Recycling My Past: Kiss vs. Jewel

This is exactly what it looks like.

I originally wrote this in April 2007, in an attempt to set a record for the longest column ever printed in URI's campus newspaper, the Cigar. Although there was no real way for me to check, I'm pretty sure I did, since the piece was 3,001 words. If you want to punish yourself, you can read it here. This entry is a combination of that piece with some added detail.

I'm going to tell another story about things my friends and I did in the past. Back when I was a freshman in 2002, my friend Pat was invited to a party his cousin Jen was having at her house in Newport. She went to Salve Regina, and Pat brought me along, and our two other friends, Eric and Jeff.

For some reason, even though most of us had cars, we took our friend Chris' car. I don't know why we did this, since our friend Jeff couldn't really drive stick that well, and he was driving. We also got kind of lost on the way there. Three of us were from South County, and one was from Vermont, so really, you can't fault us for not knowing Newport, it being a whole 30 minutes away from where we grew up.

I'm regrouping though: This was the first "college party" that most of us had been to, so we played it cool for the most part. You know, we had a few beers, played some Taboo, didn't get too Wild and Crazy Kids. (Yeah, that's right, I just used that TV show name as an adjective, want to fight about it?)

As the party started to break up, Pat and Eric got into an argument with Jen's boyfriend, Ian, with Jen's friends Betsy, Kate and Erica egging them on. The argument was about who was better, Kiss or Jewel.

Reflecting back upon the argument, it is now obvious to me that it is something we have all pondered in our short time on this Earth. Keep in mind, this was before Jewel went bat-S crazy and tried to become a pop diva, and also before Gene Simmons started hosting a reality TV show that revealed he was a kind-of normal dad.

As Pat and Eric came up with reasons why Jewel was better, Ian came up with what he considered the ultimate counter to their arguments. "You can be buried in a Kiss coffin, does Jewel have coffins?"

Side note: Kiss no longer sells coffins, unfortunately. The band sold the Kiss Kasket from 2001 to 2006 for low, low price of $4,700. On the plus side, the band did autograph it before shipping out a unit.

Once Ian brought up the coffin issue, the argument slowly petered out, although it is still hotly debated to this day. For what it's worth, while I was intentionally on the side of Jewel, I have become a bigger Kiss fan as time goes on. Jewel really only had that one stellar album, which had come out around the time of this argument, whereas Kiss has an entire catalog of different music that is still worth listening to. Their greatest hits and singles collection CDs has a whole bunch of music you don't even realize is theirs.

After that, we left the party, and an unnamed member of our crew demanded that we stop at Newport Jai Alai (back when it still had jai alai) to pee in some shrubs. We concluded the night with some grub from IHOP, which was utterly fantastic at 2 a.m.

Recycling My Past: Jayson Blair's last column

I originally wrote this for my college newspaper in January 2007. I always liked it a decent amount, yet it didn't get a ton of hits on the web site, or much of a reaction from my friends. Well, let's give it another shot! A blast from my past...

Editor's Note - After searching through the paper's archives, I was amazed to find a lost freelance article by Jayson Blair. The copy editors at The New York Times must have been asleep at the wheel, because his plagiarism was shocking! I can't believe they didn't catch on to his sick, depraved act earlier. Here is the article, printed in its entirety:

EERIE, Indiana (AP) - Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

But let us not wallow in the valley of despair we live in. I say to you today, my friends, that even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed.

You know, true love is hard to find. Sometimes you think you have true love and then you catch the early flight home from San Diego, and a couple of nude people jump out of your bathroom blindfolded like a goddamn magic show ready to double team your girlfriend and it stops, well it stops right there because what I'm trying to say is that true love is blind.

Not only are we going to New Hampshire, we're going to South Carolina and Oklahoma and Arizona and North Dakota and New Mexico, and we're going to California and Texas and New York. And we're going to South Dakota and Oregon and Washington and Michigan! And then we're going to Washington, D.C., to take back the White House! Byaaah!!!

Of course, this reminds me of a cherished memory from my youth. One time, at band camp, I stuck a flute in my pussy.

But I'll let bygones be bygones. For you see, back then it was the best of times, and it was the worst of times. It was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness. It was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity. It was the season of light, it was the season of darkness. It was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.

After all the jacks are in their boxes, and the clowns have all gone to bed… Well, you can hear happiness staggering on down the street, footsteps dressed in red. And the wind? The wind, whispers, "Mary."

What I'm trying to say is that I like big butts and I can not lie. You other brothers can't deny that when a girl walks in with an itty-bitty waist and a round thing in your face you get sprung! That girl, she's got what I need, but she says I'm just a friend, she says I'm just a friend.

I am not above intolerable cruelty. One time I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die. Then, another time, early one morning while making the rounds, I took a shot of cocaine and I shot my woman down. I got up next morning and I grabbed that gun, then I took a shot of cocaine and away I run. I made a good run, but I ran too slow, they overtook me down in Juarez, Mexico.

My first article had no famous guest appearances. The outcome? I was crowned the best lyricist. With my many years on this professional level, why would you question who's better? Yo, all I need is one mic. All I need is one mic... That's all I need. All I need is one mic.

And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.