Read the other posts.

I'm serious. I know you all got tired of reading from the SmartChild thing, but there's one below it that isn't that bad of a read. I mean, it involves a ninja for Pete's sake. So read them. Comment. Make me feel like you don't all hate me.

*Edited since original post*

Since so many of you thought it was super lame, I hate you. But, I give in. I've edited it down to just the few most important lines so thaHere is the edited version of this last post:

If any of you remember SmarterChild, the AIM buddy with nothin' to say, I got really bored before class one day (4 years ago) and decided to talk to him. Bad idea.

PacmanDave: well
SmarterChild: This is SmarterChild, built by
ActiveBuddy, Inc.
Well well well.
PacmanDave: well well well
SmarterChild: Well well well, you say?
{edited content}
PacmanDave: Later Alligator.
SmarterChild: OK.

I actually turned this in

Believe it or not, this is a paper I wrote--and recieve and A on--for a college course. I put it on my friend's web page the week I wrote it, making my first official blog post February of 2oo2. You nerds are soooo behind. My favorite parts are the horrible run-on sentences that I just didn't bother to edit. I told the teacher they helped to give a proper feel for the music that was being performed at the time. I think he bought it. Anyway, without further adieu, Ethos.

Dave LaGory
February 15th, 2002
Prof. Holleman

Ethos: kicking my ass in the popularity contest

I suppose I should have taken the group's name as an omen; in so many words, the ethos concert was a religious experience for me. I've always been a huge fan off highly organized yet off-the-wall percussion. If there was one thing I could wish for in this world before I die, it'd probably be something typical like a wife and kids, a good family, all that jazz. If there were two, the second would probably be enough money to live comfortably with said family. However, given three wishes, I would definitely wish for the ability to bust out those funky rhythms in similar manner to those awesome men we reverently call "Ethos."

The execution of their line-up was perfect. Their opening number was just enough to give you a teasing taste of what they could do, without making you strain to pick out each different instrument. They kept the audience on the edge of their seats, searching in vain for the meter structure that was right under their noses. Highly organized and yet not completely full of thumps, thwaks, and other various percussion noises, it got me in the mood to do some serious ninja-style killing. Oh yes, I mean blood thirsty psycho, running from seat to seat running the blood from countless victims down the aisle as I let the light catch my katana blade between stealthy thrusts and slashes in perfect synch with the beat. The only thing that kept me from doing just that was the suspense of what crazy rhythm they would produce next and a total lack of Katanas. Without any use of chords to create tension, they manipulated the rhythm itself to catch the audience in their web of percussive insanity.

Lucky for Dan Coughlin and Matthew Boehringer, the two saps sitting next to me, Ethos next number was the perfect foil to the first. I was soon calmed of my incandescent rage as I was soothed by the sweet sounds of the marimba. What a beautiful piece this was! If anything ever inspired me to do yoga, this song was it. I'm lucky I didn't fall asleep during it (unlike Matt, who will probably deny it if you ask him). Little can be said to describe this song, it was so simple, melodic, and tranquil. I could probably throw in a whole bunch of music terms at this point and try to impress you or get a nice juicy grade, but let's be honest. There's nothing I could say that you don't already know, and I'm lazy. Moving on, I'll get right to the point: Break it Down. Holy Geez, if only these men would move in with me. Talk about a sweet percussion line! The one dude down in front, playing those two Indian drums, showed some serious skill. Though not overly noticeable, he would bend the pitch of the larger drum as he tapped out eve more groovin' beats on the small drum, making a pseudo-melody for the drums. I must say it was very impressive. The meter of this piece was simply stupefying; it was so cool and complex it honestly made me feel stupid. I couldn't figure it out for the life of me. To have two to three drums playing what seemed like completely different meters, and yet somehow fitting, all at the same time, well that just about made me soil myself. The finish was a nice touch; bringing the piece all together with a little Western drum set just made my day.

The next half of the show was a totally different flavor from the first. With less emphasis on the drumming itself, the choir did quite an excellent job with the African/Latin mass thing they had going on. Delicious harmonies and movement definitely made the music come alive to the droning of the bongos and other such percussive toys Ethos bore. The solos were well executed, and seldom drowned out. The only drawback I could find was the emphasis shifting from the driving beats of Ethos to the vocal music of the choir; it was almost anti-climactic. It just makes me wonder, though, how much more splendid the choral piece would have been if it were performed prior to "Break it Down"...

Whoa, I almost forgot. Before I leave you with this meager attempt at a critical review, I have to add that the man who put Ethos together, what's-his-face, he absolutely rocks at the triangle. There are few men on the face of this earth who will ever outshine his triangle solo. Seriously.

---------------------------------

Yeah, I acutally referred to a man as "what's-his-face," and didn't get docked points. This rivals the paper I wrote for philosophy and got writer's block so bad the only cure was several Cape Codders. And Spell check. Oh thank goodness for spell check.

Ingenuity at its Finest

When the world's best and brightest collaborate, they occasionally come up with something that's just absolutely fantastic. And I bet a lot of you are going to click on that link and then get all pissed off that I think it just happens to be a modern marvel of advanced society, but whatever. Leave your comment and we can hash that out in another post. But what I'm referring to, quite fittingly, is a law that was put together in Tennessee. Swap out one e for one s, and you got a ripe recipe for Tenseness, which is what I feel when I read about this new law. Not a tenseness of fear or anxiety, but of... I take that back. Anxiety sounds pretty good. Anxiety of the marvels to come from this obvious brilliance. I mean, a "Crack Tax"? A tax on things that aren't even legal? Holy crap. Brilliance. Genius. Other smart-sounding word. Screw making anything legal, they figured it out: make it even more illegal, and then give the ol' Double-edged sword of black marketeering! Take that, drug lords! The big draw to that fashion of lifestyle has to be the tax-free living. I mean, it sure sounds nice to me. But not anymore! Drug trafficing in Tennessee has just become equivalent to peeing in the wind: Sure, may feel great when you get that release, but no one feels great when there's piss on their shirt. And shoes. Man, it sucks when you get pee on your shoes.
I need to get new shoes. Luckily, it has nothing to do with urine. Except that after a long rousing game of raquetball, my feet smell. Rank. But still, not quite like urine.
Crack Tax. Any tax called the "crack tax" gets my vote. Maybe they were on it when they made it? That's the only way I could see any lawmaker coming up with that one and not first thinking to himself, "Wow, what a huge double standard. I'd have to be a tard to put this down on paper." Speaking of, as about half of you know, I once had written an introduction to a movie that made Shakespeare just look like some dude who breathed heavy. Well, after a freak harddrive crash, I lost that and 3 years worth of data. Well, miraculously, I was able to resurrect that drive long enough to get it all back. Well, I guess I'll start another sentence with the word "well." And that movie? Still hilarious. Still in the works. And trust me, this opening scene to this day makes me wet myself.
There I go again with the urine...

Drink from the Chalice

I have a new person to add to my list of friends, and more importantly, my list of friends that like Guitar Hero. Just thought I'd point that part out real quick-like.
And a side-note, I've had a few drinks before writing this post. And by few I mean like 4-5 euivalently. I'm top-nptch in motor skills, it just means my thought process is gone. Which is usually the case anyway. Only, in addition to that, I'm about to go to bed, meaning I'm tired, which in turn means that this post is going to take twice as long since I have to think about what my fingers are doing, which again means mostly typing typos. And run-on sentences like that will occur since I'm concentrating so hard on trying to get the right keys pressed without looking. In fact, from here on out, I will ne doing this poost with my eyes shut. Because I've bneen drinking. Rock on my. Or, rather, I r0xx0r.
Dang you, side-onte! Upi kist ,ade ,e fprget wjat ,y emtre [pst was anpit amyway!
So, I cheated. I opened my eyes. Wow. My fingers were off by one key, and suddenly it's WWII code all over again. Any one who got that without thinking too hard gets a cookie. From Shannon. Fresh baked, too. She promised. So, see ya.

I just wanted to leave another happy post. And then Captain Long Island Iced Tea was all like, hey, ramble. Ramble on. That's what Daddy likes. Well Daddy was wrong.

Call me mommy.