ending held no suspense at all; it was obvious to him from the beginning. If you ever get the chance to watch this film, you will quickly see how idiotic these statements are, and you will come to share the hatred we have for the Melted G.I. Joe guy.