UCR Sociology is Bunk

Good early morning to you, everyone!

I've decided to stop numbering my posts. Just because. Live with it.

Moving on, more and more people are telling me they read this. With that said, you'd expect me to update regularly, and on a fixed schedule, right?

WRONG. HA HA HA, EAT IT LOSERS.

HA HA HA- shit, I can't eat anything with only three teeth...

Anyway, fixed updating schedules are for tools with nothing better to do with their lives. I may have nothing better to do with my life than entertain you with my blog, but I'm no damn tool! And so, today's post....

....is about my late night life. Yes, the very first me-centric post of my blogging career. Get over it. Moving on, my late night life tonight consists of a sociology paper...

...which is now the topic of the post. Sociology. Yes. I have decided this, and you have NO RIGHT TO ARGUE. While I prep my post, enjoy this pleasing image of my opinion of your disapproval:

'nuff said.

Moving on... sociology is bunk. It is a discipline created by the have not's, in order to guilt the have's into feeling bad about their lives, and thus turn the have not's through the power of pity into haves. Granted, as a discipline, sociology is valid; perhaps I should've been more clear, UC RIVERSIDE SOCIOLOGY IS BUNK.

According to my TA, "over 90% of the department" consists of "avowed Marxists."

This clown.

Now, I'm all for political differences in America. Problem is, Marxism undermines the very foundations of American thought. These people, who support an ideology that undermines American thought, are teaching your children about social classes. Marxism promotes social class upheaval, in a distinctly un-American fashion; the rise of the proletariat, and "from each according to his ability, to each according to his need."

That's Communism, by the way.

The Obama Administration. HA HA HA I MADE A POLITICAL JOKE!

The entire mentality espoused by these people is ridiculous, and my paper equally so. As a taste of what we UC students suffer through, here's part of my prompt:

"...find a scholarly article on your own dealing with stratification in the criminal justice system and write a brief report on this article relating it to issues discussed in your Henslin text. You are required to find something that has to do with the Prison Industrial Complex (PIC), but are not limited to just this topic."

As defined by Wikipedia (that goddess of e-knowledge) in a sociological context, stratification is " the dividing of a society into levels based on power or socioeconomic status." It defines the PIC as a "term [which] often [implies] a network of actors who are motivated by making profit rather than solely by punishing or rehabilitating criminals or reducing crime rates."

So essentially, it has been said to us in so many words in a simple essay topic that prison is a creation of capitalist greed and the stratification of the lower classes to criminal status by the evil big business elite.

What UCR Sociology visualizes as the big business elite; a concept completely based in reality, and not on a movie's depiction of businessmen. Right?

Here then, is where UCR Sociology needs to get off it's damn pedestal. Yeah, private industry is in it to make money. Thing is, where else would you rather put these cuddly inmates- yknow, rapists, murderers, bank robbers, that lot- into "rehabilitation homes," where Grandma Ethel will teach them how to knit their way back into society?

That'll teach YOU not to rape, murder, and steal!

Seriously folks, come the hell on. Do we honestly need to let gang bangers, murderers, and rapists have a nice cuddly helping hand? Or, do they need to suffer for their crimes? I tend to side more with "suffer" and less with "cuddly;" these people are the scum of the Earth, and deserve to be treated as such. I don't care if Mr. X grew up in a shack by the river wearing a terry cloth for his only clothing, if he raped and then murdered ten people with an axe, he doesn't deserve rehabilitation: he deserves incarceration. His sociological perspective did NOT land him in that situation; his disgusting lack of a conscience did. Even if it by some chance DID, in the funny little world UC intellectuals live in, it wouldn't matter either way; society cannot and should not let this sort of crime go unpunished. Warm feel-good policies have nothing to do with this; prison is about punishment, and that's that.

Whew, time to get back to writing this disgustingly leftist paper. Stay frosty, kids... I'm going to go have one more coffee before I dive back in. Wish me luck!

Best,
E.Y.H.

College Majors: Theater

You know, tonight I think I'll talk about college majors.

So, you're in college. You're excited to be here, but somehow, you're a third year and are still undeclared! What to do? Well, here's the first in a hopefully long series of posts on college majors.

Theater: What the f*ck are you going to do with this? Even ART MAJORS can get jobs, unlike you guys. Unless you go to a dedicated theater school or a school with mad connections in entertainment (cough USC. cough NYU. cough.) or have a very well connected set of parents, you'd best have a second major, or several minors. In 99% of cases, theater majors don't even have the talent of a Disney Channel background extra, despite their belief that they outshine DiCaprio at acting, and Shakespeare at writing. Interestingly enough, these are the kids who believe they write "deep" poetry, have ten-mile-long "quotes" sections on any given social network, are very "artsy," constantly update Facebook with self-centered overly-emotional statuses, and in general are strongly disliked by majors that will have careers after graduation.

He's crying not because of teenage angst, but because he's been out of college three years with his Theater degree, and still works at Dave's Tattoo Emporium... as the janitor.

Seriously, and this bashing is coming from a f*cking Political Science major over here. Get your heads out of your idealistic asses, you wimps; you don't have Leo's talent or the Bard's brains. You are NOT deep, you are not NEARLY as unique as you think you are, and the world does NOT care about how much you "love your craft." When it comes time for getting a job, the man across the desk from you will not care that you were in the Wyoming State production of Hamlet as the third hag, he will care that you acquired useful skills in college, and that you can function in the modern workplace. Unfortunately, because you spent your college years pretending to be "deep," dressing different because you're "unique," and trying to be socially aloof because somehow you believe you're European at heart, you won't be able to function at all. You will not be familiar with suits (other than in that one production you did of Driving Miss Daisy), because you wore nothing but torn-up nuthugger jeans and too much black, because suits were "conformist." You will have holes from various piercings you did to "stand out" and be "unique." You will have tattoos you designed yourself to be "artsy" and "different."

Very unique, artsy, and non-conformist! Also, very unemployed.

Seriously, no one cares about your "self image." We live in a capitalist society, and if you want to succeed, you have to fit the mold. Bitch and whine if you want, but that's how it works. Suck it up, douchebags; after college, you'll be in the real world, and no one will care about your poetry or how different you are.

Well, no one that's going to offer you a job with a decent salary at least. Have fun serving fat people bad food at McD's.

On that wonderfully positive note, I'm going to end this post, and go back to studying linguistics, in order to satisfy my GE's, for a major I can use. Sleep easy, folks.

Best,
E.Y.H.

Post #7: Party Fouls 2

Whew, okay, I'm back. Rough couple of nights there, and now a rough day to match. Economics homework can suck it.

Meanwhile though, you were waiting for me to continue on party fouls, yes? No? Whatever, here goes. The following list is gospel, and is written by CollegeHumor.Com:

Party Foul #1: Screaming "Party Foul" when someone drops a drink.

Party Foul #2: Not being able to reach a bathroom before you puke.

Party Foul #3: Trying to start a fight.

Party Foul #4: Someone takes "It" out.

Party Foul #5: Screwing Around with the Music

Party Foul #6: Having Sex in a Roommate's Bed

Party Foul #7: Breaking Stuff

Party Foul #8: Not Chipping In

Party Foul #9: Urinating Indoors

Party Foul #10: The Cockblock

This list is indisputably good, and true, and 100% accurate. However, I'd like to add a few extras, if I may.

Party Foul #11: The Buzzkill

This is the one dude that has to ruin every buzz. You just sunk 9 out of 10 cups in BP and have one shot left, and everyone's cheering you on? He'll just talk about how he did 10 out of 10 with 10 shots. You've taken 7 shots in a row? He's done 20, in TJ, in a brothel, with Harrison Ford.

Mr. Ford proclaims his innocence. Would that face lie?

Alternatively, if everyone's having a great night, this is the guy who tells everyone in earshot "Yeah, this party's great, but what if the cops come?" Truly, an epic party foul right here.

Party Foul #12: The Inconsiderate Ex

Yes, we understand the relationship's over. Yes, we understand that you can't always avoid ending up at the same party. But c'mon folks, getting super touchy-feely with a new guy or girl in front of your ex isn't helping anything; you're making sentiments worse, and you're buzzkilling someone else.

No pics can possibly relate to this Party Foul, so here's one of a sad bunny.

On that note then, this is a technical double party foul, but due to the possibility of it being a subdivision of buzzkill, it only counts as one. Nevertheless, still a very un-chill act.

Party Foul #13: Ruining Someone's Car

I don't care if it's puke, piss, or other bodily fluids. You put it on someone else's car, you're going to ruin it for everyone around, especially if you're caught in the act. Just don't touch cars.

"You would piss on US?"

Don't touch cars man, that's a major, major foul!

At that though, I really do have to finish this econ work, so I'll complete this list some other day. Stay frosty people, and I hope you all had great Halloweens!

Best,
E.Y.H.

Post #6.5: Addendum

To all the teetotalers, shut-ins, and stuck up pricks that don't party, don't imbibe in certain fluids, and in general bash on those who do so with all the self-righteous fury of a M.A.D.D. member scorned:

Shut. Up.

How on EARTH do you figure you'll get a job working in ANY successful industry if you a) can't drink, b) can't network at parties and get-togethers, or c) have your head too far up your ass to notice that a) and b) are equally important in getting your networking skills up?

They say it's all about who you know. This is pure FACT.

To the teetotalers, then, I have but this to say.

Live your life, and we'll live ours. Just don't hate on us for what we do, or judge us for not living by your playbook.

On that slightly somber note, I'm off to ignore the self-righteous asshats, and enjoy Halloween night. Stay safe out there tonight, kids, and have FUN!

Best,
E.Y.H.

Post #6: Party Fouls 1

Hi folks!

After a rough night of Halloween-ing, all I have to say is this.

Party fouls are the ultimate anti-chill activity. I'll make a list of them later; this post is essentially to remind me that I was indeed party fouled, and must later rant and rave about the un-chillness of such an activity. Awesome. Or, not awesome. I'm miserable, but it's okay; I only exist as a non-corporeal entity for your grins and giggles, so I promise I'll be back in laugh-mode A.S.A.P. I promise. Until then, just chill out. I'll be back soon. I think. Or not. Who knows? Not the purple caterpillar, that's who DOESN'T KNOW.

I Googled "Purple Caterpillar," and I got this. It makes sense right now, I swear.

Anyway, lavender insect or not, that's it for me today world. Rest easy all, and have a good Halloween; hope yours goes better than mine!

Best,
E.Y.H.

Edit: It has been pointed out to me that I titled this Post #5, instead of Post #6. I blame Joose. That stuff is deadly.

Post #5: Cars

Good afternoon dear readers. Just kidding, you're not that dear to me. Just kidding again, you are; your pageviews keep my disgusting electronic ego alive, if only just. If you keep coming back, it's only to read my silly rants and raves.

Not that type of rave.

On that note though, here's today's rant/rave: cars.

"BUT WAIT E.Y.H.," you cry, "YOU'VE ALREADY DONE ONE ON CARS!!! WHAT WOULD CAUSE YOU TO BE REPETITIVE? HOW TRITE! HOW DULL! I'M GOING TO STOP READING YOUR BLOG RIGHT THE F*CK NOW, AND GO PICK MY NOSE WITH A PHILIPS HEAD SCREWDRIVER."

Except if it was a Philips head screwdriver, he would most likely not be laughing.

Well, you do that then. Meanwhile, as you gouge your gray matter out with a cold metal spike, I'm going to rant and rave more about cars.

After a rather nice car meet last night- during which my S14 was made to feel incredibly, incredibly pathetic- I decided to write on cars that I like. No, this won't be another post on the silliness of rich children in Riverside (like the bastard that drives a Nissan GT-R AND a Mercedes SL500 at my apartment complex, who I completely DO NOT ENVY. AT ALL. NOPE.), instead it will be a post on cars that I wish to own at some point in my life before the age of 30.

So, on to the list. Requirements for the list are a MSRP of under $25,000 (as of Oct. 29, 2009), decently fast, and no older than 1999. That said, let's name the first three... there may be more to come in the future, but for now, this is all you get:

1) Porsche 911 (996) Carrera 2/2S/4/4S


If the Porsche-howl at 5600 RPM fails to stir your soul and you call yourself a car guy, stop reading my blog. Right now. Leave. I reccomend another site. Like FatChicksInPartyHats, which I will refuse to link to in the interests of saving my soul; Google it if you will. That's probably the sort of thing you'd enjoy... you sick bastard.

No image of fat chicks in party hats provided. Instead, a cute bunny!

Moving on though, it's extremely reliable, mind bogglingly fast even in its lowest trim, has the aforementioned spine-shivering howl, and is perhaps the most enduring car design of all time. On the flip side, repairs will cost an arm an a leg should anything go even vaguely wrong, which it won't: it's a modern day water-cooled 911, and is thus bulletproof.

2) Pontiac GTO


A little boring on the outside? Unquestionably. It screams "fat Cavalier," which is never a good thing. But on the inside, the seemingly dull GTO rocks a 400 HP Chevrolet LS2 engine, lifted straight out of the C6 Corvette. Remember the howl that the Porsche makes? The Pontiac rumbles, grumbles, and THEN unleashes the V8 symphony. Top speed, as near as can be reckoned by Top Gear, 175 MPH, with a 0-60 of 4.6 seconds. That's frighteningly fast. Of course, the downside to this mind blowing power is that it turns like an elephant on roller skates, which is to say it slides with the quickness and grace of a three ton pachyderm. Then again, turning isn't the point of American muscle cars; it's about the straight line, standing quarter mile time. And that is clearly awesome.

3) Nissan 350Z

Now, ostensibly, the Z should be at the top. It has the best balance (though isn't the fastest) of any of the three cars, it's the most reliable, and the VQ35DE is one gorgeous engine. So then, why on earth isn't it at the top? Simple. Tuning.

I don't WANT to tune my car to make it top class. I admit, for a S14 driver, I'm lazy. If I can slap a CAI/Exhaust/Chip on a car and be done with it, that's just fine with me. A Z33 though, is, well, if I may be honest, an extremely bland and/or ugly car unless body modifications are done. In stock form, the front bumper ends too soon, the wheels are a bit dull, and unless it is lowered, it has the appearance of Cledus J. Smith's 4x4, in which he goes and has steamy inbred redneck-cousin loving and then tops it off by spraying Cheez Whiz all over his trailer park while running about in his boxers.

Cledus, for your Holiday Needs. Minus his 4x4 and the Cheez Whiz.

Moving back to the subject though, Z's are simply put, too much work, and I'm far too lazy to make a Z "truly" good. As much as I appreciate a nicely modded/tuned car, I don't have the time nor patience to do it myself. Therefore, I'd rather have the most capable car out of the factory possible... and that's not exactly what a Z delivers. Nevertheless though, it IS a very nice car, and based on its own virtues, it shores this list up at #3.

Anyway, that's it for me today. Maybe I'll continue this list someday, or maybe not; we shall see. For now, I'm off to the paradise that is my linguistics class.

Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrivederchi!

Best,
E.Y.H.

Post# 4- Watches

So, as I sit in Sociology discussion- where my TA has admitted that "over 90% of the department are avowed Marxists-" I find that blogging is a more worthy way to waste my time than listen to socialist, anti-American propaganda. What better way to fight the scourge of silly socialism than to begin my series on silly expensive things that I like? Nothing like good ol' conspicuous consumption to show those pinkos... I'm only being half facetious here, to be honest.

Regardless of the Red sentiments I might draw the ire of for this post, I'm here in the middle of a terrible recession to celebrate watches. I don't mean Timexes. I mean the best of the best; the most attractive, handcrafted, Swiss-made, precision engineered monstrosities in existence. Audemars Piquet, Patek Phillipe, Vacheron Constantin...One of these could feed a family of four for a month.

We starve for the sake of your horological fetishes!

Yes, perhaps it's a bit silly in a recession of epic proportions to aspire to own what are perhaps the most ludicrous symbols of excess short of a Ferrari; after all, traditional logic dictates that a watch is merely an accessory to tell time, and if I may be brutally honest, has been rendered functionally obsolete by the cell phone.

So then, why are watches still so dang cool? Elvis Mitchell from Esquire said it best: "If you consider yourself stylish, as opposed to fashionable, your wardrobe does require a dress watch." The watch is an anachronism, a relic of a forgotten era. Then again, so is chivalry, and that's still very much in style, to some degree.

Chivalry: still in style 1500 years later! Minus the swords and incest and such.

However, if you are a man that does not wear jeans that resemble tights, have three inch long earrings, or dress like a complete clown/hipster/trend follower, a decent watch should be an inherent part of your wardrobe. This isn't a suggestion, it's a statement. Obsolete though it may be, a proper mechanical (none of this quartz silliness) should be a well maintained, well cared for part of every self-respecting man's wardrobe. Yes they're pricey, yes they're silly, and yes you can most likely buy a cheap car for the cost of one of the better mechanical watches out there. However, be it a product of commercialized culture or not, a watch is a sign of a well heeled man.

Not a well-heeled man, by any stretch of the word.

On that note, my current fascination is the Audemars Piquet Royal Oak, which my friends inform me is a silly watch at a silly price. I don't care. It is handmade by Swiss elves, is more complex than differential calculus, and looks more beautiful than Beyoncé. Here's to conspicuous consumption, friends.

Fascinating.

Let's have three cheers for capitalism.

Best,
E.Y.H.