Winter is without snow. Both Hitchcock’s screenings at Brooklyn Lyceum have been canceled and rescheduled for March. Reading Swift, reading Wilde, reading Kafka. AP English had kept me warm alright. Anticipating replies from colleges. Buñuel is nice. Radiohead too.

Speaking of Swift, Gulliver’s Travels is the best of satire. A fellow named Master Bates, Swift pissing on the government (quite literally), as well as this

“Thus, gentle reader, I have given thee a faithful history of my travels for sixteen years and above seven months: wherein I have not been so studious of ornament as of truth. I could, perhaps, like others, have astonished thee with strange improbable tales; but I rather chose to relate plain matter of fact, in the simplest manner and style; because my principal design was to inform, and not to amuse thee.”

Jonathan Swift, Gulliver’s Travels, Part IV, Chapter XII.

Awesome.

It’s the regents week break. No school until next Wednesday. Metrocards work!

Mr. Melamed says that Queen Elizabeth I would have never thought that some five hundred years later, in one of England’s former colonies, her Speech to the Troops at Tilbury will evoke discussion about her sex life and earn her the title of a “slut.”

Strawberry Fields, Central Park. December 8th, 2007. A man of a rather stout complexion with an odor of alcohol around him yells “Give peace a chance! Give peace a chance!” A Neil Young-looking older man says to his friend: “He must’ve not had his vegetables. He keeps shouting ‘give peas a chance’ haha.”

Pavel says that having turned 18, I can now buy lottery tickets. I said I bought one already. An expensive one too, entitled “Columbia University Application for Undergraduate Admissions.” Seventy dollars.

Maman says “любить — так королеву, воровать — так миллион.”

Possibly my favorite classical character is Dr. Faustus. I admit having only read Christopher Marlowe’s version, yet the character of a melancholic scholar appeals to me. He sold his soul to Lucifer to make love to the ghost of Helen of Troy. This is the best of both worlds — desperation and wit.

CHORUS.
     Thus the heavenly beauty of Helen of Troy
     Did renown her as ‘the face that launched a thousand ships.’

FAUSTUS.
    Haha I ejaculated on that face.

I’m not worried about colleges and SAT scores because we’re going to die from global warming soon either way. 82 degrees in my room and it’s almost November. I think now is a good time to start playing that one R.E.M. song.

Is kind of okay during that short week between when summer ends and school starts.

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My room smells like paint and it brings me warm feelings of nostalgia.

(11:10:54 PM) Justin: im gonna get some nigger soda

Here’s to the cultural artifact of Brooklyn with hazardous flavoring chemicals (glowing red like fucking #FF0000). From Wikipedia:

Tropical Fantasy is an inexpensive soft-drink, originally from Brooklyn, New York. Its low price of 50¢ per 20-ounce bottle led to its success in the 1990s. Tropical Fantasy was initially popular in inner city areas, especially those with dense African-American and Hispanic populations. The company did not employ large marketing campaigns and used simple store displays and low prices to sell its drinks. This made the product almost invisible to consumers not living in areas where the beverages were sold.

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You know your summer is not that good if you:

1. Are reading a book.
2. Have a use for an alarm clock.
3. Have a job.

(09:54:50 PM) Paul: I have to get a 100
(09:54:55 PM) Paul: I promised ms. brogan
(09:55:12 PM) Aida: aw hahah
(09:55:40 PM) Paul: in love’s great delirium I shouted “for thee my dearest I shall get the full 100″

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Sometimes on a cool summer night I wish away through my window and a car passes by playing Frank Sinatra; it makes me feel like I’m in a 50s movie and this ecstatic joy takes over my body.

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About once a year my AIM buddies and I discuss our logs and laugh at how stupid we were a year ago.