help!
This is a public cry...I need to think up a plot for my one act play by next week.
I have three choices I want to do and I need your help, oh awesome readers of my blog!
okay number 1:
four characters sit around in the Reagan Cafe on the 5th year after september 11th. The main character, Miss America...is trying to explain how it wasn't Osama that did it, but the United States used it to replenish the economy (though that doesn't seem the case now, it's a play) and I would fill it with good time political liberal bullshit...I already started to write it actually. It's pretty good.
Here's a sample:
Narrator: We got drunk that night, the fifth anniversary of September 11th. We weren’t celebrating anything, if anything the bar we were at was celebrating something, with balloons and streamers and some patriotic beer. Everyone was there, well everyone we knew and they were all drinking this dyed beer, sort of like the Irish green beer for St. Patrick’s day. The cocktail napkins had little 11’s on them in the shape of the twin towers. I hadn’t forgotten what the twin towers were or what they looked like, if anything they were more prevalent than ever. It seems that every bar, restaurant, pet shop, deli…everyone had a small framed portrait of the two beautiful twins behind the counter. It reminded me a little of the portraits of Mao around China, a large dictating picture with massive appeal that made you want to weep or fight against something. But there we were…in the Reagan Café, around a small high table…with a celebration we were confused about.
Choice 2: I call it "A Second Chance"...a woman is still in love with the man she dated a long time ago but all her friends think he's a total asshole. Her job is the make everyone see that she's right by realizing her faults as a person. In the end, I think she's right all along because he's an ass, but I just want people to see that what you say about one person may not be what you want other people to think about them. Yeah, it sounds like a romantic comedy, but it could have some good "Full House" moments, complete with sappy music.
Choice 3: I battle Annie Viller. Emily Sauter, the playwright...goes head to head with her alter ego in an attempt to regain her life from her inner reality. Characters would include: Annie, Annie's newest thing sexy Colonel Haven Havermeyer of the Irishian (don't ask) forces until excommunicated from his troops by the queen. I don't know who would back me up, maybe Johnny Garrison (yeah like he would back me up that fool, I don't want him in my play), Annie does have a lot of dirt on me. The play would be able not being able to kill something that is so apart of you even though technically, Annie isn't real.
So there we are, three play choices that I am considering. Please help me...I have a monologue due in a week.
Thank you,
Emily
Wednesday, February 05, 2003
Sunday, February 02, 2003
Der West Point or "How the Other Half Lives"
My goal last night was to act as Republican as possible. I did a lot of things I'm not proud of...smiled and thanked the dean of West Point for this great honor of attending this function, toasted the President of the United States in a West Point wine glass, and...for the first time in my life...wore make up. I'm not talking gloss and blush...I'm talkin the whole nine yards. I looked like a texas beauty queen. And while looking in the mirror in the bathroom while eavsdropping on blonde army whores, I got the first good look at myself. My hair was pulled up with blonde curls extending down my face, my make up was applied flawlessly, and my dress was shimmering in the bad bathroom lighting. I looked like just another Army whore in a ladies room reapplying my make up I had bought at the Clinque counter in Macys (let's just say I spent so much money, they gave me a free umbrella and wished me luck while I signed on the expensive dotted line). In the morning, I sat in a row of white republican women all getting manicures, and it made me feel like one of them. I look now at my shining glossy fingertips and think to myself, "Now the real Emily would be against this." But there was something elegant about yesterday that made me realize that maybe I had chosen the wrong path for myself...yes the dirt poor liberal life seemed so grand and wonderful for me, but what about the "other side?" I could get used to dropped 140 bucks at the clinque counter, smiling while i was lead into a ball where all these beautiful women were, wearing expensive dresses and pounds of make up. I have come to terms that in a month's time, I will be 20 and with being 20 comes the idea that maybe it's high time I put the childhood behind me and grow up. Being a woman in America is harder than it looks. And I want to know if I have what it takes to be a "face in the crowd."
West Point at night looks like a concentration camp. "der west point" with the bright lights streaming on you, the wet stone walls of the barracks, the grey on grey on grey atmosphere, the shrill yell of the loudspeaker. I almost caught myself looking for the creamatorium. It's not a happy place to be and I have the feeling that I think I should never go back there again. I say that, but this time I mean it. I'm through with my West Point fascination. The military is no place for Emily Sauter.
I finally saw Maggie in person for the first time. I didn't meet her because I didn't really want to. But I saw her...she's a dainty creature, bland...doesn't seem like she has character. She seems to be the silent American woman...someone Alex can say "That's my girl" to while she cooks dinner and has his children. And good for him, he deserves a pushover like that. We exchanged an awkward conversation. He got new glasses...retro 60's style that make him look like an astronaut. It wasn't nice to see him, there's nothing new about him but a glow of sexual gratification that was disturbing to me.
It makes me sad that when I sat in a room with all these stern identical faces...that these men were the future of America. I couldn't get past the fact that all these boys were going to running our country, getting my tax dollars. I also used the phrase, "When I run for office..." in conversation. I could never run for any office. You hear of an elected official from Bard College? And me, I can't keep my mouth shut about anything.
Now, as I dread going back to Bard where homework and an angry boyfriend await me (well I don't blame him, I'm angry at myself too)...I can't help to think about beautifying myself...letting loose my primitive girlhood and submitting into womanhood. I could be just as attractive as those army whores in the bathroom...as bland as Maggie...as enchanting as the Dean's wife who told me she loved my name, they have a daughter named Emily as well...as horrific and as stupid as the girls on "girls gone wild."
I could be the American girl.
But, with all i've gone through this weekend...would it be worth it?
My goal last night was to act as Republican as possible. I did a lot of things I'm not proud of...smiled and thanked the dean of West Point for this great honor of attending this function, toasted the President of the United States in a West Point wine glass, and...for the first time in my life...wore make up. I'm not talking gloss and blush...I'm talkin the whole nine yards. I looked like a texas beauty queen. And while looking in the mirror in the bathroom while eavsdropping on blonde army whores, I got the first good look at myself. My hair was pulled up with blonde curls extending down my face, my make up was applied flawlessly, and my dress was shimmering in the bad bathroom lighting. I looked like just another Army whore in a ladies room reapplying my make up I had bought at the Clinque counter in Macys (let's just say I spent so much money, they gave me a free umbrella and wished me luck while I signed on the expensive dotted line). In the morning, I sat in a row of white republican women all getting manicures, and it made me feel like one of them. I look now at my shining glossy fingertips and think to myself, "Now the real Emily would be against this." But there was something elegant about yesterday that made me realize that maybe I had chosen the wrong path for myself...yes the dirt poor liberal life seemed so grand and wonderful for me, but what about the "other side?" I could get used to dropped 140 bucks at the clinque counter, smiling while i was lead into a ball where all these beautiful women were, wearing expensive dresses and pounds of make up. I have come to terms that in a month's time, I will be 20 and with being 20 comes the idea that maybe it's high time I put the childhood behind me and grow up. Being a woman in America is harder than it looks. And I want to know if I have what it takes to be a "face in the crowd."
West Point at night looks like a concentration camp. "der west point" with the bright lights streaming on you, the wet stone walls of the barracks, the grey on grey on grey atmosphere, the shrill yell of the loudspeaker. I almost caught myself looking for the creamatorium. It's not a happy place to be and I have the feeling that I think I should never go back there again. I say that, but this time I mean it. I'm through with my West Point fascination. The military is no place for Emily Sauter.
I finally saw Maggie in person for the first time. I didn't meet her because I didn't really want to. But I saw her...she's a dainty creature, bland...doesn't seem like she has character. She seems to be the silent American woman...someone Alex can say "That's my girl" to while she cooks dinner and has his children. And good for him, he deserves a pushover like that. We exchanged an awkward conversation. He got new glasses...retro 60's style that make him look like an astronaut. It wasn't nice to see him, there's nothing new about him but a glow of sexual gratification that was disturbing to me.
It makes me sad that when I sat in a room with all these stern identical faces...that these men were the future of America. I couldn't get past the fact that all these boys were going to running our country, getting my tax dollars. I also used the phrase, "When I run for office..." in conversation. I could never run for any office. You hear of an elected official from Bard College? And me, I can't keep my mouth shut about anything.
Now, as I dread going back to Bard where homework and an angry boyfriend await me (well I don't blame him, I'm angry at myself too)...I can't help to think about beautifying myself...letting loose my primitive girlhood and submitting into womanhood. I could be just as attractive as those army whores in the bathroom...as bland as Maggie...as enchanting as the Dean's wife who told me she loved my name, they have a daughter named Emily as well...as horrific and as stupid as the girls on "girls gone wild."
I could be the American girl.
But, with all i've gone through this weekend...would it be worth it?
Friday, January 31, 2003
wheels out in wheelchair wearing a dunce hat and swinging a cat
"I'm Emily and I'm the biggest idiot ever..."
Look, I'll be honest with you people because I care about the people who read this (well, MOST of the people who read this) and I think it's good to be honest and nothing beats honesty unless honesty beats you first...whatever that means.
So anyway, it happened over break with a man by the name of Colin Brady Donegan. And see, the thing is that he has a girlfriend (and not a fine one, may I add...) and Colin and I have a history...a history of quiet sexual banter, disturbing staring contests, sexual frustration stemming back a good six years. We are friends now and he's a really nice guy, college has really mellowed him out. But we still have all this sexual frustration and since we wanted to be friends, we decided that we had to "get it out of the way" so it wouldn't happen again. Okay, you can tell me I was stupid in doing that, and maybe I did it for a stupid reason. It kills me why I actually did it. Because I thought that since I'm dating Braden, I'm not going to be able to see unbridled lust and passion for a long time so I thought I should get all the ideas out of my head. I pictured my relationship for the first time with Braden as going down a long dark path where I wouldn't be able to be free again. You certainly shouldn't date someone if you believe dating them is like throwing yourself off the plank into shark infested waters.
After Colin's three minutes of "we shouldn't be doing this" ended...my brain began to think, "is Braden what I really want" or do I want to float from man to man like I did back in the day...and if ever getting a boyfriend, I would immediatly cheat on him. I should have learned my lesson in the Delta High School parking lot that it's not okay to cheat on your boyfriend but getting threatened didn't even stop me.
From someone with a fear of intimacy...how can I continue this reckless path!
I told Braden last night everything I'm telling you all now. And all I know is that I don't know anything. I am the biggest idiot ever.
So this weekend, when I watch Alex and his gun totin' gal smile in each other's arms...I'm going to shed some tears, because it seems that everyone can find happiness (even jerks like Alex) while I could find happiness but I keep fucking it up. I care about Braden, but it seems that I would rather have the path of the 2nd rate whore than to be the girlfriend of one of the smarest and most adorable boys I know.
"I'm Emily and I'm the biggest idiot ever..."
Look, I'll be honest with you people because I care about the people who read this (well, MOST of the people who read this) and I think it's good to be honest and nothing beats honesty unless honesty beats you first...whatever that means.
So anyway, it happened over break with a man by the name of Colin Brady Donegan. And see, the thing is that he has a girlfriend (and not a fine one, may I add...) and Colin and I have a history...a history of quiet sexual banter, disturbing staring contests, sexual frustration stemming back a good six years. We are friends now and he's a really nice guy, college has really mellowed him out. But we still have all this sexual frustration and since we wanted to be friends, we decided that we had to "get it out of the way" so it wouldn't happen again. Okay, you can tell me I was stupid in doing that, and maybe I did it for a stupid reason. It kills me why I actually did it. Because I thought that since I'm dating Braden, I'm not going to be able to see unbridled lust and passion for a long time so I thought I should get all the ideas out of my head. I pictured my relationship for the first time with Braden as going down a long dark path where I wouldn't be able to be free again. You certainly shouldn't date someone if you believe dating them is like throwing yourself off the plank into shark infested waters.
After Colin's three minutes of "we shouldn't be doing this" ended...my brain began to think, "is Braden what I really want" or do I want to float from man to man like I did back in the day...and if ever getting a boyfriend, I would immediatly cheat on him. I should have learned my lesson in the Delta High School parking lot that it's not okay to cheat on your boyfriend but getting threatened didn't even stop me.
From someone with a fear of intimacy...how can I continue this reckless path!
I told Braden last night everything I'm telling you all now. And all I know is that I don't know anything. I am the biggest idiot ever.
So this weekend, when I watch Alex and his gun totin' gal smile in each other's arms...I'm going to shed some tears, because it seems that everyone can find happiness (even jerks like Alex) while I could find happiness but I keep fucking it up. I care about Braden, but it seems that I would rather have the path of the 2nd rate whore than to be the girlfriend of one of the smarest and most adorable boys I know.
Wednesday, January 29, 2003
Movin' on up...to the east side (of tremblay that is)
Yesterday was spent mostly in bed...not wanting to move. The heat of the left side of tremblay was not functioning right proper and so I slept till 1 under the warm blankets. Usually in tremblay the heat is up so high you feel tropical. So we saw Prudence and Lola at the campus center and they told us they wanted to move to the crappy side of tremblay and give us their smaller but quieter room. So for five hours, with the help of Jesse and Kate, we moved into Tremblay 108. It's a nice room, the bathroom is nicer, and at night, you can only here the sound of your own breath. No more acid flashbacks from stoners, no more loud obnoxious 80's music coming from Catherine and Julie's room. If I listen closely, I bet I can here the sounds of Colin and Ali have sex, oh excuse me "intercouse." Yep, it's going to be a good semester.
Last night, since Bard is stupid and doesn't have TV for all us kids, we gathered around Porter's alarm radio and listened to the State of the Union address on NPR. There's something really romantic and magical about the radio because it really helps you use your imagination. I pictured our ape of a president shaking his finger about "being deceived by Iraq" and having all these fat white Republicans stand and cheer for war. It was kind of fun. Now if only I could start listening to the radio more, then maybe it could be the new TV. Though all I could listen to would be NPR, and that would kinda suck sometimes.
I found out that Alex's "gun totin' gal" Maggie is going to be at the West Point formal this saturday. So I finally meet the girl that likes to go down on Alex. Let me ask this question: who would actually want to do something like that? Oh I know the "infamous cadet raggio" is going to comment and tell everyone I'm "frigid" and you know what, maybe I am...but I think it's important to be tasteful in discussing sexual matters with people. My friend Sekse's away messages are always chock full of innuendo and it makes me and my best friend Sean really disturbed. You will never see an away message from me that says, "Over at Braden's and we're fucking like rabbits" and I'm not going to boast to Alex or anyone else (unless they ask) about anything sexual ever. I never wanted to know about Alex getting sucked off...12 times for that matter. Some things should be kept to yourself. Although I told everyone about Johnny...but ironically, it was the only time I felt sexually stimulated. Now the story is a bit different. I don't tell every detail...every sordid disgusting detail. I haven't even told my therapist because I'm embarassed.
That's my problem and I'm going to admit it. I have a fear of intimacy. There, I said it. So Alex, laugh away...say "I told you so" and laugh some more. That's fine, you can laugh at my problem...I don't really care.
But I'm going to get that fixed...and stop pretending like I am some sexual goddess.
I'll admit it, I don't have any credentials...I'm a phony professor.
Yesterday was spent mostly in bed...not wanting to move. The heat of the left side of tremblay was not functioning right proper and so I slept till 1 under the warm blankets. Usually in tremblay the heat is up so high you feel tropical. So we saw Prudence and Lola at the campus center and they told us they wanted to move to the crappy side of tremblay and give us their smaller but quieter room. So for five hours, with the help of Jesse and Kate, we moved into Tremblay 108. It's a nice room, the bathroom is nicer, and at night, you can only here the sound of your own breath. No more acid flashbacks from stoners, no more loud obnoxious 80's music coming from Catherine and Julie's room. If I listen closely, I bet I can here the sounds of Colin and Ali have sex, oh excuse me "intercouse." Yep, it's going to be a good semester.
Last night, since Bard is stupid and doesn't have TV for all us kids, we gathered around Porter's alarm radio and listened to the State of the Union address on NPR. There's something really romantic and magical about the radio because it really helps you use your imagination. I pictured our ape of a president shaking his finger about "being deceived by Iraq" and having all these fat white Republicans stand and cheer for war. It was kind of fun. Now if only I could start listening to the radio more, then maybe it could be the new TV. Though all I could listen to would be NPR, and that would kinda suck sometimes.
I found out that Alex's "gun totin' gal" Maggie is going to be at the West Point formal this saturday. So I finally meet the girl that likes to go down on Alex. Let me ask this question: who would actually want to do something like that? Oh I know the "infamous cadet raggio" is going to comment and tell everyone I'm "frigid" and you know what, maybe I am...but I think it's important to be tasteful in discussing sexual matters with people. My friend Sekse's away messages are always chock full of innuendo and it makes me and my best friend Sean really disturbed. You will never see an away message from me that says, "Over at Braden's and we're fucking like rabbits" and I'm not going to boast to Alex or anyone else (unless they ask) about anything sexual ever. I never wanted to know about Alex getting sucked off...12 times for that matter. Some things should be kept to yourself. Although I told everyone about Johnny...but ironically, it was the only time I felt sexually stimulated. Now the story is a bit different. I don't tell every detail...every sordid disgusting detail. I haven't even told my therapist because I'm embarassed.
That's my problem and I'm going to admit it. I have a fear of intimacy. There, I said it. So Alex, laugh away...say "I told you so" and laugh some more. That's fine, you can laugh at my problem...I don't really care.
But I'm going to get that fixed...and stop pretending like I am some sexual goddess.
I'll admit it, I don't have any credentials...I'm a phony professor.
Tuesday, January 28, 2003
I look so good!
Today I took Braden for his "updating." I don't expect every boy I date to be up with the times but Braden needed a push in the right direction. And boy did he ever get a push in the right direction. My jaw almost hit the floor when he came out wearing that blue office shirt and those cord pants. That's my boyfriend? He's so attractive! It would seem a very shallow thing to say considering looks aren't everything but there was something sexually stimulating about Braden for the first time in my life...that I wanted to cast everything aside and throw my arms around him and push him into the dressing room. I'm sure he'd be terrified...but usually sexual whims don't happen everyday for me.
But as for everything...I say I had my doubts over break. See, I need passion...passion getting thrown up against a door, leaving with bruises...not S&M shit, that's freaky...but awkward, confused, knocking shit over passion...and I fear to say that Braden and passion do not go together. He might surprise me...dear God I hope he surprises me.
I saw Adaptation with the gang tonight. What a multi faceted movie. I enjoyed it to the fullest...and Streep doing green lines and having sex with a guy with no teeth...I mean that's just genius.
tomorrow is a day of unpacking, blondies...getting back to college...maybe showing Braden the ropes of sexual conduct.
Welcome to Passion 345...I will be your professor Emily Sauter. This class deals with the specifics of passion in context to real advanced sexual skill and tactics. The class will begin slowly with basic footwork and by the end, I expect the student to be at an advanced levels, with lots of hands on demenstrations.
I look forward to working with you...
Today I took Braden for his "updating." I don't expect every boy I date to be up with the times but Braden needed a push in the right direction. And boy did he ever get a push in the right direction. My jaw almost hit the floor when he came out wearing that blue office shirt and those cord pants. That's my boyfriend? He's so attractive! It would seem a very shallow thing to say considering looks aren't everything but there was something sexually stimulating about Braden for the first time in my life...that I wanted to cast everything aside and throw my arms around him and push him into the dressing room. I'm sure he'd be terrified...but usually sexual whims don't happen everyday for me.
But as for everything...I say I had my doubts over break. See, I need passion...passion getting thrown up against a door, leaving with bruises...not S&M shit, that's freaky...but awkward, confused, knocking shit over passion...and I fear to say that Braden and passion do not go together. He might surprise me...dear God I hope he surprises me.
I saw Adaptation with the gang tonight. What a multi faceted movie. I enjoyed it to the fullest...and Streep doing green lines and having sex with a guy with no teeth...I mean that's just genius.
tomorrow is a day of unpacking, blondies...getting back to college...maybe showing Braden the ropes of sexual conduct.
Welcome to Passion 345...I will be your professor Emily Sauter. This class deals with the specifics of passion in context to real advanced sexual skill and tactics. The class will begin slowly with basic footwork and by the end, I expect the student to be at an advanced levels, with lots of hands on demenstrations.
I look forward to working with you...
Friday, January 24, 2003
May I please present Miss Emily Sauter...
Today I bought a gown for the first time in four years. It was an odd feeling being in that dressing room again but there's something about trying on that gown...the one that you will wear that over 1000 people will see. It's yours...
Something about today was agonizing. Pharmacy work went slower than usual and was less exciting. It was a long five hours before I finally got home and into the car to the palisades mall to go dress hunting. You're all probably wondering why I, Emily Sauter...would need a ball gown. Well, on February 1st...I, Emily Sauter...will attend my first West Point ball.
I don't know how I feel about it. I want to be excited...but then I think about the beautiful women, the important people...it just seems so overwhelming for one insignificant girl to take in. How with the dean of West Point take my eyebrow ring? Will I get to waltz? Will the MP yell at me because of my emissions sticker? I still hate the place with a passion, but how beautiful will it all be when the general shakes my hand and assumes nothing about my actions...I am scared because as everyone knows, I am not a lady. But my dress, oh that could make anyone into a woman...hopefully it'll do something for me too.
Could the ugly duckling be the belle of the ball? With senators, heads of state, generals all dancing near me...what will become of me?
It's all just a matter of time before I venture into the world of military royalty.
Today I bought a gown for the first time in four years. It was an odd feeling being in that dressing room again but there's something about trying on that gown...the one that you will wear that over 1000 people will see. It's yours...
Something about today was agonizing. Pharmacy work went slower than usual and was less exciting. It was a long five hours before I finally got home and into the car to the palisades mall to go dress hunting. You're all probably wondering why I, Emily Sauter...would need a ball gown. Well, on February 1st...I, Emily Sauter...will attend my first West Point ball.
I don't know how I feel about it. I want to be excited...but then I think about the beautiful women, the important people...it just seems so overwhelming for one insignificant girl to take in. How with the dean of West Point take my eyebrow ring? Will I get to waltz? Will the MP yell at me because of my emissions sticker? I still hate the place with a passion, but how beautiful will it all be when the general shakes my hand and assumes nothing about my actions...I am scared because as everyone knows, I am not a lady. But my dress, oh that could make anyone into a woman...hopefully it'll do something for me too.
Could the ugly duckling be the belle of the ball? With senators, heads of state, generals all dancing near me...what will become of me?
It's all just a matter of time before I venture into the world of military royalty.
Wednesday, January 22, 2003
Four days left till Bardland...
There's something holding me back about going back to Bard. I've grown accustomed to Darien's shallow behavior, accustomed to television, Grieb's pharmacy hours, great food only a staircase away. I am truly spoiled rotten here in Darien. It's almost like I don't want to go back. Yet, I know that I want to go back, I need to go back...but then I think about all the negative things about Bard...
*Tremblay
*the cold
*Kline
*Leon
*10 AM classes with dewsnap
But there are a lot of good things about Bard
*the suite
*Jesse and all my friends
*Braden
*drinking a lot of alcohol
*Blondies and the psycho waitresses
Certainly I can think of more...but yet I'm torn about going back. Why is that?
It's sad that my life has gotten so lonely and pathetic...I have a routine that never changes. Except for my travelling to Wesleyan to see my camp buddy Ben, it's been the same routine everyday.
Wake up with cat
Shower
Watch "great hotels"
have lunch
work
more tv
go to sleep with cat
Wow, an honest lifestyle, nothing like a typical bard life...with is full of chaos.
I guess I have to figure out what is better: Structure and being bored? Or chaos and tremblay?
I'm starting a magazine I've decided with Jason as my assistant and Kevin agreed to help. We can't think of a title yet, but something that represents American disorder. It's going to be like the New Yorker but not as classy. With Jason's intelligence and my confusion and Kevin's intellect...anything is possible.
Good luck to myself.
There's something holding me back about going back to Bard. I've grown accustomed to Darien's shallow behavior, accustomed to television, Grieb's pharmacy hours, great food only a staircase away. I am truly spoiled rotten here in Darien. It's almost like I don't want to go back. Yet, I know that I want to go back, I need to go back...but then I think about all the negative things about Bard...
*Tremblay
*the cold
*Kline
*Leon
*10 AM classes with dewsnap
But there are a lot of good things about Bard
*the suite
*Jesse and all my friends
*Braden
*drinking a lot of alcohol
*Blondies and the psycho waitresses
Certainly I can think of more...but yet I'm torn about going back. Why is that?
It's sad that my life has gotten so lonely and pathetic...I have a routine that never changes. Except for my travelling to Wesleyan to see my camp buddy Ben, it's been the same routine everyday.
Wake up with cat
Shower
Watch "great hotels"
have lunch
work
more tv
go to sleep with cat
Wow, an honest lifestyle, nothing like a typical bard life...with is full of chaos.
I guess I have to figure out what is better: Structure and being bored? Or chaos and tremblay?
I'm starting a magazine I've decided with Jason as my assistant and Kevin agreed to help. We can't think of a title yet, but something that represents American disorder. It's going to be like the New Yorker but not as classy. With Jason's intelligence and my confusion and Kevin's intellect...anything is possible.
Good luck to myself.
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