This is what I did when I was an intern: went on facebook, hoarded complimentary redbull, mailed some things.
This is what I'd have my intern do: make faces at the monkey, make me milkshakes, and organize the unorganizable glob of clutter which is the entire western side of my room.
Back to the "affirmation"-ness of the previous posts, I want to point out that a key ingredient in getting stuff done, in addition to thinking positively and trusting yourself, is being really pissed off.
All the best social revolutions are the direct result of some serious pissed-off-ness, and channeled into the appropriate forum you can use every ounce of it to fuel projects focused on change. MLK kind of change.
I was watching mtv teen Cribs yesterday... (umm... nope. no excuse.) If you haven't seen Cribs, it's a show where people show off their ostentatious wealth (think solid-gold monogrammed pool-balls, solid gold toilets, solid gold katana...) And usually they feature eccentric celebrity rock stars or skateboarders or bosomy actresses who own way too many cars and shoes for any single person to be able to use in 3 lifetimes. And they flaunt their gold albums and trophies and pretend to give a tour of the kitchen, a room which they have almost certainly never entered before this very moment except to scream at their personal chef.
But this episode wasn't about eccentric celebrities- it was just about rich kids. Kids who are freakin' loaded. Kids with private movie theaters and 19 guitars and a spiral mahogany slide right built inside their house to take them from their bedroom to their custom built treehouse.
When I was driving to highschool I used to look at the houses which grew larger and more beautiful the closer we got to the wealthy part of town and I'd pick out what I wanted. I'd take that inground swimmingpool with the waterfall, that rose garden, those fancy columns at the front... and I did this with women in magazines as well. I'd take a nose here, a tiny little waist there, slim calf muscles and perky breasts from page to page and reassemble them into a body wish-list cache.
This made shopping for bathing suits less than enjoyable. This made a lot of things less than enjoyable. If I had an intern (and while we're talking wish-list here, why don't we make it super-intern,) I would have him hack into MTV airtime during commercials inbetween Teen Cribs and air some sort of public service announcement about how this is a model for neither a realistic, fulfilling, or interesting life.
Not that I wouldn't want an indoor mahogany slide, a swimmingpool, or a golden katana. I might even have super-intern carve dig, and forge me one of each. But I certainly wouldn't wave them around on television in what essentially amounts to holding up a big sign that says "I'm a socially insensitive, emotionally stunted, entitled brat."
Have you watched My Super Sweet 16? Where Daddy shells out upwards of a hundred thousand dollars for his little girl to gyrate around dressed as a prostitute princess after being carried in via white horses/shirtless men dressed as greeks/a personal helicopter (all of these were actual entrances...)
That show is endlessly amusing to me, mostly because there's lots of sparkles and drama, but don't these people realize what aliens might think about them?
I'm not a big believer in worrying about what other people think, but ever since I read recently that the EISCAT space station was paid to broadcast a Doritos advertisement into space for 6 straight hours on loop, and that that signal is one of the strongest coming off of our planet, I've been pondering an extraterrestrial perspective.
No doubt we're a pretty predictable bunch- a few dead here, a few having sex over there, we fight, we make up, we fight some more... but the idea of an entire civilization deriving its knowledge of our culture from that Doritos advertisement is highly troubling to me.
I mean at least it wasn't a Super Sweet 16 signal, but still... what does it say about us? That we're always out for the buck? Or maybe that we're creative when we want to be? Or maybe that Doritos are our all-knowing flavorful leaders...
I've decided to use my TeenCribs pissedoffness to make a little change, and so I posted a youtube video soliciting donations for four, count 'em, four educational projects. They're really good adorable causes like buying interactive science research kits for underprivileged kindergardeners, and inspirational biography textbooks for ESL students.
I calculated that if everyone who reads the blog gives as little as $2 to any of the causes, we'll have completed all four charity projects by the end of the week.
I know you don't usually do this sort of thing. Neither do I. I'll admit it- I change the channel on Sally Struthers. There's so much poverty, so much to be done, that sometimes it feels like there's no good place to start so you might as well turn a blind eye. Go fondle your golden katana or something...
But I want to prove that the internet isn't just a universe of awkward social networking and porn. Especially in honor of this new presidential era, I'd like to encourage you to make tiny differences. Together, as we've all seen, tiny differences make monumental changes. And here's the cool part- there's a community forming here on the blog so we already have strong numbers- it won't be just your $2, you'll be part of the beginning of a movement. If you've been reading and enjoying the posts I invite you to pick any of the links, toss in a few bucks, leave a comment for your fellow readers to see, and invest in the future of all of our futures.
And all 30 kids in Mrs. F’s middle school writing club in Philladelphia will get a brand new writing journal
Maybe one day super-intern will be able to send out the comment and donation page to Ursa Major just like the Doritos folks did. I for one would feel pretty good about the aliens seeing that. And really, if given the opportunity to make kids laugh, make yourself feel good, and make an excellent impression on aliens who there's a small chance might one day become our overlords, shouldn't you take it?
That's all I got. Let's give these kids something to be excited about other than the impossible dream of owning one of those money swimming pools like Uncle Scrooge in DuckTales.
Also- it seems that my sorry attempt at regularity has already technically strayed because although I'm still on Monday and haven't gone to sleep, it's actually 3:51 AM Tuesday, hence the title change. I think I like it better though... nice assonance. And hey- nice ass. Yeah you... you're awesome. Do something nice for yourself today.