A Collection of Unrelated Paragraphs Thrown Together at the Last Minute Because I Realized I Didn’t Have a Column to Publish this Week

Chaos in Print

I was once told that the joke behind the classic comic book Stone Henge was the creator wanted to create a superhero whose entire origin was told on the cover of the first issue. The joke behind this column is the entire summary is the title.

It’s not that I have writer’s block. It’s that I don’t feel like writing. All my writing energy right now is being spent at school. Writing scripts for commercials, writing proposals for clients, writing news stories, writing reports about how to make my show better, writing my stop sets. Yes, writing my stop sets. My announcing instructor is very fond of having us script everything. For those who don’t know, a “stop set” is that break on the radio where the music stops and the DJ does his announcing. My instructor actually wants me to spend the 10 minutes when the music’s playing writing out, “The Tractors on NR92. I’m Mark Cappis. It’s 9:10 and -5 outside. Now I have to say something interesting here to entice you to keep listening. Aerosmith is coming up next.” My instructor’s logic is if we write down what we want to say, then we can spend all our time focusing on the delivery. I agree with that, but I’ve always been of the mind that jotting down point form notes about what you want to say is just as good. There’s no need to write out every single sentence. At least, that’s just my way of doing things, which won me a wallful of plaques from high school speech competitions. But that’s just me.

The longest title for a Star Trek episode is For the World is Hollow and I Have Touched the Sky.

I’m currently watching a TV ad for the Karcher pressure washer. You know these. These are the high-powered water guns that are used to wash stuff. Things like that blow my mind. Same with Super Soaker water guns. Way back in 1990, when environmentalism was the fad, I read the statistic that if all the water in the world was in a 4L jug, then the freshwater we drink would be a single drop. If that’s the case, WHY THE HELL ARE WE WASTING ALL OUR FRESHWATER TO CLEAN GUNK OFF OUR SHOVELS AND RUN AROUND OUR BACKYARD SHOOTING EACH OTHER? Riddle me that.

I always wanted to write a column about how, at the dawn of 1990s, environmentalism was the cause of the day. Suddenly, everything had to be made recyclable. Everything had to be environmentally friendly. People looked up and suddenly saw a hole in the ozone layer. But now, people really don’t care any more. Why? I wanted to title it What Ever Happened to Environmentalism?

I have a brilliant idea for a column right now, but I’m too exhausted to write it. I recently ran for NAIT’s student association presidency. I lost. But, in my little endeavour, I noticed flaws in NAIT’s election system. I want to make the push for election reform. I even have the first sentence in mind. “The administration doesn’t listen to us! I want to lower student fees! It’s time for a change! Oh. Hello. You interrupted me. I was practicing my speech for next year’s student elections. Once the election got underway, and I heard the speeches of my fellow candidates, I remembered what a joke student politics are. I was an ardent follower of student politics my first time through university. And now, five years later and at a different school, all the speeches are exactly the same. The administration doesn’t listen to us! I want to lower student fees! It’s time for a change!”

Real world, my ass. Nothing pisses off my instructors more like when I point out that we’re not in the real world. “Yeah, but, we run things like in the real world,” is their constant defence. I shoot back, “In the real world, we’d be working one job in one department. You have us working every job in every department.” But I usually shoot that back after they’re well out of earshot because that’s when I remember to say it. Real world, my ass.

Several of my instructors do freelance work on the side. One of them has started doing PSAs for the Edmonton Realtors Association. Every night at around 7, right after the news, there’s my instructor, on TV, telling me it’s a good time to sell my house. It was cute the first couple of times, but now every time one of his spots come on, I find myself screaming at the TV, “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! I’M AT HOME! I’M RELAXING! I DON’T WANT TO DO SCHOOLWORK!” Then I change the channel.

I’ve forgotten the brilliant paragraph I was going to write here. I’m going to get a drink of water.

The most hated class is promotions, which is too bad, because I think it could be a lot of fun if given a chance. For those not in the know, “promotions” is the department of the radio station that runs contests, puts on events, and essentially does everything responsible for getting the word out about the station. I think the main reason why it’s hated so much is because the whole course revolves around a semester-long group project, and after the second week, we start hating everyone in our group. In fact, I have an idea for a promotion that I’m hoping my instructor will let me do on my own next semester. I enjoy playing “Weird Al” Yankovic on my show. Weird Al made a movie. NAIT has a movie theatre on campus. I want to have a screening of UHF and give away tickets on my show.

Oh, almost remembered the brilliant paragraph. It’s gone again. They figure that within two years there’ll be a fourth Law & Order show.

I want to try an experiment. Kevin Smith’s new film is being described as a “chick flick.” Naturally, I want to see it with a “chick.” So, in NAIT’s student paper, I’m thinking about slipping in this: “Hey! I don’t suppose there are any young women out there who want to go see Jersey Girl? As much as I love Kevin Smith, I feel weird seeing chick flicks by myself. Any interest parties should e-mail me at (e-mail address.)” I should do it, just to see what happens.

The sad thing is, that was the brilliant paragraph.

I got my two pages. And I’m spent.

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