...And I Feel Fine

Those of you who have taken Moyers' class are probably aware of the fact that the world is going to end on December 21, 2012 (source: the Mayan Star Calender, the Chinese Probability Calender, certain Nostradamus prophecies, and the Pat Robertson Apocalypse Hotline: bringing you up-to-the-minute details on the end of the world from the Apoca-copter). In honor of the end of everthing, I plan on holding an end of the world party Dec 19-21. If you are reading this post, and you're not Mark Foley, or Mark Obenshein, consider yourself invited. The upside of our impending doom is that the Christmas season of '12 will be a breeze since no-one will be around to buy presents for. So, whether it's Jesus, nuclear warfare, global warming, or the mighty Galactus, our space ship is set to self destruct on a five year timer, so let's get down to living while we still can. On a lighter note, Christmas (or as we call it in the school system "winter festivities of a non-ethnic, non-religious nature that we don't really enjoy anyway... honest") is just arund the corner. Everyone have an existentialy fulfilling winter break!

The average man never really thinks from end to end of his life. The mental activity of such people is only a mouthing of clichés. ~H.L. Mencken, Prejudices, 1925

Because I look good with pom-poms

Thanks to everyone who came out to the holiday concert last night. I always look forward to that magical time of year when we get all the choirs together to go up on stage and, in a wonderful and sincere display of holiday spirit, make complete idiots out of ourselves in front of about 150 parents and alumni. Speaking of Christmas, where is the love man? what happened to the "happiest season of all" and all that junk. Anyway, The front page of the DNR today heralded an article detailing a school board ruling enacted last night that intends to ban (among other materials) toy guns, matches, lighters, and explosives on school grounds. I realize this comes as a blow to all of you who routinely bring explosive material to school. I'm very sorry for your loss. In all seriousness, this is bad news for the drama department. It's going to be a lot harder to convince Dr. Ford to let Gaston carry a blunderbuss on stage with this new bit of legislation. Oh well, we can always just give our uber-hunter a bow and arrow, or (wicked idea) a boomerang.
I recently received a comment advising me to watch it with the french horn jokes, so I'd like to take this opportunity to soundly bash a few other instruments as well:

How do you get two piccolos to play in unison?
Shoot one.

Why is a bassoon better than an oboe?
The bassoon burns longer.

What is the definition of a half step?
Two oboes playing on unison.

What do you call a clarinetist with half a brain?
Gifted.

What's the difference between a saxophone and a lawn mower?
The grip's a little different.

What's the difference between a trumpet player and a government bond?
Government bonds eventually mature and earn money.

What is a gentleman?
Somebody who knows how to play the trombone, but doesn't.

What do you get when you cross a French Horn player and a goalpost?
A goalpost that can't march.
(oops, that one just slipped in)

Why are orchestra intermissions limited to 20 minutes?
So you don't have to retrain the drummers.

What did the drummer get on his IQ test?
Drool.

How do you get a drummer to play an accelerando?
Ask him to play in 4/4 at a steady 120 bpm.

Did you hear about the time the bass player locked his keys in the car?
It took two hours to get the drummer out.

And now for the important instruments:

What did the guitarist do when his teacher told him to turn his amplifier on?
He caressed it softly and told it that he loved it.

How do you get a guitar player to play softer?
Give him some sheet music.

And finally:

Minimum safe distances between street musicians and the public:

Violinist: 25 feet
Bad Violinist: 50 feet
Tone Deaf Guitar Player who knows 3 chords: 75 feet
15 year-old Electric Guitar Player with Nirvana fixation: 100 feet
Accordionist: About 6 miles

I'm running out of jokes. So, until next time: Shalom Y'all

That's pronounced "SEE-ah-HUM-ba"

Okay, so, Karl has corrected the spelling on his URL, it's now quaintquintessentialnonsense.blogspot.com.

And speaking of Communists:
A capitalist, a socialist, and a communist all agree to meet at a cafe. The capitalist and the communist arrive at 4:30, but the socialist is fifteen minutes late.
"sorry I'm late" says the socialist when he finally arrives, "I was standing in the queue for sausages."
"What's a queue?" asks the capitalist.
"What are sausages?" asks the communist.

How 'bout that ice storm huh? You'd think the one time we get a spot of winter weather we could at least get a school delay out of it. Though, knowing our superintendent, we'll probably get tomorrow off in anticipation of the winter weather forecast for last weekend.

If you're still reading by now you should get as many people as you can together and go to the Christmas Choir Concert tomorrow (unless you have a life, in which case I understand that you might want to do something "fun" with your time). Speaking of choir, explain something to me: What phenomenon compells high school choral directors the world over to sap the life out of every single vocal selection by directing at a tempo that hovers somewhere between funeral dirge and televsion retrospective.

Q:What's the range on a french horn?
A:About thirty feet if you have a good arm.

This post is much too long already, so I'll leave you with this:
If a guy says something, and there's not a woman around to hear him, is he still wrong?

Holy Crap! People are reading my blog!

Yes, thank you to those four or five of my intrepid peers who actually read my blog. I feel so loved, but you know who's not getting any lovin' at all? Kommunists-are-bad-Karl! go read his blog at quaintquintessesentialnonsense.blogspot.com. In other news: Baseball is on the juice (duh) Jodie Foster is out of the closet (not so duh) and the NewsStreak can't get its facts straight (duh again). Here's a good question: is waterboarding more or less fun than wake boarding (water skiing with a snowboard)?

Rhythm is Overrated

So... who's psyched for battle of the bands. I sincerely hope that some wussy string quartet shows up expecting to entertain a screaming crowd of angst ridden teenagers with some choice selections from Handel. Of course, this is very unlikely to happen, not only because classical music is critically underrated in our post-modern society, but also because cello players are some tough hombres (shout out to the Roth boys... who probably wouldn't read my blog anyway... and for good reason). A classical group would bring an element of class to the show though. class, while not neccessarily being a requirement, would be a welcome change, seeing as how the majority of high school bands are comprised of slight variations of four basic archetypes: 1) a guitar player with a rudementry grasp of power chords and a Nirvana fixation 2) a drummer who bought his kit at a garage sale and can, on a good day, keep the beat for maybe ten or twelve seconds 3) a bass player, to translate for the drummer, and 4) a singer with a god complex who believes that if he can just stretch his vocal chords a little further he might be able to open our collective conciousness and lead mankind into an enlightened era of peace and harmony... or maybe his head will explode. anyway, I look forward to seeing some if not all of my dedicated blog readers (by which I mean Karl) at the show in april or may or whenever. until next time, stay classy homes. Peace

We Are The Champions, My Friends

On Tuesday, December fourth, at about 7:30 pm Working won the state one act competition! Thats right, we did better than our football team. We should get a parade. i'm a little sad to see the show put to rest, but we had a great run (try best freakin' one act in Virginia) and we start musical rehearsals TODAY. So, thats all for now, if you see Dr. Ford any time soon, tell him he owes me a parade.

MUSICAL!!!!!!!!!!

A big woot to all those who got into the musical. Get ready for a kickin' show, so put down the homework and warm up your voice cause it is officially on!!!! Shout out to Tim and sandy for making the cast! peace yo.

What do you call a drummer up to his neck in concrete? Not enough concrete.

A scientist on an expedition disembarks from his plane at the final outpost of civilization in the deepest Amazon rain forest. he immediately notices the ceaseless thrumming of native drums. As his party ventures further into the bush, the drums never stop, day or night, for weeks.
Eventually the scientist asks one of the natives about this, and the native's only reply is "Drums never stop. Very BAD if drums stop."
The scientist asks "Why? What happens when the drums stop?"
"Bass Solo."

Callbacks, The Theatrical Equivalent of the Hollaback

Congrats to those who made callbacks. If you tried out but didn't make callbacks then you have my sympathy.
Have you ever noticed that when politicians are debating each other they hardly ever use heir opponents' name? Are they afraid that personifying their competitor will give him/her an edge? Do they simply want to seem impartial toward their opponents and let their ad campaign name the names? Who really cares enough to find out?
Anyway, best of luck to my fellow Actors and Acteurs in the final auditions. Ciao (Chow).

Good Morning Vietnam!

Welcme one and all to my blog. For all of you prospective actors and singers auditioning for the muscal this week, I wish you the best of luck. I will post more soon as the drama of callbacks and so forth plays out.