Cars and Me

By: Michael Lenoch

IN CASE YOU'VE NEVER MET ME, my personality can be summed up, rather simply as "savvy".

The word "car" was the first I uttered. My room was, and still is filled with cars - in the form of posters, marque logos, Hotwheels and Matchbox cars, 1:24 and 1:18 scale models, and many a Road & Track magazine - so much so that you may as well call me "obsessed". Well, quite frankly I am. I just don't entirely realize this because I've lead a life so consistently in love with cars, that I sense no palpable gap from when I "couldn't give a care" to when "my life was centered around them". I've had a sustainable passion ever since I rolled around with my Hotwheels on the carpet.

And now, as a new eighteen-year-old, and as an owner of a 1998 BMW 328i, I have come to an even greater appreciation of the craftsmanship and level of engineering that goes into manufacturing these sporty and well-balanced cars.

So as a lover of speed, and a proponent of solid handling, good looks, and a plain-old-mean ride, I ran into some hot water when one of my life-long friends, who claims to be an auto enthusiast as well (but we all know he is far less as savvy as I am in every way), recently got a Buick. Buicks are "nice", in that sort of old-person's car way. They may be charming, reliable, and economical, but they offer absolutely nothing that pleases the senses. My friend's car, the Le Sabre, is a hideously sketched old-person's car. When he first shared with me that he got a car, he felt the need to tell me that it has a "3.8 V6 engine", for which means virtually nothing in this realm, where superchargers, turbochargers, and V12 engines have made their millions. Besides the utterly bland appearance of the car... oh wait, there's no "good news" to this whole pile of "bad news". I mean, certainly, I could have been nice and brought up the good news first, but the thing is, there is no "GOOD NEWS".

Here is an image of the car my friend has recently bought, and mind you, he is my age, which is the most disappointing part about this whole story. If you look at this overly-glamorized picture of an otherwise God-awful car [in an attempt to make it look like a Bentley?] there is absolutely nothing attractive about it. When you walk away from the parking spot of a good-looking car, it gives you a shy look, the same one that the girl you had a crush on did to you during grade school. But with a car like that, I for one would hold my head in my hands, desperately hoping for the misery to stop. But it doesn't. Oh no, I've just started. The car has no redeemable qualities other than its relatively cheap insurance rates. But that's like saying I would drive a piece of shit to school just because it's cheap. Oh wait no, that is saying "I would drive a piece of shit to school just because it's cheap." I see now. But I don't. You see, Buicks, all of them, except for the legendary Buick GNX have no inclining, no slight hint that they have a heritage of racing, sportiness, or for that matter, quality. All of their cars ever since the GNX have been dung. And although they are increasing their quality today, they still represent a business model of "catching up" on what proves to be successfully implemented risks taken by other manufacturers. They are as conservative and boring as their cars.

As a fellow teenager, what I don't understand is why can't you get something relatively sporty? There are plenty of options. Why can't you get a Ford Focus, or even better, a Volkswagen Golf, Golf GTI, Polo, or Rabbit. Honestly, if your primary concern is insurance rates, then why don't you at least get a Goddamn hatchback?! Some people... Some people make the least logical choices in life, and will hate you if you call them out for them. By getting a Buick as your first car, you no longer deserve to call yourself an "auto enthusiast". This is a shame to me, to the American car industry, the hobby, passion, and love for all things cars, driving, and this is a shame to humanity!

My Head is Not Working

Someone tell the doctor. My head is not working,

I yawn and yawn all day until my cheeks have stretched themselves silly,

My eyes tear after this strenuous activity,

And I lack much of any ability to focus or concentrate,

As of now, I am scatter-brained to the fullest, and sane to the least,

I do though have a stringent desire to do well, to create and think in my less than ideal state,

But whenever I make any attempt, my efforts prove fruitless.

It is a tragedy.

When the thinking man wants to think, he is tired.

But when the thinking man has already thought, or allowed his thoughts to pass, he partakes in more mindless, dare I say "mortal", "hedonistic" activities that only mere humans would consider enjoyable, and academics would consider "bourgeois".

Now after committing this nonsensical expression to blog format, I am somewhat content.

At least more content than I was a few minutes prior.

Now, I think I should heed my body's way of saying "you're tired, go to sleep!"

A Personal Flaw

Whenever I write, a paper for school, a journal entry, or a blog hosted right here or on Bitmob.com, or on 1up.com, I typically will congratulate myself. This is to my detriment as a writer because while it's all well and good to feel confident in myself as a writer, I need to be steadfast, constantlly striving, never satisfied and always working perpetually to a static goal of an asymntotally flawless piece, article, entry, or blog.

Homecoming 2010

Homecoming this year was a refreshing one. I came with a date that I am actually rather fond of, and as for all of the otherwise awkward customs – corsage, pictures, dinner, the dance itself, and the after party – they went exceedingly well. Yet for all intents and purposes, I could very vaguely label the dance as “fun”, it certainly wasn't anywhere near ideal. The music was by-the-numbers, mainstream, top-10 garbage that had largely been recycled from last year’s dance. The Black Eyed Peas’ “I Gotta Feeling” had all the attendants jumping for joy, and singing along to the anthem’s ubiquitous lyrics. Only for me, as a senior, it could have very well been the third dance at Saint Ignatius that featured such a track, so inevitably, the song’s explosiveness was mitigated by a power of ten for me. I emptily gestured as if I was filled with the energy that the music typically will infuse in its listeners, exhaustedly sang along, and motioned to be conscious during the annoying words that continue to echo through the drums of my ears as of this writing. I understand many a freshman had their first dance that night, but I think sometimes school dances are better served searching for more indie, less widely-known music, chosen for its quality, rather than its recognition or notoriety.

I want to go to college

By: Michael Lenoch

I want my college decision to be a good one,

For this life-changing choice to be made with a degree of seriousness,

I will therefore decide on a number of principles and ideals;

I want a challenge,

I want the average student to be more intelligent than me,

I want to grow, and learn from my peers,

I want to be social, and on the same level as my peers,

I want to progress myself,

I want to use my peers to build my horizons, and wish they do the same to me,

I want to strive to be better, continually,

I want to propel myself, ever thirsty for more knowledge; hungry for more answers,

I want to establish a degree of camaraderie,

I want an environment that supports both play and study,

I want to get along, be a part, be someone’s friend,

I want to challenge my mind and body; mentally and physically,

I want to join clubs, intramurals, and possibly sports,

I want to be involved in the community,

I want to attend mass as a group regularly,

I want friends who support me for doing so, and accept me for who I am,

I want to be greeted by smiles, and to smile back,

I want lazy days with hot chocolate in the winter, and I want vibrant summer days in which we all go outside and play,

I want to be comfortable, but more often than not, uncomfortable, forced to grow,

I want programs that interest me, and ones that can further shape me as a person,

I want classes that deepen my ability to analyze,

To write, and think,

I want to go to college.

Psychological Tidbit

In the same way we are instructed to re-think the way we define the parameters by which individuals are defined as "disabled", or "sick", or "different", we should assign equal emphasis in promoting the effort of re-defining our fundamental understanding of intelligence. College professors and educators in higher forms of learning tend to be rather rigid in their definition of "intelligence", and should therefore be responsible for the widening of the modern child's currently consolidated imagination and level of creativity. Intelligence refers to one's ability to think in a multitude of conditions, to draw connections from one object to another, and to always be steadfastly thirsty for knowledge.

The Average Sunday Afternoon

While Jessica types until her bone wears away, I feel a sense of jealously coming on, and decide to write something for my blog. Jessica chats over the phone with my father, stressing about her homework to no end as I indulge in a therapeutic web surf, consuming all the media I missed out on during the arduous schoolweek. I act this way almost as if to completely contradict Jessica’s hive-minded, horse-blinders, lab-mouse mentality, so I can step back and laugh at her ridiculously intense level scrupulousness. I do this though, at the risk of my reputation to her and my potential bed time. See by not investing myself at every minute of every possible morsel of free time, I can appear, although maybe only marginally, lazy. But I don’t care. Also, by expending as little energy as possible by procrastinating and not doing my homework until the last minutes of Sunday’s schoolnight, I risk going to bed at a significantly later time, if not date, however less significantly for the latter. While writing this, I contemplate the fact that I had slept for a good two hours or so prior to this writing. I say “Hmm” to my self, not fazed one bit. I look over as Jessica checks Facebook. Not as scrupulous as I once suspected, sister. The truth comes out! I uncharacteristically turn up my iTunes volume level to compensate for her IQ-depleting talk with friend, Grace. I move on, and groove out.

Hippies, What Can You do about Them?

LAUGH AT THEM!

Alas! I Return for Yet Another Critique!

It's been sometime, and I have even gone on the record for saying that I would pursue to create my own website as opposed to reverting to this mere blog. Yet such a task still has not been completed.

So I come to you, loyal fans, with a brief critique: YouTube. It is home to countless morons, hedons, and downright less-than-scrupulous people. With usernames including symbolistic digits such as, "420", or "69", the comments on the video sharing website are inevitably and unavoidably negative. Always claiming one music artist is superior to another, or divulging into irrelevant and uncalled for political, societal, and racist debate and commentary, YouTube commentors are a violent breed.

As is true with all forms of art, there is absolutely no way to please all potential consumers of a given art form, other than to not bother with creating the art in the first place, and letting people get on with their needlessly and perpetually busy lifestyles. So in short, there is no ubiquitous pleasing of the entire volatile YouTube community. We know for certain that there will always be people there to tell you that you suck, you "fail", you "fail at life", or to more shamelessly, to go "kill yourself". I feel YouTube embodies a virtual space for anonymous public commentary.

Early in the world wide web's infancy, there were charming, little forums in which nearly every member would take the time to explain a detail or a solution to a problem in ostensibly any given hobby's respective message board. Back then, web users never heard of "griefing", or the act of making another user's experience less than ideal, whether that means it takes place in the form of negative comments, "thumbs" down, poor reviews, or other types of internet user-to-user sabotage. Today, whether you're aware of it or not, this is an unfortunate reality of the average person's anonymous internet behavior. It's nigh impossible to join a web forum today without at least at some point encountering a jerk, never receiving a negative comment review, or a "thumbs down" in one form or another.

So, this begs the question, why do people behave this way? Simply put, it's the sense of anonymity the average internet user feels when he or she leaves a comment. Theoretically, a user can leave the deepest, most scarring insult on a contributor's YouTube video, and forget that he or she even did so. When we make verbal mistakes in person, though, even slight name mess-ups, we remember them for weeks afterward. It's clear people perceive the internet as a netherland, a virtual place where nothing so much matters, because anything can happen. Hypothetically, Google, Twitter, YouTube, Myspace, Facebook, Yahoo, and any other major website could all crash by the skill of a single hacker, and the quickness of his or her mouse. Anything can happen on this internet, and for the most part, the unexpected happens.

The Sign of a New Era

AH, SUBCULTURAL.BLOGSPOT.COM,
You have been good to me, providing a valuable platform to showcase my opinions and ideas for the past two years or so now. Yet it is worth saying that you boast some ungainly un-capabilities, such as, the inability the copy and paste text to post on the blog. You also do not offer the ability for users to post music from say, their soundcloud accounts, or to sync their Facebook accounts with their blogspot ones so that Facebook friends are alerted whenever a new Blogspot entry is added.

So with all the Twitters, those YouTubes, and them Facebooks, Blogspot.com has miserably fell behind the pack of modern blogging tools, and now is a horrible shadow of its once-glorious self that has primative monetizing, writing, and media tools that in my mind, no longer serve to adequately present information and media in a suitably contemporary fashion. I'm sorry Blogspot.com, but we can still be friends, right?

Well now that that's over, I guess I'll start a website of my own! Yep, I've been bored lately, and could desperately go for a challenge (that's not school-related), so what could be more challenging than web design? Now here's what seems to be an even greater challenge at the moment; coming up with a URL domain name!

Now what on earth do I christen my excursion into website mayhem? I'm thinking something lasting, easy-to-spell (to avoid confusion), non-embarrassing, non-German, [my] name, nor video game related. Well if you have any suggesstions, post them in the comments box, and I'm also hoping for a URL name that has .COM available to maximize visitors.

Cheers!