<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' gd:etag='W/&quot;AkMCSHwycCp7ImA9Wx9TEEw.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178</id><updated>2010-11-17T10:27:49.298-08:00</updated><title>Things That Never Happened</title><subtitle type='html'>You heard nothing, you saw nothing...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default?redirect=false&amp;v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>111</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;D0cMRn06cSp7ImA9Wx5aGUw.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-3611106212257949739</id><published>2010-11-16T05:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T05:44:47.319-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2010-11-16T05:44:47.319-08:00</app:edited><title>Greetings from the Holy Land!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;So it would seem blogging is back. I mean, my sisters blogging again, I'm blogging again…who else do you need? Here I'd thought this was kind of a fad which got old around mid-2009, and yet every once and again I decide to post my deepest thoughts on the internet where just about anyone and everyone can read it. I usually don't do this anymore unless I'm really having a hard time making a decision, as I suppose you could tell by looking at some of my previous posts, half of which seem to be about laptops.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;How have things been going here the last three months? Well if you asked me that, I'd probably tell you something like "pretty good" since there's way too much information involved in the answer to that question to put into words. So it's a good thing you didn't ask me, or you'd have just been wasting your time. Luckily, I've asked the question for you, and so I've decided to answer it in the only way I can think of- by writing it all out. Of course, when I come back to Milwaukee and everyone in shul or wherever asks me how Israel was, I'll have to give them the short answer, which usually leaves people pretty unsatisfied and kind of confused.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Anyway, it's November now and I've been on the three-seder schedule for about three months now. And I must say it has started to get to me. I learn close to nine hours a day, and the rest of the time there doesn't seem to be much else to do. Everyone else here seems pretty bored. It's a good thing nobody listened to the no-laptops rule, because that seems to be the only thing most people do around here. We've even set up our own computer to computer network and played games against each other.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Now I know what you're thinking right now- "You're in Israel! How could you be spending your free time playing computer games with your friends?" It's a fair question, but I hope I'll have answered it by the end of this post. Of course the odds of me finishing this post seem to be diminishing- I've been interrupted twice already and I have another half an hour.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Here's the truth- I don't really know what else to do with myself. Sure, in the first few weeks we all went to town and checked out ben yehuda and the old city and the kotel and all that, and it was cool for awhile. But now what? I can't exactly go touring Israel between 11:00pm and 12:30. I still do go down to town quite frequently- usually for felafel, a food which I can only eat in Israel for reasons I have yet to discover. But besides for getting food (and the food is good- many of you know it is the center of my universe) I don't see much reason to spend the money on the bus to go downtown. Many people go every night, and that's because they came here to party. I did not, and I'm kind of surprised that people like that actually wind up here.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;They've been a major damper on the experience, these party-people. Around half my yeshiva of 30 kids was made up of party-people when I first got here. Some have left, but a nice chunk of it is still, well, white trash. I had expected maybe two or three people to be like this, but when it's closer to six or seven it kind of ruins things. The front of the yeshiva always smells like cigarette smoke (and so does my room occasionally), people steal things from the fridge, the kitchen has been broken into a couple times already, etc. I didn't fly thousands of miles away from home when I was perfectly comfortable in New York to spend a year with people like this.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;There are of course some really great guys here, and I don't mean to exclude them. There are some of my closest friends from high school, without whom I probably wouldn't be here to begin with, and there's a number of other guys I've met also (pretty much everyone who isn't british, actually)&amp;nbsp; who are just fantastic people, and I'm glad I've had the opportunity to meet them. Without these people, I'm sure I'd be utterly miserable here. I mean, I've never been a huge fan of learning gemara, as I'm sure many of you know. I'm not bad at it, and I've been told by many knowledgable people that I actually have a flair for it, but that doesn't mean I enjoy it. But that's part of why I'm here. I thought I'd get the chance to learn more of the "whys" of my religion, rather than the "whats" which I've focused on my whole life already.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I discovered last year that the "whats" don't hold up without the "whys", and I wish I'd discovered that sooner. I was left on my own last year, with zero supervision, and what I discovered was that I was left with zero motivation. My davening was a joke last year, as was my learning, and I'm not proud of that. I had hoped that coming here would give me a different perspective on things, and would give me the motivation I need to come to davening without a minyan point system, and be able to learn without getting a grade.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;For the most part, I seem to have been mistaken.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;There is one part of my day where, about once a week, I can ask one of my rabbeim some of the questions I have about, well yiddishkeit. And that's not nothing. I've learned a great deal from those sessions since August. But I get the feeling that I'm wasting 90% of my time here by just piling on more and more gemara. My rosh yeshiva is convinced that if I stay for an additional six months, I will continue to grow in my learning. That's fantastic, but I'm not really interested in it, and certainly not in these conditions. In fact those words kind of make me nauseous at this point. I don't need to be better at reading a gemara- I need to know why I'm reading it in the first place! I mean really, I've spent the last ten years learning HOW to read a gemara, but I can't keep myself dedicated to it if I don't understand the reason behind it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;That's something I couldn't get at YU, so I thought I'd come here and hear their take on it. So far, I haven't heard anything new, and my belief is that that's not likely to change. I have learned about quite a few other things I wasn't sure about, and in that respect coming here was a great chizuk, But I really was much happier in the states, and I'd still like to get back there as soon as I can.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I realize that sounds like a mistake to a lot of people. Lots of people view Israel in this bold, perfect light. Like it's heaven or something. "How could you want to leave Israel? Aren't you enjoying yourself? What do you have in America that can't wait another six months?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;That's not the question. The question is, what do I have here that I need to stay another six months?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The best argument I can think of is the fact that my friends are here, my brother is here, my relatives are here, and my father's friends are here (and they've all been really great!). This more than anything else is what make the decision to leave early tough. I'm all too happy to leave the english lads and their cigarettes, as well as the subpar living conditions (toilet paper!), but when I think about leaving these amazing people, some of whom I've known my whole life, I hesitate. I had no close friends at YU, and that is the one aspect of it I'm not looking forward to. But I didn't really try last year, did I? I had my own dorm room, I spent more time at my sisters apartment playing xbox than anything else- who's surprised? I feel if I make more of an effort when I come back in January, the social scene in New York will look much better for me. And I can't make the decision to stay just to be with these people. I can't be with them forever.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;As for the land itself, people told me before I came about the "connection" you get with Israel by going, and how it couldn't be described, you just had to go see for yourself. Well, it still can't be described in my mind, because I still have no idea what those people were talking about. You can say three months isn't enough time to let a bond like that grow, so I guess maybe I just don't have the patience for it. Or maybe I'll never get it. Regardless, it's not something that's keeping me here. I don't feel any kind of connection to this place- I'm far more connected to Milwaukee, the place where I actually grew up. I don't feel at home here. Maybe I haven't been to the right places, but I just feel like the Jews that live here are just a different kind of people. It's a world I can't really relate to, where in some places it's ordained by halacha that you throw stones at cars, or pour bleach on seminary girls. If anything, going to charaidi places like netanya and mean shearim have shaken my trust in Judaism.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;We go to tishes in Netanya, with thousands of chassidim sitting around a table watching their rebbe eat, and the whole time people ask me "isn't this amazing? aren't you inspired?" But it just makes me feel more distant to my religion. I don't believe the same thing these people do. They are their own breed of Judaism. They don't inspire me, and I don't connect with them at all.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;That's four interruptions. I seem to be annoying some people, so I guess I'll end this off here. I think I've covered everything, right? I've completely lost my train of thought anyways. Overall, of course I'm glad I came here, and I think I've grown a great deal from the experience in many ways, but I am really looking forward to coming back. And the rosh can call my father if he wants to (on sunday, look out) but I do kind of wish, at least for once, someone would respect my decision. It hasn't been an easy one to make, but I've made it already. Please stop trying to change my mind, because it might work. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-3611106212257949739?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/3611106212257949739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=3611106212257949739' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/3611106212257949739?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/3611106212257949739?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2010/11/greetings-from-holy-land.html' title='Greetings from the Holy Land!'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DUUBQXc_fip7ImA9WxFUGEo.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-7961017268839036994</id><published>2010-06-29T22:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T22:54:10.946-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2010-06-29T22:54:10.946-07:00</app:edited><title>Yup, it's still summer</title><content type='html'>Jeez, I could use a job.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Like a real one, the kind that pays money. I've applied to literally dozens of places this summer, with absolutely no result. No one has even thought to call me in for an interview. About a third of the jobs I applied to at least had the courtesy to tell me they were no longer interested in me, but the other two thirds just ignored me. Pretty annoying. Why did I spend all that time with Perel writing a resume? Oh well, I'm sure it'll come in handy eventually.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I may get a job working at my old high school this summer, but so far that seems to be a long shot. I've heard nothing from anyone official yet, but rumors have reached me that they need more people. "Trying's all we've got!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The IDEAL thing which I would die to do this summer is work on the Transformers 3 movie which will be filming here the week of July 12th. But I have absolutely no idea how to even get in touch with the people who are looking for local students to be PA's, and by now I think it's probably too late anyways. The chances of me getting Shia Labeouf coffee are pretty slim at this point. But getting a job like that- just unbelievable. Can you imagine what that would look like on a resume?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As for what I &lt;b&gt;am&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;doing around here, well not a whole lot. I have some friends who are in town for the next week or so, and we're going to hang out as much as we can before they all go to their respective sleep away camps in New York or whatever. Perel's coming back tomorrow night, and she'll be here for a little while, so that'll be fun. Oh, and as for this whole Dr. Apikores video- it has, as I feared, come to a bit of a stall. We still have some shooting (and believe it or not, some writing) to do before I can finish it up, but hopefully I'll get that done within the next few days. I did just discover that the Askotzky's have a giant white screen on their second floor I can use as a background- so I'm going to see if that's possible. Also, now Perel can be in the movie if she so desires. So it may be a little while longer, but it will b grand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-7961017268839036994?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/7961017268839036994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=7961017268839036994' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/7961017268839036994?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/7961017268839036994?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2010/06/yup-its-still-summer.html' title='Yup, it&apos;s still summer'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;CUQCRno-eip7ImA9WxFUFE4.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-2788246616821621530</id><published>2010-06-24T19:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T19:36:07.452-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2010-06-24T19:36:07.452-07:00</app:edited><title>Close encounters of the Peanut kind</title><content type='html'>And here you have it, my obligatory blog of the month. The truth is, I think of stuff I should really write down all the time, but I guess there's just so much that none of it ends up on paper, er screen. And some of the stuff I'd really like to get into would take so long to write, and I don't have the patience for that kind of thing.&lt;br /&gt;
As you may have heard, I am working on a new Doctor Apikores video, and it is so far the coolest video I've ever made. It may be another week or two before it hits youtube, but rest assured it will be worth the wait.&lt;br /&gt;
So I guess while I'm here I might as well share with you my close encounter from earlier today. I was making lunch, which is a task which seems to be becoming more pathetic by the day. Today I was baking a piece of fish in the toaster oven, and I decided to eat something in the meantime, since it was going to take twenty minutes to bake. An ice cream sandwich in the freezer caught my eye. It was on the top shelf, and I didn't see what the flavor was, but it was in this fancy blue bunny packaging, so I was like what the heck- probably rocky road or something. Because they make that in ice cream sandwiches.&lt;br /&gt;
Anyway, I unwrapped it, and instantly recognized it as chocolate. Not my favorite, but good enough. I took a bite into this ice cream sandwich, and this is what I thought, in this order:&lt;br /&gt;
1) THAT'S not chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;
2) That's NOT chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;
3) That's not CHOCOLATE.&lt;br /&gt;
4) That's fricken peanut butter!&lt;br /&gt;
5) Who puts peanut butter in an ice cream sandwich&amp;gt;&lt;br /&gt;
6) OMG&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I spit it out as best I could, and rinsed my mouth out about 30 times. I don't think I actually swallowed any, but my mouth was still very tingly, so I went looking for the Benedryl. This drug proved elusive, despite the fact that our kitchen is completely stuffed with any kind of pill you can imagine. I finally found it, took two pills, and was pretty much out of commission for the rest of today. Annoying, but it could have been much worse, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;
I had come to wonder in recent months whether or not I was still actually allergic to the stuff, since I haven't had a reaction in many years. Well, question answered, I suppose.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-2788246616821621530?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/2788246616821621530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=2788246616821621530' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/2788246616821621530?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/2788246616821621530?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2010/06/close-encounters-of-peanut-kind.html' title='Close encounters of the Peanut kind'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;CEAGSX84cCp7ImA9WxFXGU8.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-9220321616473602135</id><published>2010-05-26T18:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T18:12:08.138-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2010-05-26T18:12:08.138-07:00</app:edited><title>Going through the book catalog with the crank-up radio blasting</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2lvWXiHEjvM/S_3EUIPKPtI/AAAAAAAAAFU/gtBEm65Sq9A/s1600/Photo0482.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2lvWXiHEjvM/S_3EUIPKPtI/AAAAAAAAAFU/gtBEm65Sq9A/s400/Photo0482.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;"Forty-three percent off? But how much is it!!!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm recording these quotes as they happen:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"I think this is the side where only girls can buy stuff, and this is the side where only boys can buy stuff. Look, 'Shark Adventure.'"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"'Easy to read'? I need some of those. I have hard to read books."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Next page. These are my level I think. Nancy Drew?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Come on! Star Wars, the Clone Wars? It can't be both! It can only be one!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"'Scratch and Win! Improve your math skills with these fun games!'"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Iguana: What's the party up here?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(Cranks up radio) "This is the party!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Iguana: You and that thing are crazy. (leaves)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Is 7 dollars a lot of money?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Do you like history? Do you want 100 historical photos? Does Iguana? Does Fudge? Does anyone in our family?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"I already &lt;b&gt;have&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;a remote control car. I mean, Curby can't race upside down, but still..."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Create your own slime? Ewww."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Body Science! I love body science! Glow in the dark brain slime kit!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"I wish I could draw sharks like that."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"How much can a bare bear bear?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"A mink, a fink, a skating rink. Some of those aren't even words."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-9220321616473602135?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/9220321616473602135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=9220321616473602135' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/9220321616473602135?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/9220321616473602135?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2010/05/going-through-book-catalog-with-crank.html' title='Going through the book catalog with the crank-up radio blasting'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_2lvWXiHEjvM/S_3EUIPKPtI/AAAAAAAAAFU/gtBEm65Sq9A/s72-c/Photo0482.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;A0cBQn48fyp7ImA9WxFRGEk.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-6764834981613350691</id><published>2010-05-02T18:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T18:10:53.077-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2010-05-02T18:10:53.077-07:00</app:edited><title>Yeah, yeah...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://utterinsanity.files.wordpress.com/2008/10/drwho.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="282" src="http://utterinsanity.files.wordpress.com/2008/10/drwho.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Eventually, I'll put something up. I'm officially too busy with finals and whatnot to blog right now. But for those of you wondering, the mice are still a problem, and I'm pretty annoyed at their persistence. They'll get theirs though, don't worry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-6764834981613350691?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/6764834981613350691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=6764834981613350691' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/6764834981613350691?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/6764834981613350691?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2010/05/yeah-yeah.html' title='Yeah, yeah...'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;AkAMSXY5fCp7ImA9WxFSFkw.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-4209868008665533441</id><published>2010-04-18T12:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-18T12:26:28.824-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2010-04-18T12:26:28.824-07:00</app:edited><title>Reporting Live from the Muss lounge</title><content type='html'>Why am I two floors below my room with my laptop? Well, let me see if I can sum up what's been going on in my room the last 48 hours or so...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
FRIDAY NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;
Getting ready to go to sleep, I see something scuttle underneath my doorway. I figure it's at worst a roach, but since the light's off, I can't see anything. When an extended search of the area reveals nothing, I convince myself it was a trick of the light and go to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SATURDAY NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;
Returning to my room after havdala, I open up my laptop and check my email. I then begin watching a youtube video.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
TEN MINUTES LATER - FIRST SIGHTING&lt;br /&gt;
Something quickly moves across my desk behind the laptop.&lt;br /&gt;
First thought- What the heck was that?&lt;br /&gt;
Second thought- I think there's a mouse behind my desk.&lt;br /&gt;
Third thought- OMG there's a mouse in my room!!!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I move back from the desk and quickly put on my packers slippers. There's a brief moment where I see nothing- I then see the mouse very quickly move from behind the desk under the doorway. I carefully peer out the hallway, and see nothing. I suddenly realize that this is the thing I saw last night. Commence jibblies. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I head down to the guard on the first floor and let him know of the situation. He writes my room number down on a piece of paper, and calls someone, telling them I've seen mice in my room. After a ten second conversation, he hangs up the phone and tells me "housekeeping" will put down "traps" in my room. When I ask him if it'll be done tonight, he says "I don't know about that." Okay, worse things have happened. So I sleep with the mice for one night. Sudden realization that housekeeping does not come on Sundays causes more jibblies. &lt;br /&gt;
However, I don't see the rodent for the rest of the night. Believing it to have left my room, I block the bottom of the doorway with luggage, and watch dr who until 2:30, at which point I am comfortable enough to go to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SUNDAY MORNING&lt;br /&gt;
No sign of the vermin, but still on edge. I spend most of the day at my sister's apartment, returning at around 3:00. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SUNDAY 3:00- SECOND SIGHTING&lt;br /&gt;
I open the doorway to be greeted by the mouse. As if to welcome me back to our humble abode, it quickly scuttles from behind the desk under the doorway of a closet near the door. Not having checked that closet the previous night, I suspect that the mouse has and had been living there, although there's no food in there. Just a TV box. I move the luggage in front of the closet, take my laptop, and leave the room. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now I'm going to head back up there, grab my wallet, and head over to rite aid to find some way of killing this thing. I have less than no faith in "housekeeping" coming tomorrow and laying traps. We will fight these rodents on the seas, we will fight them on the beaches. We will defend our dorm room, whatever the cost may be. We shall never surrender.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-4209868008665533441?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/4209868008665533441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=4209868008665533441' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/4209868008665533441?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/4209868008665533441?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2010/04/reporting-live-from-muss-lounge.html' title='Reporting Live from the Muss lounge'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;CUUFQ38-cSp7ImA9WxFSEU8.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-5708078510905336442</id><published>2010-04-12T18:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T18:46:52.159-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2010-04-12T18:46:52.159-07:00</app:edited><title>Hit the ground running...into a volcano</title><content type='html'>Coming back from these long vacations, I always kind of feel like a plane landing. After spending so much free time up in the air, relaxing, the hard thump of the wheels hitting the ground wakes me up and reminds me of where I am and where I'm going. The plane has touched the ground, but is still going nearly as fast as it was in the air. Over time it slows down, until finally it reaches the gate, and I suppose my vacation metaphorically dies at that point.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
 &lt;br /&gt;
What was I talking about? Oh yeah, Pesach. Well, this Pesach was without a doubt the best Pesach I've ever had in my life. I've become more aware in recent months that you appreciate something more and more the less you have it. Now I have not exactly been separated from my family for a tear-jerking amount of time (as my mom put it, my limit so far has been six weeks), but by my standards, it feels like years. So when I finally come home, and all of my brothers and sisters are there, it's just such an amazing time for me. People say there's nothing to do in Milwaukee- but I don't really need anything. As long as those guys are around, I'm having a good time. My brother happens to be going away to the Israeli army soon, and I probably won't get another good look at him for the next fourteen months, so we spent plenty of quality time together (although most of it was in shul, I guess). One regret I have from this break is that I spent so much of it working. Well okay I guess that's not true, I spent maybe three or four mornings doing my superhero work downtown as a mashgiach. I'm not totally sure why I took up the requests- I guess it's because usually they don't ask me, and this time apparantly they really needed me, and I have a hard time turning down money. There were one or two days where I turned them down, and I'm really glad I did, because that meant more time I got to spend with my family. &lt;br /&gt;
But now I come back to New York and am once again faced with the realization that things like this don't last forever. Even when I do come back for summer break, it won't be the same as it was over this vacation, since my sister will still be working in New York, and my brother will still be in the army in Israel. Sometimes I just can't believe I'm thinking about going to Israel next year. I mean, it's true a lot of my friends will be there, but I have a rough enough time dealing with going to New York, I can't imagine what things would be like for me if I were to leave for six months at a time. I tell myself having friends there will make things better, but that's far from a guarantee. And I guess I need to go to Queens this weekend to check Landers out. &lt;br /&gt;
 I guess in theory I shouldn't have time to be thinking about this (or writing it) since I have like two tests and a paper due in the same week I come back. But I really just can't bring myself to study economics right now. Maybe in ten minutes. &lt;br /&gt;
The truth is I don't have very much school left. I go home in another six and a half weeks, and I only have classes for about half of that. Finals shouldn't be too terrible, but I need to actually get back on top of things. It could just be because I came back with a lot of things I had to do outside of school, which hopefully by the end of today are all taken care of. I had to mail back the car keys I accidentally left in my pocket, wheel two gigantic, 50 pound boxes over to my sister's apartment, close a checking account (haven't done that yet), cash a check...I think there are more. &lt;br /&gt;
One problem is that it's hard for me to focus on my schoolwork, and think about if I want to stay here for next year at the same time. If I wait on that decision until the schoolwork is over, it'll likely be too late (dorm registrations are due April 21st...so I guess I need to know by then). &lt;br /&gt;
It's just that I've come back from the most amazing vacation ever, and I find myself back in the middle of all of these things. It's so hard for me to re-orient myself. I didn't know what I was going to do with all this stuff three weeks ago, and I haven't made much progress since. I guess I've had kind of a hard landing, not unlike the entire Polish government. Except I think I'm really just half off the runway, not half a mile away from it. If I can just steer myself in the right direction, I shouldn't have much of a problem dealing with these last six weeks. Then I can start looking for a summer job two months too late. Ugh. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Oop, it's been at least ten minutes. I should really study some economics now. With any luck, I'll at least feel like I did well tomorrow, and I can focus on my other tests. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Aaah, I've heard it both ways...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-5708078510905336442?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/5708078510905336442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=5708078510905336442' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/5708078510905336442?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/5708078510905336442?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2010/04/hit-ground-runninginto-volcano.html' title='Hit the ground running...into a volcano'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;CkUDSXk-fCp7ImA9WxBaEkw.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-2172403387501411328</id><published>2010-03-21T15:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T15:24:38.754-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2010-03-21T15:24:38.754-07:00</app:edited><title>I need a break from overdoing!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-2172403387501411328?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/2172403387501411328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=2172403387501411328' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/2172403387501411328?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/2172403387501411328?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-need-break-from-overdoing.html' title='I need a break from overdoing!!!'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;CEIHSHY8fCp7ImA9WxBaEk8.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-7419639657959389</id><published>2010-03-17T08:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T18:48:59.874-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2010-03-21T18:48:59.874-07:00</app:edited><title>Midterms!!!</title><content type='html'>Sorry, haven't had time to type anything in a while, I've been super busy juggling midterms, the play (which I'm doing tech again for this semester), economics homework, and the occasional modern warfare 2. But here's a hilarious video a friend of mine sent me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://kontraband.com/videos/21846/The-Tetris-God"&gt;The Tetris God&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;embed allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" flashvars="file=http://208.116.9.205/10/content/21846/450.flv&amp;amp;height=380&amp;amp;width=480&amp;amp;displayheight=360&amp;amp;displaywidth=480&amp;amp;frontcolor=0xffffff&amp;amp;backcolor=0x000000&amp;amp;lightcolor=0xffffff&amp;amp;plugins=gapro-1,/show/plugins/kb/kbsocial_1.swf&amp;amp;gapro.accountid=UA-3505072-1&amp;amp;gapro.trackpercentage=true&amp;amp;gapro.tracktime=true&amp;amp;gapro.trackcompletes=true&amp;amp;gapro.trackdetails=true&amp;amp;gapro.trackerror=true&amp;amp;shuffle=false&amp;amp;overstretch=false&amp;amp;autostart=false&amp;amp;repeat=list&amp;amp;javascriptid=kbvideo&amp;amp;enablejs=true&amp;amp;customKb=true&amp;amp;kb_engagement_url=http://kontraband.com/videos/21846/The-Tetris-God&amp;amp;kb_engagement_title=The Tetris God&amp;amp;kb_contentid=21846" height="380" id="kbvideo" name="kbvideo" quality="high" src="http://www.kontraband.com/show/4.5.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" usefullscreen="true" width="480"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-7419639657959389?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/7419639657959389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=7419639657959389' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/7419639657959389?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/7419639657959389?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2010/03/midterms.html' title='Midterms!!!'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;D0MNSHs8fSp7ImA9WxBVE0U.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-2805005794921401023</id><published>2010-02-16T21:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T21:44:59.575-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2010-02-16T21:44:59.575-08:00</app:edited><title>The wrong impression?</title><content type='html'>I had two strange things happen to me today which made me feel like I'd flashed back to the old WHEATS days. Oh, that's what my chavrusa calls my old school. Bear with me.&lt;br /&gt;
So I came back from one of my classes today to find that my door was wide open and my light was on. I thought that was pretty weird. I mean, I guess I can be pretty absent minded sometimes, but come on. That's just weird. But nothing was missing, I'd had my laptop with me, so I figured I'd just left it like that by accident, in a rush to get to class. Although my initial thought was like, what's going on? Are they searching my room?&lt;br /&gt;
I later found a security guard opening random rooms on my floor, and I guess he thought I was looking at him weird or something, so as I was opening my room up, he told me that they'd opened my room up earlier because they thought there was a leak inside, but it turned out it was in the room next door. I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse.&lt;br /&gt;
But anyways, later on I was trying to get back into my building, and found, as I often do later at night, that the door was locked. So I asked the guard in the booth if he could open the door. I was kind of out of breath as we had this little conversation, as I had just run from my sister's apartment to get my backpack from my room so I could get to a test I was probably already late for. This is how this conversation went:&lt;br /&gt;
ME: Can you open this door up please?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
GUARD: How can I help you?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
ME:...can you open this door up?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
GUARD: (faint smile) No, the door is closed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
ME: Yeah, I know. Can you open it?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
GUARD: No, no, it's locked.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
ME: I know, that's why I can't get in. Can you open the door?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
GUARD: It's closed right now.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
ME: (suddenly understanding) Oh...wait what? This is the DORM building?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
GUARD: Yes, the dorm is closed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
ME:...ok!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I basically just had to run around to the main entrance and go all the way around the building. Of course, that entrance was wide open, and once I got to my floor I could find no reason why the place would be closed off. This whole thing basically cost me ten minutes of an extremely long test, but thankfully I still finished with plenty of time to spare. Although I have to admit that when I first realized that this guard was telling me the dorm was closed, my immediate reaction was like, "Why? Are they searching the dorms?"&lt;br /&gt;
Now I wish I could say that I've never actually had my room searched before, but unfortunately as of last year I can no longer claim that, which was when four rabbeim kicked me out of my own room and searched through my closet.&lt;br /&gt;
For those of you who may be surprised at my hesitation to go back to a full-time learning environment, this may shed some light on my point of view. This was actually something I thought about a few weeks ago, when I was reading the Yated at my uncle's house, and I read an article about whether or not it's right for a rebbe to hit his students. This caused me to drift back and remember fondly my experiences with, caring, sincere, patient rabbeim in the fourth, fifth, sixth, and eight grades. (end sarcasm)&lt;br /&gt;
I believe each one of these rabbeim brought me to tears on multiple occasions. And you know, it wasn't fun. And now I'm not saying I didn't deserve it all the time, but many times, even as I look back on it now, I did not approve of their methods. A few of them apologized to me afterwards, and I hold for them a bit of respect for doing that. But nonetheless, there's no doubt in my mind that these people are the reasons why I am so quiet today. It seems that I learned early on when to keep my mouth shut. And it's true, I remember many gemara classes where I would sit in my desk, trying very hard to not break down, and concentrating on how I was not going to say anything in this class ever again. I should just keep my mouth shut next time. Well, it seems I've learned.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;This was how I operated all throughout high school; I answered my questions myself, and never raised my hand unless there was really something I didn't know. Maybe that's a good thing? Is it a virtue not to say anything if you have nothing to say? It sure doesn't seem like it. Everywhere I go, everything I do, people ask me why I don't say anything? Am I afraid I'm going to be shot down and humiliated if I speak my mind? Or is this just the way I am now, with this mentality of being very careful with what I say, to the point where I don't even realize I have something to say unless it's something important?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Woah, I'm sorry, this was supposed to be a funny blog. But I've been thinking about this for a little while, and I guess I wanted to get it out there. It actually surprises me now that I never spoke with any of my high school rabbeim about this. Maybe I never figured it out until now. But I can tell you that with all of Dr. Stone's bellowing and stomping, he couldn't hold a candle to how much damage these people have done to me. Like I said before, maybe it's for the better. Maybe it's good that I know how to balance my words carefully. Goodness knows it got me through algebra, geometry, and chemistry in one piece. But take it from me- these rabbeim did not need to hit me. They did their job just fine with their words.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-2805005794921401023?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/2805005794921401023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=2805005794921401023' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/2805005794921401023?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/2805005794921401023?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2010/02/wrong-impression.html' title='The wrong impression?'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;Ak8AQHk4cSp7ImA9WxBVEkU.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-9121986138943321979</id><published>2010-02-15T18:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T18:54:01.739-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2010-02-15T18:54:01.739-08:00</app:edited><title>Look!</title><content type='html'>so yeah I'm really too lazy to write anything right now, but I realize I haven't posted anything in a while, so here's a video for you.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/gxbdVY-9HuU&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gxbdVY-9HuU&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-9121986138943321979?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/9121986138943321979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=9121986138943321979' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/9121986138943321979?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/9121986138943321979?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2010/02/look.html' title='Look!'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DEQDRXw_fCp7ImA9WxBWFk0.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-2593319759396179200</id><published>2010-02-07T09:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T21:19:34.244-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2010-02-07T21:19:34.244-08:00</app:edited><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='modern warfare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jewish'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='call of duty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='modern warfare 2'/><title>The next big thing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2lvWXiHEjvM/S2743tbpWJI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Djo6hcRYzUw/s1600-h/modernortho.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2lvWXiHEjvM/S2743tbpWJI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Djo6hcRYzUw/s320/modernortho.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I tried to upload this to facebook, but they didn't seem to be interested in doing that. It's been uploading for the last half an hour, with nothing to show for it, sooooo....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I guess I'll just put it here and make the link my status. Good job facebook. Good job.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-2593319759396179200?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/2593319759396179200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=2593319759396179200' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/2593319759396179200?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/2593319759396179200?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2010/02/next-big-thing.html' title='The next big thing'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2lvWXiHEjvM/S2743tbpWJI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Djo6hcRYzUw/s72-c/modernortho.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;D0YDRn44cSp7ImA9WxBWEUs.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-855864810780338413</id><published>2010-02-02T17:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T18:46:17.039-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2010-02-02T18:46:17.039-08:00</app:edited><title>look familiar?</title><content type='html'>saw this while in gamestop with fudge buying tomb raider- because modern warfare 2 isn't "fun to watch."&lt;br /&gt;
to iguana- does this not make you think "roger wilco?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2lvWXiHEjvM/S2jTKfkbhVI/AAAAAAAAAE8/86uM0lffWRo/s1600-h/Photo0415.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2lvWXiHEjvM/S2jTKfkbhVI/AAAAAAAAAE8/86uM0lffWRo/s320/Photo0415.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2lvWXiHEjvM/S2jjXRT8-yI/AAAAAAAAAFE/bWwHBvwnedw/s1600-h/roger.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_2lvWXiHEjvM/S2jjXRT8-yI/AAAAAAAAAFE/bWwHBvwnedw/s320/roger.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-855864810780338413?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/855864810780338413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=855864810780338413' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/855864810780338413?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/855864810780338413?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2010/02/look-familiar.html' title='look familiar?'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_2lvWXiHEjvM/S2jTKfkbhVI/AAAAAAAAAE8/86uM0lffWRo/s72-c/Photo0415.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DEYAQHo_eip7ImA9WxBXF04.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-5352616991413970868</id><published>2010-01-28T19:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T19:35:41.442-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2010-01-28T19:35:41.442-08:00</app:edited><title>"Vlog" sounds like some kind of messed up russian food</title><content type='html'>So it seems I haven't posted in a while. As in, since before winter break a while. I wanted to do a post like my sister did after her first semester of college, about what I've learned and how much I've grown as a person, but it takes so long to type these things up that I often wonder how she ever had the patience to type such long posts.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That's part of why I've been thinking about these vlogs that have been going around youtube. This one in particular, called "breaking nyc" is literally just this guy going around with a camera videotaping whatever he does during the day, including going to barnes and noble, going to school, and occasionally washing the dishes. And these videos get thousands, no hundreds of thousands of views- and he makes a new one every day. And I'm thinking- hey this is kind of like that blogging thing we used to do. Like back when we all did it. My father would put some funny story up once or twice a week, my sister would always have the best stories about our relatives in new york, Ezzie would leave funny comments, and every once in a blue moon my mom would put something up.&lt;br /&gt;
Now it seems me and iguana are the only ones who pay our blogs any heed at all. No one reads them, and no one writes them. They used to be such a great way for us to keep each other updated on what funny or&amp;nbsp;exciting things are going on in our lives.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
These days it seems you can turn that kind of thing into internet gold by putting it up on youtube. I'm not sure how these things get so popular- I mean the guy is funny, but seriously who wants to watch him do his dishes? And yet apparently this guy gets recognized in diners and stuff. If I was ever downtown, there's a good chance I'd run into him. His cousin (at least I think she's his cousin) meekakitty won $100,000 in an online contest through her vlog, when she asked the viewers to vote for her. She's using&lt;br /&gt;
the money to pay for college.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And by the way, both of their videos are very funny, and it's clear they put a ton of effort into them. I'm starting to wonder what would be more work- typing my blogs up, or turning them into "vlogs". The vlogs have potential to be really funny, and possibly even to catch on online (although I would never expect that to happen), but I think they require something these guys have that I don't: energy. Maybe that's why people will watch raywilliamjohnson make corn chowder, or watch meekakitty talk about essentially nothing for four minutes- because they do it in such a funny style. It's partly the editing, but it's also just the energy and excitement they put into it (meekakitty in particular). I guess that's something I don't have, although I really wish I did.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It would definitely be more awkward for me to video these things and put them up, but it'd also be funnier. Blogs used to be things people would read for a good laugh; now it seems to be a good place to go to see Shlock Rock advertisements. Remember when people would shoot coffee out of their noses reading stories about yonina's ridiculous books or conversations? (which I can assure you are in no short supply) What happened? Nobody has time anymore?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I admit that I've also slowed my blogging, from like a couples times a week to like once a month at best. It's definitely not because there's nothing going on (although occassionally that's true). But it's just that the whole thing has gotten kind of old. Writing these blogs seems to have become something I look upon as a chore. I used to get so excited when I'd laugh at something and say "that's going in the blog!" It seems to have lost some of its zeal over the last few years. That's what gets me thinking that maybe it's time for a new medium. Maybe the best way to bring life back to these blogs is to "vlog" them instead. And gosh darnit, if "breaking nyc" can get half a million views of this guy washing his dishes, I don't see what I've got to lose!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But shooting and editing is a lot of work, and this guy's youtube show, "equals three", apparently takes up most of his week. Although I don't think it has to. But you know, he's got fans. Thousands of them! That's pretty cool! I mean, what did he do? He set up some lights in a corner of his room and put up videos of him talking about...other youtube videos? And he gets thousands of subscribers! He sells t-shirts! You've gotta wonder, if he can do it, can anyone?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now I'm not guaranteeing anything, and I'm not saying you can expect me to make one of these and put it up next week, but it's just something I've been thinking about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-5352616991413970868?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/5352616991413970868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=5352616991413970868' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/5352616991413970868?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/5352616991413970868?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2010/01/vlog-sounds-like-some-kind-of-messed-up.html' title='&quot;Vlog&quot; sounds like some kind of messed up russian food'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;D0YERXk_cCp7ImA9WxBREko.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-8867758875302612758</id><published>2009-12-30T19:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T07:58:24.748-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2009-12-31T07:58:24.748-08:00</app:edited><title>Evil Overlord List</title><content type='html'>I saw this posted onto one of the doors in my dorm hallway. It's pretty good stuff.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The Top 100 Things I'd Do&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;If I Ever Became An Evil Overlord&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2lvWXiHEjvM/SzzJvKjagrI/AAAAAAAAAE0/_yKsfJcYzGs/s1600-h/huntsman2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2lvWXiHEjvM/SzzJvKjagrI/AAAAAAAAAE0/_yKsfJcYzGs/s200/huntsman2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My Legions of Terror will have helmets with clear plexiglass visors, not face-concealing ones.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My ventilation ducts will be too small to crawl through.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My noble half-brother whose throne I usurped will be killed, not kept anonymously imprisoned in a forgotten cell of my dungeon.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Shooting is not too good for my enemies.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The artifact which is the source of my power will not be kept on the Mountain of Despair beyond the River of Fire guarded by the Dragons of Eternity. It will be in my safe-deposit box. The same applies to the object which is my one weakness.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not gloat over my enemies' predicament before killing them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;When I've captured my adversary and he says, "Look, before you kill me, will you at least tell me what this is all about?" I'll say, "No." and shoot him. No, on second thought I'll shoot him then say "No."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;After I kidnap the beautiful princess, we will be married immediately in a quiet civil ceremony, not a lavish spectacle in three weeks' time during which the final phase of my plan will be carried out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not include a self-destruct mechanism unless absolutely necessary. If it is necessary, it will not be a large red button labelled "Danger: Do Not Push". The big red button marked "Do Not Push" will instead trigger a spray of bullets on anyone stupid enough to disregard it. Similarly, the ON/OFF switch will not clearly be labelled as such.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not interrogate my enemies in the inner sanctum -- a small hotel well outside my borders will work just as well.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will be secure in my superiority. Therefore, I will feel no need to prove it by leaving clues in the form of riddles or leaving my weaker enemies alive to show they pose no threat.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;One of my advisors will be an average five-year-old child. Any flaws in my plan that he is able to spot will be corrected before implementation.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;All slain enemies will be cremated, or at least have several rounds of ammunition emptied into them, not left for dead at the bottom of the cliff. The announcement of their deaths, as well as any accompanying celebration, will be deferred until after the aforementioned disposal.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The hero is not entitled to a last kiss, a last cigarette, or any other form of last request.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will never employ any device with a digital countdown. If I find that such a device is absolutely unavoidable, I will set it to activate when the counter reaches 117 and the hero is just putting his plan into operation.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will never utter the sentence "But before I kill you, there's just one thing I want to know."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;When I employ people as advisors, I will occasionally listen to their advice.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not have a son. Although his laughably under-planned attempt to usurp power would easily fail, it would provide a fatal distraction at a crucial point in time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not have a daughter. She would be as beautiful as she was evil, but one look at the hero's rugged countenance and she'd betray her own father.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Despite its proven stress-relieving effect, I will not indulge in maniacal laughter. When so occupied, it's too easy to miss unexpected developments that a more attentive individual could adjust to accordingly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will hire a talented fashion designer to create original uniforms for my Legions of Terror, as opposed to some cheap knock-offs that make them look like Nazi stormtroopers, Roman footsoldiers, or savage Mongol hordes. All were eventually defeated and I want my troops to have a more positive mind-set.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;No matter how tempted I am with the prospect of unlimited power, I will not consume any energy field bigger than my head.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will keep a special cache of low-tech weapons and train my troops in their use. That way -- even if the heroes manage to neutralize my power generator and/or render the standard-issue energy weapons useless -- my troops will not be overrun by a handful of savages armed with spears and rocks.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will maintain a realistic assessment of my strengths and weaknesses. Even though this takes some of the fun out of the job, at least I will never utter the line "No, this cannot be! I AM INVINCIBLE!!!" (After that, death is usually instantaneous.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;No matter how well it would perform, I will never construct any sort of machinery which is completely indestructible except for one small and virtually inaccessible vulnerable spot.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;No matter how attractive certain members of the rebellion are, there is probably someone just as attractive who is not desperate to kill me. Therefore, I will think twice before ordering a prisoner sent to my bedchamber.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will never build only one of anything important. All important systems will have redundant control panels and power supplies. For the same reason I will always carry at least two fully loaded weapons at all times.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My pet monster will be kept in a secure cage from which it cannot escape and into which I could not accidentally stumble.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will dress in bright and cheery colors, and so throw my enemies into confusion.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;All bumbling conjurers, clumsy squires, no-talent bards, and cowardly thieves in the land will be preemptively put to death. My foes will surely give up and abandon their quest if they have no source of comic relief.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;All naive, busty tavern wenches in my realm will be replaced with surly, world-weary waitresses who will provide no unexpected reinforcement and/or romantic subplot for the hero or his sidekick.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not fly into a rage and kill a messenger who brings me bad news just to illustrate how evil I really am. Good messengers are hard to come by.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I won't require high-ranking female members of my organization to wear a stainless-steel bustier. Morale is better with a more casual dress-code. Similarly, outfits made entirely from black leather will be reserved for formal occasions.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not turn into a snake. It never helps.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not grow a goatee. In the old days they made you look diabolic. Now they just make you look like a disaffected member of Generation X.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not imprison members of the same party in the same cell block, let alone the same cell. If they are important prisoners, I will keep the only key to the cell door on my person instead of handing out copies to every bottom-rung guard in the prison.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If my trusted lieutenant tells me my Legions of Terror are losing a battle, I will believe him. After all, he's my trusted lieutenant.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If an enemy I have just killed has a younger sibling or offspring anywhere, I will find them and have them killed immediately, instead of waiting for them to grow up harboring feelings of vengeance towards me in my old age.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If I absolutely must ride into battle, I will certainly not ride at the forefront of my Legions of Terror, nor will I seek out my opposite number among his army.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will be neither chivalrous nor sporting. If I have an unstoppable superweapon, I will use it as early and as often as possible instead of keeping it in reserve.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Once my power is secure, I will destroy all those pesky time-travel devices.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;When I capture the hero, I will make sure I also get his dog, monkey, ferret, or whatever sickeningly cute little animal capable of untying ropes and filching keys happens to follow him around.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will maintain a healthy amount of skepticism when I capture the beautiful rebel and she claims she is attracted to my power and good looks and will gladly betray her companions if I just let her in on my plans.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will only employ bounty hunters who work for money. Those who work for the pleasure of the hunt tend to do dumb things like even the odds to give the other guy a sporting chance.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will make sure I have a clear understanding of who is responsible for what in my organization. For example, if my general screws up I will not draw my weapon, point it at him, say "And here is the price for failure," then suddenly turn and kill some random underling.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If an advisor says to me "My liege, he is but one man. What can one man possibly do?", I will reply "This." and kill the advisor.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If I learn that a callow youth has begun a quest to destroy me, I will slay him while he is still a callow youth instead of waiting for him to mature.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will treat any beast which I control through magic or technology with respect and kindness. Thus if the control is ever broken, it will not immediately come after me for revenge.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If I learn the whereabouts of the one artifact which can destroy me, I will not send all my troops out to seize it. Instead I will send them out to seize something else and quietly put a Want-Ad in the local paper.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My main computers will have their own special operating system that will be completely incompatible with standard IBM and Macintosh powerbooks.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If one of my dungeon guards begins expressing concern over the conditions in the beautiful princess' cell, I will immediately transfer him to a less people-oriented position.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will hire a team of board-certified architects and surveyors to examine my castle and inform me of any secret passages and abandoned tunnels that I might not know about.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If the beautiful princess that I capture says "I'll never marry you! Never, do you hear me, NEVER!!!", I will say "Oh well" and kill her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not strike a bargain with a demonic being then attempt to double-cross it simply because I feel like being contrary.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The deformed mutants and odd-ball psychotics will have their place in my Legions of Terror. However before I send them out on important covert missions that require tact and subtlety, I will first see if there is anyone else equally qualified who would attract less attention.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My Legions of Terror will be trained in basic marksmanship. Any who cannot learn to hit a man-sized target at 10 meters will be used for target practice.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Before employing any captured artifacts or machinery, I will carefully read the owner's manual.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If it becomes necessary to escape, I will never stop to pose dramatically and toss off a one-liner.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will never build a sentient computer smarter than I am.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My five-year-old child advisor will also be asked to decipher any code I am thinking of using. If he breaks the code in under 30 seconds, it will not be used. Note: this also applies to passwords.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If my advisors ask "Why are you risking everything on such a mad scheme?", I will not proceed until I have a response that satisfies them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will design fortress hallways with no alcoves or protruding structural supports which intruders could use for cover in a firefight.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Bulk trash will be disposed of in incinerators, not compactors. And they will be kept hot, with none of that nonsense about flames going through accessible tunnels at predictable intervals.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will see a competent psychiatrist and get cured of all extremely unusual phobias and bizarre compulsive habits which could prove to be a disadvantage.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If I must have computer systems with publically available terminals, the maps they display of my complex will have a room clearly marked as the Main Control Room. That room will be the Execution Chamber. The actual main control room will be marked as Sewage Overflow Containment.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My security keypad will actually be a fingerprint scanner. Anyone who watches someone press a sequence of buttons or dusts the pad for fingerprints then subsequently tries to enter by repeating that sequence will trigger the alarm system.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;No matter how many shorts we have in the system, my guards will be instructed to treat every surveillance camera malfunction as a full-scale emergency.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will spare someone who saved my life sometime in the past. This is only reasonable as it encourages others to do so. However, the offer is good one time only. If they want me to spare them again, they'd better save my life again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;All midwives will be banned from the realm. All babies will be delivered at state-approved hospitals. Orphans will be placed in foster-homes, not abandoned in the woods to be raised by creatures of the wild.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;When my guards split up to search for intruders, they will always travel in groups of at least two. They will be trained so that if one of them disappears mysteriously while on patrol, the other will immediately initiate an alert and call for backup, instead of quizzically peering around a corner.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If I decide to test a lieutenant's loyalty and see if he/she should be made a trusted lieutenant, I will have a crack squad of marksmen standing by in case the answer is no.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If all the heroes are standing together around a strange device and begin to taunt me, I will pull out a conventional weapon instead of using my unstoppable superweapon on them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not agree to let the heroes go free if they win a rigged contest, even though my advisors assure me it is impossible for them to win.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;When I create a multimedia presentation of my plan designed so that my five-year-old advisor can easily understand the details, I will not label the disk "Project Overlord" and leave it lying on top of my desk.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will instruct my Legions of Terror to attack the hero en masse, instead of standing around waiting while members break off and attack one or two at a time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If the hero runs up to my roof, I will not run up after him and struggle with him in an attempt to push him over the edge. I will also not engage him at the edge of a cliff. (In the middle of a rope-bridge over a river of molten lava is not even worth considering.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If I have a fit of temporary insanity and decide to give the hero the chance to reject a job as my trusted lieutentant, I will retain enough sanity to wait until my current trusted lieutenant is out of earshot before making the offer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not tell my Legions of Terror "And he must be taken alive!" The command will be "And try to take him alive if it is reasonably practical."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If my doomsday device happens to come with a reverse switch, as soon as it has been employed it will be melted down and made into limited-edition commemorative coins.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If my weakest troops fail to eliminate a hero, I will send out my best troops instead of wasting time with progressively stronger ones as he gets closer and closer to my fortress.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If I am fighting with the hero atop a moving platform, have disarmed him, and am about to finish him off and he glances behind me and drops flat, I too will drop flat instead of quizzically turning around to find out what he saw.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not shoot at any of my enemies if they are standing in front of the crucial support beam to a heavy, dangerous, unbalanced structure.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If I'm eating dinner with the hero, put poison in his goblet, then have to leave the table for any reason, I will order new drinks for both of us instead of trying to decide whether or not to switch with him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not have captives of one sex guarded by members of the opposite sex.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not use any plan in which the final step is horribly complicated, e.g. "Align the 12 Stones of Power on the sacred altar then activate the medallion at the moment of total eclipse." Instead it will be more along the lines of "Push the button."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will make sure that my doomsday device is up to code and properly grounded.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My vats of hazardous chemicals will be covered when not in use. Also, I will not construct walkways above them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If a group of henchmen fail miserably at a task, I will not berate them for incompetence then send the same group out to try the task again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;After I captures the hero's superweapon, I will not immediately disband my legions and relax my guard because I believe whoever holds the weapon is unstoppable. After all, the hero held the weapon and I took it from him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not design my Main Control Room so that every workstation is facing away from the door.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I will not ignore the messenger that stumbles in exhausted and obviously agitated until my personal grooming or current entertainment is finished. It might actually be important.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If I ever talk to the hero on the phone, I will not taunt him. Instead I will say this his dogged perseverance has given me new insight on the futility of my evil ways and that if he leaves me alone for a few months of quiet contemplation I will likely return to the path of righteousness. (Heroes are incredibly gullible in this regard.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If I decide to hold a double execution of the hero and an underling who failed or betrayed me, I will see to it that the hero is scheduled to go first.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;When arresting prisoners, my guards will not allow them to stop and grab a useless trinket of purely sentimental value.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My dungeon will have its own qualified medical staff complete with bodyguards. That way if a prisoner becomes sick and his cellmate tells the guard it's an emergency, the guard will fetch a trauma team instead of opening up the cell for a look.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My door mechanisms will be designed so that blasting the control panel on the outside seals the door and blasting the control panel on the inside opens the door, not vice versa.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My dungeon cells will not be furnished with objects that contain reflective surfaces or anything that can be unravelled.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;If an attractive young couple enters my realm, I will carefully monitor their activities. If I find they are happy and affectionate, I will ignore them. However if circumstance have forced them together against their will and they spend all their time bickering and criticizing each other except during the intermittent occasions when they are saving each others' lives at which point there are hints of sexual tension, I will immediately order their execution.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Any data file of crucial importance will be padded to 1.45Mb in size.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Finally, to keep my subjects permanently locked in a mindless trance, I will provide each of them with free unlimited Internet access.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-8867758875302612758?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/8867758875302612758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=8867758875302612758' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/8867758875302612758?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/8867758875302612758?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2009/12/evil-overlord-list.html' title='Evil Overlord List'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_2lvWXiHEjvM/SzzJvKjagrI/AAAAAAAAAE0/_yKsfJcYzGs/s72-c/huntsman2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;D0QEQX89eCp7ImA9WxBREEs.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-481672443352184021</id><published>2009-12-28T21:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T21:41:40.160-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2009-12-28T21:41:40.160-08:00</app:edited><title>Midnight Madness, not to be confused with Midtown Madness</title><content type='html'>I head over to the Morg lounge for some free pizza tonight. There have been signs up for weeks about the free food going on every night this week. I get there five minutes early, and there is literally a line out the door. Quickly judging the situation at hand, standing outside in the cold in my sweater, I make the logical choice and get in line for the pizza. The line doesn't move too much. I start to get a little suspicious when I continue to see people coming out of the building with pizza, while the line stands completely still. Eventually some guy comes out with a slice of pizza, looks at the line, and starts yelling "Hey, you know there's no real line right? There's no order, you just go in and take pizza! Sheesh, you know it's called midnight madness for a reason!"&lt;br /&gt;
I am briefly reminded of a clip of Homestar Runner standing in line at bubs concession stand, with a sign that says "Stand in Line: $5." Homestar turns around and says to the guy behind him "Best five bucks I ever spent!" So I did that mentally, knowing better than to make obscure references to random people (cough perel cough). &lt;br /&gt;
Anyways, nobody moves for a few minutes. I guess they're all thinking "It's a trick!" "It's like those emails about working from home!" "No way it's that easy!" But after awhile, everyone just kind of falls out of line and starts stumbling over to through the doorway. I had my pizza within five minutes- that being said, it was pretty awful.&lt;br /&gt;
Not that I had a whole lot else going on- I had my history final this morning, and I think I did pretty well. Finished after only a little over an hour. The history final was second only to the dreaded comp sci final in difficulty, and if the comp sci final is anywhere near as long, I should be able to finish in time to make my flight. Tomorrow is hebrew, which should be easy enough. I spent some time tonight studying for it, and I have all of tomorrow morning, so I should be good.&lt;br /&gt;
No other really exciting stories to relate, as if studying for my hebrew final was full of action packed drama. Although question remains- what will I do all of winter break if I don't get any Mashiach work?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-481672443352184021?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/481672443352184021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=481672443352184021' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/481672443352184021?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/481672443352184021?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2009/12/midnight-madness-not-to-be-confused.html' title='Midnight Madness, not to be confused with Midtown Madness'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;CkEBRXcyeSp7ImA9WxBSE0o.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-3175431462015826248</id><published>2009-12-20T20:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-20T20:44:14.991-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2009-12-20T20:44:14.991-08:00</app:edited><title>aaand here come the finals</title><content type='html'>what do you do when you can't bring yourself to study, but don't have much else to do? Blog, of course! At this point I realize that if I'm going to out-do my sister in blogging, I'm going to have to pick up the pace. And besides, I've got a good twenty minutes to kill until my load in the dryer is done, and I seriously doubt I can get any more information out of this Gemara right here than I already have. I've been, like, torturing it. I mean, when I started, it was singing like a canary, but now it's just sitting here, limp and numb to its surroundings. Nothing doing here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, this is reading week- no class, just cramming for finals. It's a semi-new concept for me, coming from That School I Came From where you felt lucky if you had &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;less&lt;/span&gt; class on finals week. So naturally I feel like I'm going to have some time-management issues. That may mean a little more time on the xbox than is healthy (I have some serious ground to cover in modern warfare 2), but my schedule this semester is somewhat lighter than it would be usually, and the only real issue I'm going to have is with computer science, without a doubt the hardest course I'm taking, and am in danger of failing. The professor boasts about how his finals are "killers" and half the stuff on the final from last semester was not even broached in class. Hopefully things will pull through, as long as I get help from the right people and put a serious effort into it, which I plan to do. "Planning", however, is not a major at this university.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyways the past couple of weeks I've noticed that I'm spending too much money here in new york. I've spent more money the last four months than I've spent collectively in my entire life. Granted that includes a tv and a macbook pro, but the fact that most of it was on long-term investments doesn't make me feel much better. I'm still paying like $45 to take a cab to the airport, to get to a flight which actually costs $64. I've spent quite a bit on restaurants here too, which I feel guilty about to a lesser extent, since I live for food. &lt;br /&gt;The truth is I'm not scrapping for cash as it is. I just have issues parting with my money. Especially if I'm not making any. I've put some effort into finding a job, and so far I've come up with nothing. I actually came here with the idea that I'd be getting an internship with Viacom helping with video editing. Nothing even came close to materializing there, although I did edit the spoof for the play, to tremendous success. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My goals now are to finish off the rest of these finals- and finish them well- and then get home for some long-awaited vacation. There is a small chance of me missing my flight next Thursday, as my last final officially ends about a little under two  hours before my plane takes off. Although last time I went to LaGuardia, the car service got me there within 20 minutes, I was through security in 10, only to find out that my flight had been delayed three hours. While the conditions may not be the same, I would be shocked if it took me an extra hour just to get to the airport. But I've been shocked before. Stay tuned for partial excitement!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-3175431462015826248?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/3175431462015826248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=3175431462015826248' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/3175431462015826248?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/3175431462015826248?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2009/12/aaand-here-come-finals.html' title='aaand here come the finals'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;Ck8NRn85fip7ImA9WxNaGE8.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-8793998550631784915</id><published>2009-12-02T21:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T22:14:57.126-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2009-12-02T22:14:57.126-08:00</app:edited><title>well haven't we been having fun</title><content type='html'>I've been sick the past two days. It began monday night in the theater, where our play rehearsal was once again going past 1 am. For those of you not in on this, I'm doing the lights for the YU dramatics society play "of mice and men", which starts this saturday night, and goes for another six days afterwards. So this week is called tech week, but most people call it "hell week" since it begins to dominate your life much more during the last week. (it was already pretty much dominating my life, going from 9-1 every night, so I wasn't really concerned). I spend most of my time there hanging lights, circuiting lights, and getting them to work on the board in the lights and sound booth behind the audience. It's tough work, and it's long, but I'm not so quick to say I haven't been enjoying it. It's grueling, absolutely, but I think I may prefer being busy working on a project, even if it is taking up virtually all of my free time.&lt;br /&gt;But anyways, that night I started feeling kind of sick. I was sitting in the booth with my stage manager, and I told him during the rehearsal,&lt;br /&gt;ME: "I think I'm going to be sick tomorrow."&lt;br /&gt;SM: "Well that would suck, wouldn't it?"&lt;br /&gt;ME: "Yes, it would."&lt;br /&gt;It didn't go too much farther than that. Anyways, I was right, and the next morning I felt pretty awful. At my sister's behest, I went to the student health center to get checked out. There, I was reacquainted with Vladamir, the assistant head physician at YU (i think) whom I'd met at orientation. He was the one who told me if I didn't have my immunization forms on orientation day, he would send me &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;chome&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Anyways, he checked me out briefly. Most of the out- checking was him writing stuff down, so I don't know how thorough he really was. I know he listened to me breath, and asked me how I felt. He also took my temperature, which came up normal.&lt;br /&gt;Long story short, he decided I had the flu (most likely since I hadn't had the vaccination) and told me to stay in bed for the next four days. Missing four days of college during tech week is not as much fun as it may sound like. It meant I would either be completely unprepared for the show next week, or they'd have to find someone to replace me, and that I'd be missing classes which I cannot easily make up, if I can make them up at all.&lt;br /&gt;So anyways, that's where I've been the last two days. Sitting here, watching stuff on my laptop (most notably "merlin" "star trek (new movie)" and "cops" on youtube) Today I decided to go over to perel's apartment, since I guess I wanted to reconnect with my tv, currently in her custody. This word best describes the tv's current state. Hopefully after the whole play thing is over, I'll be able to "get it back."&lt;br /&gt;So I went over there, bringing her dinner through the rain, which was not much more than a drizzle at the time. I brought my coat, just in case, in addition to her umbrella which I was returning. In case it was raining when I left, I wanted to have my coat with me.&lt;br /&gt;For those of you just joining, my sister lives in a notably unsafe neighborhood. I could've sworn I watched a car get stolen while I stood outside watching the moving van the day she was moving in. But I've never had any issues walking to her apartment before, and I go around twice a week. The first few times I was really on my toes, but a sense of security has seeped in, and I no longer look behind me every ten seconds. This is probably a mistake, but I usually see alot of cops on my way back. This should probably frighten me, but it usually just makes me feel safer. It's like "Oh look, cops! No one would dare mug me at this corner!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hung out at her apartment for a few hours. I tried to play on my xbox- didn't really find myself in the mood. I can practically play soul calibur with my eyes closed- it seems to have lost its appeal. Anyways, I basically just watched Roswell with her and read off her cooking directions for zucchini kugel. Also helped her put a leaf in her table, and took out her garbage on my way out. Sure, why not?&lt;br /&gt;The garbage thing frustrated me. By the time I decided to leave, I was so wiped out, it was going to be an effort just to get back, and I could hear through the window that it was still raining. And I'm sick. I took some of her ibuprofen (quite a bit of it, actually), but it hasn't seemed to kick in. The last thing I want to do right now is take her garbage down to the basement. It's hard for me to refuse these kinds of things though, and I always figure that it's never worth the argument, so I just do it. Fine, no problem.&lt;br /&gt;On my way out, I noticed that it was now pouring outside. Great. As I turn onto the sidewalk, I also notice it's awfully windy, blowing my hood back and blowing rain onto my pants. I adjust my hood,, but with the wind it's hard for me to see in front of me. I vaguely think about what might happen if someone tries to mug me. I've got no cash in my wallet- just credit cards and a drivers license. And like, a barnes and noble gift card worth around $8, which I'm sure the thief would put to much better use than I'll ever end up doing. But I don't really get nervous. When you want something to be true, it's usually easy to convince yourself that it is. I thought things like "Oh, it's raining. Who would want to stand out here in the rain?" &lt;br /&gt;I passed several people whom in hindsight looked pretty shady, but as soon as I passed them, and they'd done nothing, I thought nothing of it. Nevertheless, I tried to keep my guard up, and made an effort to look ahead.&lt;br /&gt;About a block away from my sister's building, I saw someone walking my way who looked awfully sketchy. I crossed the street.&lt;br /&gt;"That'll fool 'em" I thought to myself.&lt;br /&gt;There were two people on the corner in front of a building- a man talking to a woman. I thought nothing of this either- I guess I usually figure if there's a woman around, no one's going to do any mugging. Like, it's not done or something. I dunno. I overheard one part of the conversation as I passed:&lt;br /&gt;"Give it to me."&lt;br /&gt;It was said somewhat calmly, and it didn't really concern me until the guy lunged toward the woman and grabbed her, most likely going for the purse hanging from her right shoulder. Well, in hindsight, anyway. I ran off instantly, desperately not wanting to become involved. As I approached the next corner, I think I heard a bang, and the man was definitely yelling in pain, although I wouldn't have thought that the lady had a gun. &lt;br /&gt;I ran for the next block. A lot of things went through my mind from the moment the guy had attacked her until I arrived at my dorm building, among them:&lt;br /&gt;That I had just come as close as I'd ever been to a mugging, and hopefully as close as I'll ever be. The two almost smashed into me in the struggle.&lt;br /&gt;That I didn't call the police. The thought vaguely occurred to me as I ran away. Yes I had a cell phone, but what would I tell them? I couldn't picture myself in that kind of situation. I kind of got the feeling the officer would say something like "welcome to new york buddy" and hang up. Besides, I was sick, and I really just wanted to get home. I seriously was not interested in being interrogated by cops, or whatever was going to happen. It was really the same reason why I didn't call the police when that car might have gotten stolen- I didn't want to get involved. It's likely I never will.&lt;br /&gt;My sense of security around this neighborhood has been completely shattered, although I guess it should never have been there to begin with.&lt;br /&gt;But what occurred to me as I entered my dorm building is that if that really was a mugging, then had I not taken out my sister's garbage, that could've easily been me, with some other frightened stranger running past me. That thought does not change how I feel about not calling the police- but it does seriously scare me.&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm off to sleep. And if I'm not better tomorrow- heck, even if I am better tomorrow, I'm pretty much screwed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-8793998550631784915?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/8793998550631784915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=8793998550631784915' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/8793998550631784915?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/8793998550631784915?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2009/12/well-havent-we-been-having-fun.html' title='well haven&apos;t we been having fun'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DEEGQH8zcSp7ImA9WxNVEEQ.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-8829834563983448719</id><published>2009-10-20T18:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T20:43:41.189-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2009-10-20T20:43:41.189-07:00</app:edited><title>The Times</title><content type='html'>...do you know them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently it's been a while since my last blog. Unlike my sister, I do not blog when I am frustrated or depressed or just need something to do. I generally do far less constructive things with that time, but every now and then I like to put down what I'm feeling in words and look back on it. I sometimes surprise myself with what I write, and it's kind of a confusing time for me right now, so I'm gonna see what I come up with.&lt;br /&gt; Things have been kinda like a roller coaster this past week and half. When I left New York for succos break, I was having a pretty great time. Home had sunk into the back of my mind a few weeks beforehand, and I think I was really starting to get the hang of New York. Was I desperate to go home? I don't think so. About four weeks earlier, I was panicking about how far away the break was, but in the week before I left it didn't seem such a big deal to me. "Yeah I could go back, could I stay longer if I had to? Wouldn't be a problem."  I was extremely happy to be going home, and when I found out Kovi was there it was even better, but I could've gone longer if I had to.&lt;br /&gt;The vacation was incredible. Everyone was home for succos, something that hadn't happened for two years. It felt like the old times, the good old days. I think it may have gotten me a little too rooted in that mindset. For two weeks, I could have been in elementary school again (of course, I believe I was somewhat miserable when I was actually in elementary school, but that's how that goes). And then I come from that straight back to college, and I was miserable for almost a whole week. I had the same problems I'd had when the semester started, but to a lesser extent. I ate much less for a few days, no big deal. But around last weekend, a disturbing thought came to me: none of this really had to happen. It was my decision to come here. I remember last year when I had ten college brochures on the table in my WITS dorm room. Most went to secular colleges, such as UWM, MATC, MSOE, and the occasional oddball like St. John's in Queens. I never fully considered UWM because I could never picture telling my rebbe that. YU alone was a radical choice, being one of only a couple people in my 24 person class going to any kind of college in the first place! My rebbe spent the majority of the year trying to convince me that college could wait, and there was no reason not to learn for a year first to develop my ruchnius.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My response to that always was that it's true, but that doesn't make me want to go. I still don't want to spend a whole year learning the whole morning, afternoon, and then having some free time at night (after night seder of course). That kind of schedule did not appeal to me because I'm just not that interested in learning. I don't find it particularly interesting, and I don't  feel much of an accomplishment by doing it. Believe me, I've been learning Gemara since fifth grade, and it hasn't gotten any more fascinating. I've never had the feeling that learning about what to do if your ox kills someone brings me closer to G-d, or makes me better as a person. It's like a school subject to me, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not something you can really tell a rebbe. I think my rebbe last year spent that time trying to get me to say it, but I couldn't. I think it's because I had too much respect for him to say something like that, but it's the way I am, and it definitely influenced my decision. Now that I look back on that decision, I wonder if I would have picked YU at all had I really considered those local colleges as an option. I remember realizing that the other colleges were a small fraction of what YU costed, and I could most likely graduate from them without having to pay back huge loans afterwards. Meanwhile, I would have a similarly good degree. But the money surprisingly was not a huge factor in the decision, because I think I realized that if it was the right place, it was worth it no matter how much it costed. &lt;br /&gt;But now that I've been here, I understand how incredible it would be to be able to go home at the end of the day like so many people here do. A good majority of the people I've met are from either New York or New Jersey, and they go home all the time. This painfully reminds me of when I was an "in-towner" at WITS, and I would go home every sunday while the "out of towners" stayed at the Yeshiva and watched me drive off. Now I'm the out of towner. &lt;br /&gt;Maybe this is what got me thinking about this. I could be an in-towner if I wanted to. I could be home permanently in January, drive to school, get a job, and live at home with my parents and hilarious siblings. For some reason, it seems like it'd be easier to have a job if I had a car. Maybe because I drove to and from the old home the last two summers, and made some decent money working there (although I wouldn't be doing that- most likely apply for a job at Milwaukee PC or something). I could live in my own familiar neighborhood, something I plan on doing the second after I graduate anyways. At least for now.&lt;br /&gt;There just seem to be so many benefits to going to a local college. And what do I get for being here? Well, I'm with people like me, you say. But I've so far failed to meet anyone anywhere near my age group, although I have made some friends here. Friends. There's something I'm not likely to have in UWM. I think it's the most important thing I have here that I wouldn't have there. College is supposed to be a time to network and make connections with people who will help you later on in life. Now I remember that as being a big reason for coming to YU. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now there's a problem, because I'm going to be unhappy no matter what I do. There are big advantages to doing either thing. YU is most likely the more responsible choice for my future, but just the thought of leaving in January and not coming back gets me excited. &lt;br /&gt;Then again, as some of perel's old posts have shown me, home is not always how you remember it. And seeing how things usually go with me, I'd probably enjoy it for a few weeks, and then decide I'm ready to go back. In fact, I was somewhat anxious to come back over this last break. Of course, once I got here I was ready to go home. Zathrus can never have anything nice. &lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to think that it's not necessarily home that I miss- it's being a kid, not having to worry about all this college/life stuff. Maybe I think that if I live at home, I can postpone all that for a little longer, just go to school like always, come home, do homework, play, just like it always was. But I know it can't stay that way. I guess I just feel the transition would be smoother if I just got a degree at home, and then moved into my own apartment (priced at a third of what I'd get in NY) and got my own job, car etc. But already this is when Perel tells me I'm thinking too far ahead. I don't like the feeling of not having a game plan, though. And my plan has always involved coming back home after school, so maybe I just figure why not spend these final years before all that happens at home? A switch wouldn't be easy- I've already got a pretty big commitment to YU, such as student loans, a tv, probably a lot of other things I don't know about. And I don't even know if I would want to do it, knowing that I could very well be miserable at home anyways.&lt;br /&gt;I guess I don't need to worry about what to do in January yet anyways, though. I'll just see how things are around late November-early December. Meanwhile, I'll get the most of things in New York, and who knows? I might be completely happy next week!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-8829834563983448719?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/8829834563983448719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=8829834563983448719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/8829834563983448719?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/8829834563983448719?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2009/10/times.html' title='The Times'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;CEEMQH88cSp7ImA9WxNXGEk.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-4488313009608120845</id><published>2009-10-06T08:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T08:24:41.179-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2009-10-06T08:24:41.179-07:00</app:edited><title>Salad Fingers.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-4488313009608120845?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/4488313009608120845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=4488313009608120845' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/4488313009608120845?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/4488313009608120845?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2009/10/salad-fingers.html' title='Salad Fingers.'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DEYNQHk8cSp7ImA9WxNQF08.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-4855320077437923360</id><published>2009-09-23T10:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T10:16:31.779-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2009-09-23T10:16:31.779-07:00</app:edited><title>ads?</title><content type='html'>so some random ads might pop up around here temporarily. I'm trying google adsense to see if I can make any money off of it, but I'm planning on moving it to another site once I have the site up and running. First I need content for the site...(hint- flash laura bow game? who can teach me how to use flash?)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-4855320077437923360?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/4855320077437923360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=4855320077437923360' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/4855320077437923360?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/4855320077437923360?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2009/09/ads.html' title='ads?'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;DUUNRX09fCp7ImA9WxNRGEs.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-5107801846484192437</id><published>2009-09-13T11:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T11:41:34.364-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2009-09-13T11:41:34.364-07:00</app:edited><title>all clear</title><content type='html'>well it would seem that my anxiety and homesickness have passed. First few weeks of college were pretty rough, but I guess I'm warming up to things now. I've been eating like crazy, probably a little too much. I've been swimming to try to offset that, but I never get to swim as often as I'd like to. My dorm situation has changed somewhat: I'm now in Muss, the quiet, more yeshivish dorm behind MTA that few people know about. And I have my own room. View that how you will, but right now I'm enjoying it. I guess it wasn't the most social choice, but I have still met the people around here, and hopefully we'll get to know each other better, although I doubt any of that will end up happening before succos break. And I'll get a roommate eventually anyways, so at least it's nice for now.&lt;br /&gt;I'm for the most part very happy with my classes. US history is not easy, but it is very interesting. Looks like this semester will be mostly about the Cold War and McCarthyism, which I've always thought I should know more about. The teacher is a real professional. She's taught at places like Harvard, and has written a few books on the subject. Not to mention she's been teaching for several decades, since before the cold war even ended. &lt;br /&gt;Hebrew Language has always been a soft spot for me, and I've even been recommended by the school to switch down to the lower class. Only problem with that is that the "lower class" is for people who have never spoken hebrew before, and besides it not only doesn't fill your requirement, but doesn't even give you credits. So I'm gonna do what I can in the Intermediate Hebrew class, and hopefully my years of Mar Arieff and Rabbi Rauch will pay off.&lt;br /&gt;English Comp is so far one of those joke classes. I've been good at writing for a while now, and it looks like this year we'll be doing exactly what I was doing for all of last year in advanced writing: writing papers and critiquing others. So at least for this semester that will be a cakewalk.&lt;br /&gt;Computer Science is a possible major for me, so I'm trying to take it really seriously. But there's a few problems.&lt;br /&gt;1) the teacher has this thick israeli accent, so it's hard enough for me to understand what he's saying, let alone what he's teaching.&lt;br /&gt;2) So far we have done virtually nothing. It's hard to stay focused while he lectures on about stuff that I either already know, or couldn't possibly understand yet. &lt;br /&gt;My strategy here might end up being just reading the book. That's what happened in chemistry two years ago, when Dr. Stone spent more time throwing temper tantrums than teaching. That actually worked very well. We'll see what happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd love to write about how Rachel's house was, but I don't have time now, and I want to do the story justice. Maybe another time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-5107801846484192437?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/5107801846484192437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=5107801846484192437' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/5107801846484192437?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/5107801846484192437?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2009/09/all-clear.html' title='all clear'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;Dk8MQ3gyeCp7ImA9WxNSE08.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-9026294316824076767</id><published>2009-08-26T14:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T15:14:42.690-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2009-08-26T15:14:42.690-07:00</app:edited><title>weird creepy mood swings</title><content type='html'>So, this morning. First day of MYP. I come into the zysman bais medrash, my $60+ sforim weighing my backpack down to pretty uncomfortable levels, and sit down by the rabbi cohen shiur table. This shiur consists of about 5 people besides me, all of whom seem to be at least 4 years my senior, and quite bearded. And then there’s me, the guy from Milwaukee who just graduated highschool. Just seeing the people at the table, I was somewhat intimidated, but I figured hey, gemara’s gemara, and if it’s anything like what I learned last year, I should be able to handle it. Actually, it IS going to be what I learned last year, since we’re learning the same mesechta. Well, as it turns out, the morning schedule for MYP is something I might call brutal. There is a space of about 3 hours, from 9 till about 11:40, which is the iyun seder (the word seder reminds me that I am now in a kind of bais medrash, which kind of gives me a sinking feeling in my stomach.) So that’s just one on one learning, in my case, with a guy several years older than me, and probably getting smicha soon. Makes me look like somewhat of an idiot, but I figured I’d give it my best shot. But I find it hard to focus- just like with everything else, it’s the same thing that’s been affecting my appetite, and last night I suspect it affected my sleep (although that may have been my roommate leaving his light on and typing up till 2 in the morning.) I’m not sure what it is, but I’ve suspected for a while that it’s the anxiety of knowing I won’t be back in my familiar neighborhood for five weeks, and even then I’ll just be there for long enough to fast for a day, build a succah, dance, and pack up, rushing back to this building. That, and the pressure to do well due to the huge amount of money my parents are putting into this education, as well as some of my own in the form of Stafford loans, not to mention the fact that there’s basically no one here that I know, and I don’t (or didn’t) know what to expect in terms of the college courses. But my most recent worry has been that maybe this place isn’t the place I thought it was. I chose YU over Landers because I thought YU was oriented more towards the college education, and less towards the learning. Yet after this seder from 9-11:40, we had a bekius shiur until around 12:20. Then there was about an hour lunch break, then the iyun shiur came from 1:20 till 2:30. And I think today’s schedule was somewhat shortened, being the first day and all. &lt;br /&gt; That’s about as much learning as I did last year, which I considered to be on the higher end- but it’s all in one shot, and more advanced. And while I think Rabbi Cohen is great as a person (although a little more mussardig then I thought at first), sometimes it’s hard to understand him in shiur. And when all these issues are threatening to explode my brain, I find it impossible to focus, and before you know it, my first day in MYP is down the drain. Now it’s possible that this will all just wear off. Maybe I actually can make it in MYP, and I’m just distracted with my new surroundings for the moment. But the thing that’s scaring me now is this tremendous mood swing. I went to US history pretty much a nervous wreck, putting up frantic facebook statuses and texting perel pleading to let me come over so I can just relax and take a deep breath. But at some point during history, i think I got interested. I took out my laptop, started taking things down, and before I knew it, I had done exactly what I had been trying to do since my father left- take my mind off the big picture, and focus on what was in front of me. By the time history was over, I was feeling 110% better. Kovi gave me a call, having heard about my woes over facebook, but I found I didn’t really even need the consolation anymore. In that conversation, I found myself laughing for the first time in a little while. There was a short break, and then I went to my second class, English composition, which was a breeze. I think my instructor for that course is great, and I actually might enjoy that class. So out of my four classes, I have high hopes for the two of them that I’ve started so far. Right now, I’m in a very good mood. My appetite is the best it’s been since I started having this whole issue. I could actually go for some pizza now for the first time since I’ve gotten to NY. Maybe I’m finally over this whole thing. I hope so. It’s been really annoying. My concern is just that it’s going to come back tomorrow. This is how it’s been, kind of like a bouncing ball. I started off really low today, to the point where I was seriously depressed, and then my mood just kind of shot all the way back up, somewhere around history class, and now I’m feeling perfect. But tomorrow I may wake up and start panicking again. Are these mood swings the sign of some kind of mental condition? Or is it just part of the adjustment? I don’t know, but right now I feel great, and I’m hoping to keep it that way for as long as I can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-9026294316824076767?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/9026294316824076767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=9026294316824076767' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/9026294316824076767?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/9026294316824076767?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2009/08/weird-creepy-mood-swings.html' title='weird creepy mood swings'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;AkUDQ3Y8cSp7ImA9WxNSEk8.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-20132034143957017</id><published>2009-08-25T12:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-25T12:24:32.879-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2009-08-25T12:24:32.879-07:00</app:edited><title>stress relief</title><content type='html'>i'm writing this right now because a) it's supposed to take my nerves off of things, and b) i have nothing else to do for the next hour. until my counseling appointment, that is. yes, it has been a fun first few days at YU, and already i seem to be falling apart at the seams. I really don't know why- i guess i'm just homesick. I've never been away from home- or my family- for five weeks straight, and even if i'm not thinking about that fact, it seems to take a subconscious toll on me. I've had no appetite for the last two days. I've barely eaten anything since yesterday morning. at least today there was somewhat of an improvement- now i'm hungry too. i have this overwhelming feeling of nausea which i assume comes from the anxiety i'm feeling about being away from home, being in college, not being completely sure what to do, or a few other reasons. no matter what i try, i can't get that nausea out of my system. i went and got tums and some other medication- they didn't do any good. it's just a mental thing i guess. i don't know how to get rid of that. so i'm going to see a therapist in about 45 minutes, though i can't imagine he'll improve things much, since i don't really know what needs to be improved in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;also, it's pretty hot here. my dorm is above 90 degrees most of the time, which may contribute to things a little bit. there's one room with air conditioning on this floor, called the lounge, but things don't get any better while im in there. i can't go there now because it smells like pizza, and that smell now makes me want to throw up.&lt;br /&gt;isn't that sad? i came here so excited for kosher pizza, and now somehow i can't even stand the smell of it. another possible factor is that i don't know anyone here. i've met a bunch of great guys, and some of them are really trying to help me, but for some reason nothing seems to work. &lt;br /&gt;my only respite was going to perel's apartment last night. there, for a time, i felt better, my appetite returned shortly, and i had some vegetable soup. we hung out for about an hour or so, and then i took a shuttle back. but tonight i'm going to a lazer tag/ bowling/ arcade social extravaganza thing, where hopefully i'm warm up to people, make some friends somehow, and take my mind off of things.&lt;br /&gt;I'm really not worried about my classes, save for the fact that apparently i have to buy textbooks for them, and not only do i not know where to go to get them, i won't know what to buy until the first day of classes. i even have to buy my own gemara, and the sforim sale isn't open till 6:30, and we leave for lazer tag at 7. ugh.&lt;br /&gt;and the swimming that i was so pumped for? hasn't been open for all of orientation so far. i thought i might be able to relax in the wirlpool, but the guard said there's no schedule for the pool to be open during orientation. so no dice there either.&lt;br /&gt;i'm really counting on this therapist to work something out with me, because if i'm not able to eat something soon, i don't know what's going to happen. tonight's roast turkey, and while i know that should sound good, my stomach feels queazy just thinking about it. and then of course the fact that i feel nauseous when i should be hungry adds to my anxiety, which makes me more nauseous, etc.&lt;br /&gt;everyone says that this all just wears off after a while, and i really hope it does. i also hope i haven't starved to death by that point. i don't really know what to do until that happens. but i do realize one thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's a darn good thing i didn't go to israel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-20132034143957017?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/20132034143957017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=20132034143957017' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/20132034143957017?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/20132034143957017?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2009/08/stress-relief.html' title='stress relief'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry gd:etag='W/&quot;CU8HRn09fyp7ImA9WxNSEUw.&quot;'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18237178.post-5145347172765244058</id><published>2009-08-24T04:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T04:37:17.367-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app='http://www.w3.org/2007/app'>2009-08-24T04:37:17.367-07:00</app:edited><title>Stay Tuned!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18237178-5145347172765244058?l=majormoron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/feeds/5145347172765244058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=18237178&amp;postID=5145347172765244058' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/5145347172765244058?v=2'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/18237178/posts/default/5145347172765244058?v=2'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://majormoron.blogspot.com/2009/08/stay-tuned.html' title='Stay Tuned!!!!!!!'/><author><name>Rafiki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08679691670479446432</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17877765849124177988'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>