Showing posts with label iowa city. Show all posts
Showing posts with label iowa city. Show all posts

In Defense Of Iowa, Sort Of...


By Bub 

University of Iowa journalism professor Stephen Bloom recently stirred up a bit of controversy in his Atlantic piece on life in Iowa. That there are meth-heads and people afraid of the world, sequestered in middle America apparently only comes to the surprise of Stephen Bloom and his detractors. In all of the criticism of his article, this central point is missing – those people are everywhere. In fact, there are clearly more meth-heads and degenerates per capita in the five boroughs of New York than in any Midwestern state. So what? That demographic description tells us nearly nothing about the reality of any single place.

I think the point that Professor Bloom was driving at and which he missed was that while that segment of the population is present en force in Iowa, ‘dream seekers’ are markedly absent. People don’t travel to Iowa to ‘make it big’ like they do in New York, or L.A. or any other major cultural center. Which is true – if you want to be an actor, or on TV, or even have a major art exhibit (unless you go to Des Moines) you don’t move to Iowa. But that is a pretty narrow picture of what ‘making it big’ could mean. For instance, if you want to become an important literary figure, chances are you’ll come to Iowa. The Iowa Writer’s Workshop is the preeminent writing program in the nation. If you want to practice law in the Midwest you’d be lucky to come through Iowa. If you’re into presidential politics, there isn’t a better place to be early on than Iowa, I can attest having worked for Obama in Iowa before he registered double digits in any polls. If you, like film-maker David Lynch, are into transcendental meditation you may be surprised to find out that the epicenter for such activity is in a small town in eastern Iowa. And maybe most surprising to the liberal elites to which I feel both an affinity toward and an aversion from, some people chase their dream to such rural locales as Dubuque and Dickinson County where they can carve out a unique place in the world and enjoy natural beauty.

This is not to denigrate the wonders of big city life – it’s truly wonderful, and honestly what I prefer, despite the crime and the soul-crushing commutes. I relate to Prof. Bloom’s characterization of most of Iowa, I grew up in rural western Illinois near the Iowa border, and I lived in Iowa for six years. It’s just that I don’t believe that you wont encounter the same proportion of depressing people in any major city, and also I doubt those big city ‘failures’ would be as nice.

I came across a Buddhist proverb when I was younger that baffled me for a long time, it said to be content with where I was in the world. That seemed insane to me and discredited Buddhist philosophy for me for a long time. ‘Be content with where you are; would you have said that to a black guy in South Carolina in 1842?’ I thought. Well, I missed the point, and I think this is where Prof. Bloom and I differ. While we agree there is plenty pathetic and wrong in Iowa, I know there is plenty pathetic and wrong everywhere. Things may differ at first appearance but the good to bad ratio equals out below the surface. And more importantly no existence is inherently any more meaningful than any other. It is nice for a Professor of Journalism to think that he has staked out a special place in this world, that his life is somehow more meaningful than a meth addict from Decorah. But in all honesty it is not, and mine isn’t either – no one’s is. And that is a truth that I’ve gathered without ever having the pleasure of visiting New York City.

Monday Morning Brown Out


By James 

Good morning, readers. I have been away from Iowa City the last two Mondays, and also away from the world wide web, and I would like to graciously thank Glenn for covering those Monday morning posts. If you must know, I was visiting my girlfriend, Eliza, in Massachusetts, a state without internet and electricity--for the planet, I'm told. We went on a New England road trip, where I tried to snap photos of mooses, and also tried to understand why every house in Vermont is caving in and filled with junk, whilst inhabited by many a freedom loving Vermonter. I would like to thank Glenn for covering my Good Morning posts.

While in Massachusetts, I tried to get an interview with the freshman senator from Massachusetts, the enigmatic Scott Brown, to explain his lack of extremism. Unfortunately, he was vacationing in Cancun, Mexico, for spring break, maintaining his impeccable tan; HOWEVER, I did manage to get an interview with him over the phone, as he sat at the bar of the Coco Bongo Club.



Below are the words we exchanged:

Me: Scott! How are you doing! Thanks for giving me this exclusive interview!

Scott Brown: [loud dance music is playing] Great! I'm having some drinks, and then taking my daughters back to the hotel, ha ha ha...

Me: Did you just make a joke about having sex with your daughters?

SB: Ha ha ha... Nah, it was just a joke. Just joking, man. So, what's going on? Mi... Mitt? Who is this?

Me: [short pause] Okay. Many say you have betrayed conservatives by voting with democrats on the Jobs Bill, a bill some claim will set up Stalinist gulag-type work camps. What do you have to say about this?

SB: [loud music still playing] What? I'm being put... What? On a stamp? What? Ayla, let's do... I'll buy some shots. Lemon-drops. Three shots of Lemon-drops. Here.. just, here... Are you from the Boston... Boston Herald? Herald. With the Herald. How did you get this number?

Me: I'm with Oneyearintexas.org.

SB: Who?

Me: Oneyearintexas.org

SB: [click]

Me: Scott?

SB: [dialtone]

If one lesson can be drawn from this interview, it is that Scott Brown is probably not secretly a homosexual, like most other republican congressmen.

Weather:

Today is supposed to be a beautiful day in Iowa City, IA; however, there is a dark storm on the horizon, and the enemy grows stronger as we speak. Scott Brown must take the One Health Care Bill back to the fires of Mount Doom, Washington D.C., where it was made, and destroy it, to stop the Dark Lord Obama from enslaving us all.



Predictions:

Eliza will feel better about her paper today, and I will reread the Lord of The Rings trilogy, but as an allegory for communists taking over America. Glenn will be diagnosed with cancer and will fully recover, and then he will write a riveting memoir about his struggle with HIV/AIDS. Oneyearintexas.com will retroactively be voted Best Online News Journal of the Year for 2009. Someone will comment, "Jokes about cancer and HIV/AIDS are not funny" in the comments, and will be summarily mocked and insulted by OYIT writers. The commenter will then say that none of us are funny, anyway, and we'll all take it very hard.

Have a good Monday.

Good Morning Awful Monday


By James 


Today is the first Monday of the rest of my life. I couldn’t think of a better first line. I looked at a photo of Glenn wearing nothing but argyle sox (GO SOX! Black Sox, Red Sox, blue sox, I don‘t care) for inspiration, but, predictably, I vomited onto my sox. No, I’m not going to use the backspace key. Ever. For any post. Well, we all hate Mondays. My fondest Monday memory is from two years ago, when I went to the bank to report my credit card and check card stolen, and the banker, who moonlights as the dumbest cooze in history, starts her conversation with the fraud and theft department, or whatever they are called, with “Hello, it’s Monday, I’ve got a James Ross here who…” That is how I feel every Monday--I feel like I keep getting my credit and check cards stolen.

So, I forgot until the last minute that I’m supposed to write a “Good Morning” post for OYIT or whatever they’re called, and I don’t know what any of you ass holes expect.

Okay. On with the show. My typical Monday morning during a winter semester in Iowa City, IA, begins with wandering out into a desolate wasteland and the human smog we call the student body at the University of Iowa (not one you would want to have sex with), and then dying right in the middle of it. At least, that is how it feels inside. I trudge on, shouldering a backpack that feels like it has eight hundred awkwardly placed medicine balls in it, scurrying from building to building, like a diseased rodent, smoking several packs of cigarettes between classes, generally trying not to fail out of the University of Life. Perhaps this is an exaggeration, but what do you expect, you ass holes? WHO EVEN READS THIS WEBSITE? Not me. But I have been damned for eternity to write the Monday “Good Morning” post, a Sisyphusian labor, as punishment for being one of the few literate human beings left on the planet. What a bunch of BULL SHIT.

Usually, a person would use the following paragraph to apologize for the last paragraph, and play it all off as a joke, a joke to his or her friends. Well. Fuck you, it’s not a joke. I hate writing for OYIT. I don’t even get paid, unless you count getting butt-fucked every Monday morning.

Now for the weather. The weather in any given place is probably colder than it usually is if it were summer, because it’s winter, you dumb fucking morons, just step outside. Ever wonder what people did before some lame-dick meteorologist told them? PROBABLY NOT, HUH? Oh, and there might be white stuff on the ground if you live in most any place but the South, and who decided they should have all the good weather states, anyway? They’re the worst people in the fucking world, next to the Nazis and Barack Obama, and they get all the good weather. It’s bullshit. California can go to hell, too, because you elected a governor who actually got paid cash to say, “ice to see you” and “chill out,” in the worst Batman installment, Batman and Robin. And you were complicit in the making of the Chronicles of Riddick.

What else does one write about in a “Good Morning” post? I mean, what else does one write about in a “Good Morning” post? We had one internet board meeting (more like bored meeting) and I’m supposed to know how this fucking thing works. Ridiculous. Basically, you’re all screwed if you think the Monday “Good Morning” post is going to be anything but awful.