The Latest Disappointment from the Letdown Factory

Situation: Campus Movie Fest(ival) reared its ugly head on the confines of Tufts University this past week. In a fashion similar to the two other times this has happened my accomplice and I were interested enough in the annual ordeal to fill out the necessary online forms and offline papers in order to be granted custody of a simple camcorder, black Macbook, and unnecessary tripod, the first and last of which were left unused for a week or more, while the laptop was put on loan to an ally upstairs for purposes more noble than poor movie-making.

Yesterday evening, however, the deadline for our completed movie was looming within the 24-hour mark, and it became clear that something had to be done. In a trademark easy-way-outist decision, we opted to adapt something written months ago into a workable solution to our as-yet un-thought-about movie conundrum. Eighteen hours later the following emerged, springing fully-formed from the head of iMovie '06.

Enjoy, I'm sorry, you're welcome, and now you know.




Prediction: The powers that be at CMF will opt not to screen this labor of love at the University's finale event, and I will not be there to see it not happen.

What Went Wrong this Easter?

I will tell you: I did not eat a single Cadbury brand Creme Egg this Easter season of 2008. This is not for want of trying or lack of opportunity - I visited two CVS stores today (Sunday) and one the previous day, but all searches of their shelves proved fruitless*. I would have gone to a Grocery store or a more Reputable Confectionery had I the time, but I was busy being a human being who doesn't expect to have to buy his God Damn Easter Candy in Advance I'm Sorry. Would that I could raze this city to the ground for this (as I see it) slight against The Lord's Tradition, but I know in my hollow heart-cavity of hollow heart-cavities that the machinations of this catastrophe were of my own design, and that is the bitterest egg of all to have to swallow.




*I did find a few Cadbury Orange Creme Eggs, which is a lot like coming home from sleep-away camp to find that, in your absence, your whole family has packed up and moved away, leaving only a note on the front door that reads "sorry," and on the back of which is written "that nobody will ever fucking love you for as long as you disgrace the planet with breath in your lungs."