Austin Powers: “Two things scare me. One is nuclear war.”
Basil Exposition: “What’s the other?”
Austin Powers: “Excuse me?”
Basil Exposition: “What’s the other thing that scares you?”
Austin Powers: “Carnies. Circus folk. Nomads, you know. Smell like cabbage. Small hands.”
Given that the United States is at war and that we go to school in perhaps one of the largest military targets in the world, Austin’s first fear applies to Georgetown. Also, given that in nearby Vienna, Va., there is a “Midgetville” full of belligerent little circus people who shell visitors’ cars with pebbles and sticks, Austin’s second fear is also quite relevant.
Sucks for you.
See, I’m safe at home, waiting to go abroad. And while you guys are up there worrying about vengeful dwarves, internships and impressing your new professors, I get to do absolutely nothing.
This kind of idleness sounded great around mid-December, when I was writing papers about Zambian democracy or the gothic nature of Osama bin Laden. But as I stand, or sit, in the thick of this inactive scenario, I wonder if it’s a good thing to lay around and do diddley poo. I am bored silly. In my quest to cure this boredom and see if it really is better to be idle than active, I have sought many outlets.
Now, there are many ways to attempt to cure the problem of boredom. The first is reading the Richmond Times-Dispatch editorial page, because it can rile even the most moderate of politicos. One lady wrote a letter to the editor about how Harry Potter promotes witchcraft. There’s also usually a political cartoon about how the ACLU is communist. So one day, I wrote a letter to the editor criticizing an editorial they wrote about how it was acceptable to shoot Taliban soldiers in the back because Lincoln justified the same actions in 1863 or something. There are a lot of Civil War reenactors in my town. It got printed, but I can’t write another one for 60 days, so that activity has been cut short.
If you’re bored to tears, you can also see movies. I have seen many, but they get expensive, and the fact that I’ve already memorized The Royal Tenenbaums after only two weeks might be considered disturbing by some. I learned two things from watching all these movies: First, Never rent Scary Movie 2 on DVD, and never watch the deleted scenes from Scary Movie 2 on DVD, because they are perhaps the worst pieces of filmmaking since, um, Scary Movie; second, Legolas is indeed a badass.
In another endeavor, I went to UVA to see a basketball game with my dad and his friend, and secretly rooted for Julius Hodge and NC State amidst the frenzied, drunk and obnoxious UVA fans that soiled the MCI Center on Dec. 20. The dude next to me, who was about 40 years old, screamed right in my ear. Except he didn’t yell, “DE-FENSE!” or “YOO-VEE-AY!” He just yelled, “BLEAAAAHHH!” over and over again. It was hideous, nasal and beastly, and I wanted to bludgeon him with my grayish hot dog.
It snowed in Richmond at one point after New Year’s. My brother and I made a derelict snowman. We gave it tangerine eyeballs and a middle-school track jersey. When it began to melt, my brother took its head off with a shovel. My dad poured coffee on its large, frozen crotch. Does this say something about my family?
One of my friends belongs to a gym in the redneck county next to mine, so we went there on some cold afternoons to play basketball. After destroying some 12-year-olds and a foursome of pothead hillbillies who were out of breath after the third point, my friend ran out of guest passes. So, again, I went home and sat on the couch. I watched ESPN2 reruns of 1996 ACC basketball. How did Dante Calabria not make the NBA?
As I sit on my couch, reflecting on these events, I think boredom may not be so bad. That’s a trite conclusion, huh? But walking around the house, not worrying about homework, cafeterias and deadlines, I realized the one ultimate and divine comfort of confined boredom: I get to wear sweatpants. And I’ll take sweatpants over J. Crew every day and twice on Sunday.
Yes, friends, seek boredom.
