Though I’m sure very few of you, if any, will be interested in reading this, I thought I’d post my research paper anyway. It’s very long and pretty boring, so, enjoy!
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I stood off stage in a sort of stupor. I had no idea what was going on. Why was I at the filming of a television show with these people? It didn’t make any sense. Then the audience started clapping like crazy and everyone was like “Yeah!! Wooo!” A slick looking guy in a suit walked out on stage with a microphone. He had one of the stereotypical game show announcer voices and he said, “Heeeeeeyy everybody! Welcome to the show!” Then he began introducing all the celebrities, and I could see their dead looking faces up close in a monitor off stage as the cameras zoomed in on each of the bodies. The camera stopped on Tim Allen and the announcer said something like, “Let’s give a hearty welcome to the first guest on our new reality show!” and everyone started going nuts. I was really confused, since the guy was just lying there passed out and all, and everyone was clapping and screaming like mad. I’d moved over to one of the monitors and was squinting really hard at it to try and see if I could figure out what was going on. The guy looked really out of it. Then, suddenly he jerked up in his chair and his eyes shot open. I jumped back and stared wide eyed at the screen, then spun around to look at the stage.
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I think the dreams are coming back. They haven’t been frequent or anything, but this most recent one was incredibly freakish.
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The weekend was a pretty crazy one. I was never actually away from Taylor for a full day, which was a sort of strange experience. Well, strange in that I made the trip here and back twice in one weekend. I had a good time though, and hopefully people from home aren’t getting tired of seeing me so much.
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It’s much harder to be a openly pretentious, arrogant elitist type than one might imagine. Well, when it’s not your nature to be such anyway (though I suppose that’s up for argument). I have fairly strong feelings about the superiority of the music I listen to, also known as “my music”, over basically all other music, popular and otherwise. Because of this I decided to write my research paper for my writing class on the philosophy of music. I figured that this would be an excellent means for me to, with research, bring to light the faults of music I dislike and then triumphantly condemn it. I mean, all music that I like is obviously very good, quality stuff, otherwise I wouldn’t like it, whereas other less refined people will listen to whatever is put in front of them that has a catchy beat or chorus. It’s a flawless plan with absolutely no room for error on my part.
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