Yellowstone: Old Faithful Blows

I went on the Geology field trip this weekend. I'm not going to pull a Clinton and ask people to define "geology field trip" when it's obvious. I'll come out in the open and admit it. We went to Yellowstone. In an overview, I'll just say that it was kind of lame. Geysers constantly erupted sulfur and water into the air. Let's just say the place stinks and blows. Literally. I mean, who wants to see a bunch of holes in the ground spewing water and steam? You see one geyser and you've seen 'em all. But I think it's about time that I revert back to the trusty "title and blasphemy" method of summarizing. After you read this, go to ludwig2028.blogspot.com to see the ultimate picture summary of the trip.

Sir Clark- Unstoppable


Nothing can stop Sir Clark. No one stops Sir Clark. Ever.

Old Faithful- Fidelity Is Highly Overrated

We went to see Old Faithful. You can't not go see it (take that, English teachers! Double Negative Punch!). This is because its regularity is greatly appreciated in a day and age when fidelity is all but ditched on the Roadside Of The Highway Of Ditched Morals. However, when I got there, it was twenty minutes late in erupting. So much for being faithful. Obviously celebrity status has made Old "Faithful" Hill (Faith Hill, get it? HAHA!!!) feel like it can ditch punctuality on the Roadside Of The Highway of Ditched Courtesies.

It's really not that great anyways. I mean, I could have made Old Faithful with my garden hose. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Old Faithful is just a hose operated by some government guy. It erupted late because the guy fell asleep. Stupid bureaucracy.

Attack Of The Geyser Crabs

Kyler and I were looking into one of those disgusting hot springs, when Kyler said, "Wouldn't it be cool if I could create a fish that could withstand boiling water?"

"Oh, they've already got worms and crabs that can!" Declared the father of a certain Canadian that I happen to know, whose name rhymes with Monsteel.

Later, Kyler and I were kind of confused. "How exactly do you cook a crab that can withstand boiling water?" asked Kyler.

"I dunno, maybe you could freeze it first," said Preston.

So for the whole trip, Kyler and I were watching out for those geyser crabs. I've heard that they are quite vicious. Several times, buffalo tracks would go into the "thermal crust" and then disappear. I'm sure the geyser crabs got them. And that "one guy's" son also got attacked, obviously. He came to school with a brace on his ankle the next day.

Attack Of The Buffalos Too


Yellowstone is home to a lot of these guys. Personally, I think they never should have made it onto the Federal Endangered Species List. I think they should go on the Federal "Things That Make Great Burgers" List. But I'm not a rich Congressperson who gets complimentary meals from lobbyists. So instead, I'll try and show the darker side of the buffalo to the public, as sort of a complimentary meal from this lobbyist.

It may look cute and fuzzy, but this is actually a monster. A man eating, ferocious beast. Look at this sign I found in the bathroom:
Yeah, not a friendly little guy. Look at him toss that little Japanese tourist! He even hates Asians! I mean, these things are monsters! They terrorize the park! The rangers are scared of them! They're so rebellious that they commonly defecate in areas that people aren't allowed to go. Somehow, they get into enclosures penned up with a two foot rail, make their statement, and get out again! It's probably some sort of way to show the gang territory of these vicious creatures. I say we abolish them. Meaning, we kill them all and have a National Buffalo Burger Appreciation Day. Congresspeople love to make national holidays while they enjoy their complimentary meals. Pretty soon we'll have National Holiday Appreciation Day.

The Asian Mafia- Perfect In Every Way

We played Mafia. It's a fun game. However one of the games was the ultimate, perfect game of mafia. Not a single member of the mafia died. Those who were sitting on the log formed a voting block. And three of them, including the Asian, were Mafia. Those who spoke against them were quickly dealt with, and as the power of the citizens dwindled, the power of the Mafia increased. Eventually, the members of the Log Block that weren't Mafia had to be killed, but they had served their purpose. It's creepy how awesome organized crime can be.

The Sign Section
I always have this section, and it's always in the beginning of the summary. So I decided to switch it up, and maybe startle you hard core veteran summary readers.

The first awesome sign I saw was that there is a city called Hitt. I'm sure they don't get much done there. How productive can you be when you just sit around hitting each other. I mean, here is a bunch of people who love violence so much that they named their city Hitt? Someone give them a copy of Halo. Or maybe they're all a bunch of mafia hit men...

Unfortunately, I can't remember anything else. It's been so long ago that I forgot (five seconds after I got home). So there it is. The summary. It's a little late, but beggars can't be choosers, eh? Not that I'm saying you're all beggars, but... ok so I was. I'm done. Please send hate mail to my house. The address is 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW Washington, DC 20500.

This I Believe

A short word of explanation. This is a paper we were required to write for English. It is entirely blaspemy, so I sure hope you have a lightning rod when you read this. Here goes:

I was in the 3rd grade when I realized I was different. “Chinese, Japanese,” yelled the kids on the playground, pulling their eyes back to make slits. I stared at myself in the mirror that night, not sure if I liked what I saw. I wished that I had eyes that opened all the way, and white skin. I wished that I were more like everyone else. But over the years, I’ve found that I am empowered. That’s because I believe in being Asian.
It seems like yesterday that I took my first standardized test. I have now taken what seems like millions of them, and they all appear to have the same questions, however easy. This was where my peers and I discovered my remarkable affinity for test taking. “He’s just an Asian,” they’d say, seeing the scores. “He can block out all the wrong answers with those squinty eyes.”
Of course, there are things I can’t block out. I can still see the day when I nearly got beaten up in my mind’s eye. The kid was big, and probably destined to play football in the future. I was Asian, and at the time, I looked destined to play the part of hobbit in the Lord of the Rings. Naturally, I thought I’d end up squished or mutilated like the victims in Law and Order. I was shaking, a little damp. This was before puberty; the wetness was not from sweat. The other kid looked like he’d been through puberty three times. He was a gorilla-- perhaps his mother mixed up his milk with steroids when he was a baby. The fist wound back, and my short life flashed before my squinty Asian eyes. “Don’t fight him! He’s Chinese!” Warned his cohort. “He’s probably a black belt like Jackie Chan.” Falling to my knees, I thanked my lucky stars and my lucky genes, happy to have survived another day.
There are other Asians that are masters of survival. I’ve watched a lot of martial arts movies, full of survivors. Jackie Chan. Bruce Lee. Jet Li. They were all Asian. I watched Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, and all the characters were able to fly. I tried it, but it really didn’t work too well. Recovering from the scrapes and bruises, I realized that I’m only half Chinese. I must be missing something crucial in that other half of my genome. I guess just looking like a full Asian doesn’t endow one with the power of flight. But looking like one does mean I’ll never have to go tanning.
Sometimes I still wish that I had blue eyes and blond hair. Sometimes I wish that I looked like everyone else and wasn’t so conspicuous. But those are just some times, and I’ve found that my differences empower and protect me. And I remember just how great the color of my skin is every time I walk past a tanning salon. I believe in being Asian.

Blogging In Retrospect

This is it. The final blog that I'll have to write for Sir (King) Rich. Never again will I use a joke that begins with "Unless your name is Captain, My Captain..." Never again will any blog be contrived to prove "analysis and synthesis" were occurring. I cannot even guarantee that I will ever "analyze and synthesize" again. It fills me with anguish. There is an empty spot in my heart where "analysis and synthesis" once resided. I feel that I will probably end up filling it by eating for comfort. And yet, as the cliche goes, life goes on. And so, I will look back on this year, and see just how my paradigm has been enriched through "analysis and synthesis."

I feel that I have increased my ability to draw connections between random isolated events, such as Peeps and Howard Dean. This will be infinitely useful in the future, when I become a conspiracy buff. I will also probably now actually be able to figure out who committed the crime in Law And Order before the end of the show. And this will all be accomplished by putting random bits of information together that have no connection.

I feel that I have also increased my ability to attack anyone and anything. I have upheld the virtues of Asian society and ability, maligned the Mexicans, scorned the British, and mocked the French. I have attacked Christmas. I've slandered Democrats and Republicans alike. I've mocked the school system, derided fads, and disparaged the law. I've disrespected civil engineers, Dr. Suess and garbage men. I feel confident that I could take this trait and become a radio personality and do a great job like Imus and Al Sharpton.

Thus, at the close of this year, I feel that blogging has empowered me. No subject is too large, too abstract, or too respectable to be attacked. No connection cannot be proven through manipulation of facts and "concrete detail." This assignment has prepared me for the real world. I feel that I will someday change the world in much the same way that Josef Stalin did. But first, I have to make it through the last few weeks of school. Sir Rich, this is the Chlorine Addict, over and out.

The Bean Rebellion

A couple of weeks ago, my friend President Ludwig wrote about the evils of our friends across the northern border. This week, I will be forming a conspiracy theory about our border buddies to the south. Yesterday was Cinco de Mayo. It is a joy-filled occasion that no one except the supermarkets celebrate by selling frozen ethnic food for "low prices." It doesn't seem intuitive that we would celebrate some other country's independence. I thought I smelt something fishy, and probably not just the frozen fish tacos in the supermarket.

I have come to the conclusion, through extensive research (playing guitar) and analysis (napping), that the grand Empire of Mexico is attempting to take over America. Not only are there maple spies among us from the north, but there are also bean agents from the south. This has been going on since World War I with the Zimmerman Telegram. This is evident in the way our society is coming to be dominated by their culture. Not only is "salsa" taking over the food industry, but "salsa" is also a type of dance! Sombreros are used as mind control devices. I would dare you to put one on and show me you're able to resist the desire to do the Mexican Hat Dance, but then you would become a pawn of the beans.

What really steams my broccoli (and I can't even eat it cause it's Fast Sunday), is that they are trying to take over traditional Asian roles. Mexican rice is the cheap knock off of fried rice, and tacos and burritos are like demented egg rolls. NAFTA is effectively moving our economy from China to Mexico. We thought we were getting a good deal when we tapped into cheap Maple drugs, but now our figurehead economy of numbers and papers can be toppled by the flatulent (defintion: having unsupported pretensions; inflated and empty; pompous; turgid) whims of one bean, leading to a stench of panic and terror within our country. Personally, I'm disgusted by the bean flatulence, and I urge all to take action. We need to take back our country from the beans. We need to attack them and make them the 51st state. We'll start with their headquarters, Betos.