The Next...

I'm For: Spicy Basil, The Hornet, and Stars of CCTV by Hard Fi
I'm Against: Panda Express, Jet, and Beyonce's Upgrade Song

The Next…

The American sports media is infatuated with anointing the next big thing. It is like we have this subconscious Judeo-Christian complex to apply the second coming in all facets of life.

The next Wayne Gretzky…
The next Pele…
The next Tony Hawk…
The next Michael Jordan…
The next Mark Spitz…

These grandiose comparisons to icons of sport were not given to proven athletes with track records of success that could warrant association to the greatest athletes the world has ever seen. No, these betrothals were given to teenagers well before they were ever paid to play.
And then something phenomenal happened. These teenagers succeeded. They lived up to hype that was out of this world. And they have all done so with a maturity, strength, and poise that are well beyond their years.

I consider it a miracle that none of them are out of the sport, in jail, or addicted to a controlled substance.

I think we have all experienced the arch-typical jock narcissism complex at some level. You know, when a top-notch athlete does well gets a couple press clippings and they begin to believe their own hype. After weaker coaches, teammates and community personalities yield to them, these jocks devolve into narcissistic dicks that get away with murder. Only eventually, they hit a level of competition where they struggle and fail. At which point their entire foundation collapses upon itself and they are left to reanalyze the meaning of their life and the way they behave.

Can you even imagine being 16 and getting compared to the greatest icon your sport has ever seen? Having every move you make as a teenager monitored by scouts, agents, sponsors, and the national media? How do you deal with that and come out normal, when your peers in a similar situation turn into egomaniacal douchebags?

These guys don’t just hold the hopes and dreams of a school, a franchise, or even a country. The future of their respective sport’s success was placed on their shoulders before they made their professional debut. Even Jesus took 10 years to hideaway and cope after he received word that he was the Son of God. These guys took the news, and then spent the next 5 years maturing under the spotlight of international media. An international media that is far more intense than the media coverage of their predecessors.

I am not arguing that these athletes are in fact better than their predecessors. That is a fool’s folly. Too much has changed in the athleticism, technology, and strategy surrounding their sports to compare across generations. It may be comparing apples to apples but it’s like comparing an organic Fuji to a Granny Smith that has been pumped full of hormones and genetically altered to not produce seeds.

Its irrelevant that Sid the Kid may never pass Gretzky’s gaudy points record. Or that King James may not win as many championships as Air Jordan. Or that Freddy Adu hasn’t made Soccer a major sport in America like Pele once did. Nor is it worthwhile to compare Phelps’s accomplishments to Spitz, or Shaun White’s tricks to the great Tony Hawk’s. Doing so is just a vein attempt to create artificial drama that is all too prominent in modern sports media.

I believe it is far more impressive that these athletes continue to excel at a level far above their peers, under far more intense pressure and they are all doing it when most folks their age are complaining about the pressure of finals or paying rent while they get fucked up on the weekend.

If you don’t think its impressive perhaps you should ask Maurice Clarett, Ryan Leaf, Sebastian Telfair, Kwame Brown, Tyler Hamilton, or Marcus Vick how they handled the pressure.

New Jockey? Hold Your Horses!

As a true collegiate Sports fan, I troll on my schools' message boards. Unfortunately for me, collegiate message boards are one of the numerous evil byproducts of the internet.


If you are not familiar with the culture of message boards stay away while you are ahead. They are God awful places that are a complete waste of time and energy. They are a congregation point where ego centric and provincial sports fans that have absolutely no bearing on the performance of the team discuss topics of little or no importance to the greater population of the world. Typically topics fall into one of the following categories:

1. Celebrating wins and praising the teams performance: During these topics posters commonly use the personal noun "WE" in reference to the team, as if they were the 6'3 white kid on the bench that never plays but gets to wear the team warmups and participate in all the bench rituals.

2. Inane strategy talks: During these topics posters frequently ponder what they would do if they were the head coach. All posters have infinite wisdom that no coach of twenty years could ever possess.

3. The prognostication/speculation: These are favorite topics among sports fans, because after all, sports are all about the hope and possibility of next year. During these topics posters speculate the performance of the team next year. These posts almost always feature the words potential, talent, excitement, and best ever. Usually prognosticators will refer to the talent of recruits they have never actually seen play aside from a 2 minute highlight video of said player torching wildly inferior high school players.

4. The Article Commentary: These topics start out with one poster placing the link of a news article on the message board. Depending on the thesis of the article and the message boards perception of a writer they will do one of two things. Praise the writer uncontrollably about his superior knowledge of the team and incredible writing style. Or deride the writer mercilessly about his incompetence and bias towards the home team. The funny thing is these fans know infinitely more about their team then the writers and as a result almost none of the articles actually reveal new information about the team.

5. The Rare Insight: Occasionally an educated or insightful individual will bring up a point of note. After their initial post, a slew of un-insightful posters will follow with their praises of the Insightful one, adding absolutely nothing to the conversation.

6. The Inside Source: Either a student or someone with a connection to the team will post an inside scoop of a player. Sometimes its a cute story about a player signing a kids basketball at the mall, but usually it is something negative like a drug possession, cheating on a test, or an injury. The response of the mass posters is always the same 3 step process. 1. Shock and denial. 2. Expressions of disappointment and a few disparaging remarks about the player. 3. Eventually posters move to acceptance and praise of the program's clean history relative to other evil programs.

7. The Post Loss Melancholy: Although losses are the worst part of being a sports fan, they are peak activity hours for message boards. Posters come from all over to express their pain, and complain about how the team didn't play up to their lofty expectations. Post loss topics usually consist of.
- Beleagured praise of the opponent, and brief compliment to visitors from opposing message boards.
- Scapegoating of players who had particularly bad game and calling out all their mistakes. Ironic considering most posters never even played on their JV team.
- Complaining about the refs and their many terrible calls
- Calling out the opponents and their classless behavior
- Praising the players who had a good game in spite of the loss
- Calling out other posters who are fair-weather for being so negative after a loss
- Rationalizing the loss relative to season performance, or because you are dealing with kids who are 18-24.
- And my favorite calling for the coaches job. Because the players are "amateur" aka they aren't "paid" and therefore cannot be fired. The only people you can really assess blame against are the coaches. And boy do people place blame on the coaches, with their all knowing 20/20 hind sight and their myopic views. Posters call for heads to roll at a rate that dizzies the Mr. Goullitine.

Recently I came across a poster who was calling for Gonzaga coach Mark Few's head. His exact quote was "We have the Horses, We just need a new Jockey!" Below is my response to that post. Larry if you happen to be TacomaZag, well I am not surprised.

TacomaZag: I hear you. These two recent losses are very disappointing. Combined with refreshed memories of a few early tournament exits, and it is enough to raise any Zag fan's blood pressure.

But honestly, you're calling for Few's head because of a couple close losses to "elite" programs? Close losses to good teams in the pre-season is not grounds for firing even among "elite" programs.

In fact, what separates almost all of the elite programs of college basketball is consistency of great coaching. The success of Duke, Florida, UConn, Kansas, UCLA, Arizona, Syracuse, and MSU, can all be attributed to great tenured coaches. Those programs experienced a lot of the same growing pains you referred to, but their patience allowed them to get over the hump.

It's frightening territory calling for coaches heads. Just ask Kentucky, Indiana, and Notre Dame (in football). If historically elite programs with unlimited resources are struggling to maintain, how the hell do you think we are gonna fare? As great of a story Gonzaga is, I don't think you can call us a top tier coaching position. Relative to other top programs we don't pay great, we have a terrible location, we play in a bad conference, and we have mediocre facilities.

We are incredibly fortunate to have stumbled upon a coach who has embraced those challenges and turned them into competitive advantages. You can argue that Few is responsible for poor game management against top level competition. But who are you going to bring to Gonzaga that is going to do better while maintaining top tier recruiting, scheduling, and in conference performance? Not to mention the fact, that Few runs an ethical program that generally has lived up to the mission of the university.

I know that we all want to get to the status where we consistently beat top level competition. But those same factors that prevent us from being elite on the court, are the same factors that prevent us from landing and keeping an no elite coach better than Few. Calling for Few's head is a dangerousgame and could lead us down the road of other small schools that have fallen by the wayside (see San Francisco, Seattle, and LMU).

Go Zags. Take these experiences learn from them and grow as a team.

P.S. Coach K addressed the less than 10 seconds on the clock with a tie game or down by one scenario in his book. Assuming his point guard or star player has the ball and is dribbling down the court he generally doesn't call the timeout. Then again Pargo ain't Bobby Hurley, especially with a bum leg.

Transformation Through Conformity

I'm for: British Indie Rock, Salt of the Earth Americans, and Sierra Nevada Pale Ale.

I'm against: Lil' Wayne's 8 grammy nominations, rich Houstonians, and Fireman 4 Ale.

__________
I am standing in a production van in a mall parking lot in Kansas City, Missouri. A beautiful woman stands before me presenting herself for my approval.

“That looks nice. Now let’s try the jean skirt with the pink top.” I speak thoughtfully as if I am painting a picture in my mind. I excuse myself from the RV and make my way to the wardrobe rack again.

How the hell did I get here?

Just 12 years ago I was standing in the halls of Cresthill Middle School during a passing period and Cari mumbled, “At least you match” in my general direction.

Cari had been an object of fascination for me for about two weeks then, but she had never actually talked to me before. My fascination with Cari wasn’t really sexual at that point. Honestly, I was just mystified by the girl. She had this incredible presence that took over every classroom she entered. But unlike most of the other popular girls she wasn’t unbelievably hot. At the time she was cute and peppy, but she wasn’t the starlet of the Cresthill middle school boys dreams, Megan and Tamara cast those roles. Nonetheless, Cari’s confidence elevated her beyond the rest, and teachers and students respected her without the resentment typical of middle school.

So when Cari uttered that backhanded compliment I jumped on the opportunity to probe her sage advice.

“What do you mean at least I match?” I asked inquisitively.

“Well you wear the soccer swish swoop pants and t-shirts all the time, but you have the sense to coordinate the colors unlike some of the other dorks, you know like Doug.” (Doug used to wear soccer jerseys all the time including this England shirt that was impossible to match with anything, Doug and I weren’t really friends but I knew about his horrible style and being placed in the same group was horrifying for my fragile middle school ego).

Cari and I continued our conversation about my lack of fashion sense for the remainder of the passing period. The discussions continued periodically as my wardrobe transformed from 100% soccer friendly gear to an awkward smorgasbord of discount rack designer shirts that were out of season, ill fitting, and gaudy as hell. She taught me about brands and what it meant when you wore them. During the process, I fell hard for Cari and soon after I confessed my feelings (over Instant Messenger of course) I discovered the meaning of “Friend Zone.” At the time I didn’t fully comprehend it, and instead of moving on quickly like other 13 year olds, I dropped into a period of melancholy and self-loathing that had my parents worried. I leveraged their fear for my well being, to get new clothes to impress Cari and other girls.

Totally disgusting, right? On top of all the other awkward shit you go through in middle school and high school we have materialism as a fodder for peer pressure and bullying.

That moment when Cari mumbled those words was the inflection point for my life. Up to that point I was pretty much oblivious about what other people thought of me. I wore sweatpants and short ass soccer shorts every day through elementary school. I was a soccer player and that’s what I wanted people to know about me, I didn’t think that clothing and material possessions could affect people’s perceptions and attitudes.

Now it is my profession to define those perceptions and attitudes. And As much as I am disgusted by it, I am totally fascinated by the reasons we choose to conform.

If Cari hadn’t happened to me something else probably would have. At that time I was dead set on a course to be a scientist or an engineer. She transformed me, because she taught me how to conform.

Cari and I haven’t talked in about 3 years. Ironically, last time I spoke to her she was a full bore Berkeley based hippie that had rejected all materialism and neo-Christian morality. Oh the mysterious ways of the world.

I return to the R.V. and the beautiful model.
“That skirt looks great on you, I think we will go with that and the first white top. The photographer will be ready to shoot in about 5 minutes.”

From unable to dress myself, to deciding the wardrobe of models at photo shoots. Yeah, it is a crazy world.

Da Royal Crib

I'm For: The Simpsons, english ticketbrokers, and Indian food in England.

I'm Against: The Geico Caveman Show, american ticketbrokers, English Food in England

On Wednesday we head just West of London to visit the inland towns of Windsor and Eton. These two towns would be just like any other small country towns except they contain two of the greatest historical establishments in London. Windsor Castle and Eton College.

Eton college is basically Harvard X 30. It is a breeding ground for the educational elite of England since the mid-15th century. Initially established as a small public school for the middle class, Eton has transformed into the breeding ground of nearly every influential political figure in british History. The only prime minister of note that didn't attend Eton was Oliver Cromwell and anybody who knows anything about Irish history knows how bad he sucked.

Eton college is relatively unimpressive from the outer walls of its ancient buildings. But by walking around the small cobblestone campus I start to take in the magnificence almost by osmosis. It is on the edge of a pristine small town on the edge of the River Thames. It has the basic essentials of a small college town, a few pubs, some shops, cafes, and a couple of hotels for visitors. More impressive are the expansive green playing fields, the spectacular river walk complete with regal swans, and the historic cobblestone roads and brick courtyards and buildings. If I didn't know any better I would tell you for certain that I was on the set of the Dead Poet's Society. Enough of the shit let's move onto the main attraction.

Windsor Castle, like its small college neighbor is not an overly impressive sight from the outside. Just a bunch of white stone buildings and oversized walls. Within the walls the castle is its own mini-village, a much larger relatively newer version of the tower of London. The first building we entered was St. George's chapel. Chapel is probably not a very good word for it because the thing is pretty fricking large and impressive. Everything was carved out of marble and featured the very prominent Gothic architecture. The coolest part of the whole chapel was the choir area. Above the seating of the choir area were all of the Coast of Arms of the Knights of the UK. Next to each Knights shield of arms is a sword half drawn, symbolizing that the knight is ready to fight at all times for the Monarch. When the Knight dies the sword is sheathed until they knight a replacement. It's like an extremely elite and noble frat with much cooler symbols.

St. George's chapel also hosts a number of dead people, although not nearly as many as some of the other church crypts in England.

We entered the castle at warp speed because it is going to close in like 45 minutes. The first thing you see is the Royal Dollhouse. The Royal dollhouse looks great but I am sure it is not very functional as a toy. It was built for one of the princesses who was a big fan of dolls. That dollhouse and all its accessories costs far more than my parents house, or any house that I will probably move into during my time on this Earth. Everything is built perfectly to scale of one of the Royal apartments (by apartments I mean multi level complex) and it features working electricity and plumbing.

The next few rooms are old bedrooms that feature insane Rembrandt's and other famous Renaissance paintings. Everything is velvet and looks pretty uncomfortable to sit in.

The first room that catches my attention is a lobby area that leads you to the Royal Ballroom. The lobby features all sorts of awesome trappings of imperialism. Including some wicked pieces from Asia. There is Samurai armor, emerald and onyx statues of tigers, some wicked mideval looking weapons, and a lot more impressive artwork and statues. The ballroom actually has a real royal orchestra practicing as we walk through the room. Needless to say they sounded better than average.

There were two other cool rooms to note. There was the royal armory which featured a whole bunch of weapons from different eras of war next to busts of prominent war heroes from that time period. Similar to the guitar tower they have in the EMP in Seattle or the baggage stacks they have at the Sacramento airport, Windsor Castle's arms room has antique gun stacks and sword stacks (I would say the most impressive of the three stacks).

The other cool room is the Knights Banquet hall. Which featured coat of arms for all of the Knights in the past. For any knights that committed treason or betrayed the crown their shield was covered in white effectively erasing them from history. In case you haven't noticed Knights are totally kick ass.

Windsor castle is notable for three things. One, Its packed with all kinds of insanely rich and cool stuff. Two, it has some pretty incredible views of the English countryside and the Thames. Three they were too cheap to take out a fire insurance policy, and wouldn't you know it the place caught fire! There was a ton of wood and paint damage but they managed to restore the place pretty well. However to pay for all these restorations, they were forced to open the Castle and several other English palaces for paid tours. Which is why I got to enjoy the place today.

For dinner I had some of the best Indian food I have ever eaten. I came to learn that 95% of Indian restaurant are owned by Bangledeshi. I also learned that Bangladesh is the 7th most populated country in the World!

Culture Club

I'm For: Sleeping in, the female host of the Liverpool football channel, and Carlsberg beer commercials.

I'm Against: The lack of back support in my bed, art gallery guides, boxed white wine.

For Tuesday my agenda is dedicated to arts and culture. We start off the day looking for cheap tickets to the theater in Leicester Square. For some reason this square is notorious for selling half price theater tickets the day of the show. My mom and I debate what show to go to all morning. I suggest Billy Elliot, a musical based on the academy award winning movie of the same name where a boy from a northern mining town figures out that he is passionate about dancing (in spite of being hetrosexual). My Mom seems to be pushing every option except that including Footloose, Mama Mia, and the Sound of Music. Eventually we settle on some great seats for Les Mis' I figure it is classic and so it is probably worth seeing eventually and what could be a better place than London.

With our tickets purchased we head to Trafalgar Square and the National Gallery. Trafalgar Square is one of those classic London locations that is featured in every London montage in television and movies. Standing on top of a 250 foot pillar is a gigantic statue of Lord Nelson, victorious Admiral in against the French and Spanish forces in the battle of Trafalgar. See the connection.

There are lots of tourists and students hanging out in the square. Some Japanese guys ask me to take their picture, they each have spectacular cameras. They live up to all the sterotypes and bust out some peace signs. I wonder if this is meant to be ironic, or if Japanese even do comedic irony. They take a picture of myself and my mother, I resist the temptation to bust out a peace sign, and instead bust out a smile for my far eastern friends.

We are waiting on our 2:30 main gallery tour so we head into the "smaller" portriat gallery first. The portrait gallery features paintings of famous british figures. For the most part this is the historical royal family. However in the 20th century it gets more intersting with pop culture and political figures. My favorite portraits in here are the illustrated pictures of Blur, and the photo of Belle and Sebastian. Mostly you just see some impressive oil paintings of dead British monarchs.

Our tour is about to start so we have to make our trip to the portrait gallery brief. We walk into the gallery and make our way to the tour starting point. The first reaction upon walking through the halls is just the vast amount of incredible artwork that surrounds you. The National Gallery is a collection of the some of the greatest neo-classical paintings (13th - 19th centuries). It ranks right up there with the Louve as one of the greatest galleries in the world. We decide to take a tour to make the mass collection of paintings a little more manageable. Unfortunately the tour guide is a pompous art historian, who felt the need to tell us every painstaking detail about each painting. He also had annoying way of pronounce renaissance, (Ren Ahe Saunce). After his 7th anecdote on the second painting I decide to book it out of the tour buck up 6 bucks for an audio tour and take on the gallery myself. I took it on with a reckless abandon like a fat kid at CostCo sample day. There was no particular structure to my approach but I saw my fair share of impressive artwork. My favorite pieces were probably Botachelli, anything portraying the book of revelation, and most of the Dutch Renaissance.

After the National Gallery my mother and I head back to Leicenter Square for some quick dining. I spot out Wagamamas which came as a recommendation from the guide book and a friend. The atmosphere was weird with high school cafateria esque bench seating. Our neighbors were forced to sit next to complete strangers which was pretty entertaining to watch them deal with the uncomfortable forced interaction in a dining environment. Overall the food was good and moderately priced for London. We finish our meal and head off to Queen's theater for the show.

The theater is pretty small, only slightly larger than the Mayan an Indie Movie theater in Denver. The show starts off with a bang, at this stage I realize that the entire performance is going to be in song. Normally this would be a painful experience, but the fact that we're in London and there is some serious musical talent here alleviates my concerns. In my 4 years in high school band and 4 years in GUTS I heard a lot of people talk about how Les Mis was a life changing musical. I wouldn't go that far, but as far as impressive and entertaining theatrical productions I will give it two thumbs up. I did not regret this decision.

My mom and I make our way back to the tube where we encounter our first batch of drunkards in London. I imagine this mass transit experience would be significantly more fun while drinking. My mother and I get home feeling satisifed by our cultural intake for the day.

Tower of Power

I'm for: Yeoman wardens, greek architechture, and the Liverpool Football Channel

I'm against: Art history majors, "suggested donations", and technology companies overvaluing facebook

I manage to sleep in for the first time this week. I have settled into Halifax time as my standard hours of operation. I have no problem with this but my mom sees it fit to give me a lecture about being lazy and sleeping away vacation.

For today we have booked a couple of tickets to the Tower of London, Great Britain's original Castle established by William the Conqueror in 1066. Over the years the tower has been used as a palace, a fortress, a prison, and now it is the great protector of the crown jewels. The tower is not just a physically impressive structure, but it is rich in history and ghastly tales of impriosonments and executions.

Just like everything else in London, the Tower is strategically located on the river Thames and within walking distance of a tube station. The tower even has a sweet river entrances called the Traitors Gate where traitors of London were brought in to never see the outside world again. In spite of my numerous proclimations in favor of Irish acts of terrorism proclaimed during Halo I have not earned my right to enter through the traitors gate. Instead my mother and I take a more conventional approach entering through the land bridge. The castle is equipped with all the standard castle fixings to make it a right midevil town within the outer walls and moat.

We begin our tour with a Yeoman Warden also known as Beefeaters. Check out the gin that shares their name for a picture. Yeoman Wardens are protected guards of the Queen. In modern times you have to have 20 years of honorable military service. You also need a wicked cockney accent and a gregarious presence when telling cryptic stories of murders and executions. These guys were awesome, and definitely merited the standing ovation that our the tour group of 70 people gave them at the end of the tour.

There were tales of executions including Queens of Henry the VIII and other members of the royal family who met their demise at the hands of corrupted power struggle. There are also a number of stories of Catholics that were imprisoned for their defiance of the King's religion, most notably Sir Thomas Moore. There are also a number of American colonists like Sir Walter Raleigh and William Penn. These stories were all cool but are difficult to translate.

The Castle came equipped with its own palace which was built for William the Conqueror after his Norman invasion. Right now the palace shows off all of the ancient miliatary outfits of the ancient kings and their soldiers. It also features one of the oldest churces in England with its Norman chapel. The suits of armor with their noble codpieces were all very impressive.

The Castle also features an impressive ancient chapel and final resting place for a number of the temple prisoners. A strange thing about England is that instead of cemetaries most of the Ancient English people particularly those of Merit are buried within the Church walls in tombs or Crypts. There were 500 people buried within the walls of the small Chapel of St. Peter en Vinicula, and given their demise there was a very erie feeling walking by the ancient crypts and tombs.

The highlight of the tour, or rather Crown Jewel was the tour of the Royal "Bling." Let's just say no matter how much ice Kanye rocks he will never be able to match up to a single piece that was on display here. Within a 28 second escalator tour I saw enough diamonds to pay off the American deficit, reparations and Michael Vick's legal fees in one easy payment. The crown jewels houses 3 of the worlds largest diamonds and royal shit ton of other precious jewels. Not to mention the incredible alter pieces, tea sets, and dining ware that was crafted out of Gold. There is literally a punch bowl with a gigantic ladel that is created out about 4 cubic feet of pure gold. I could not even hazard a guess of the approximate monetary value of these things, and the shocking thing is that most of the stuff on display was from the 17th and early 20th Century. I have no idea how many other things just like this are laying around in historic palaces within England.

Several things struck me while I was walking through this hall of fortressed treasures.

- There is surprisingly little security for millions of diamonds and thousands of pounds of gold. Just a bunch of old semi-retired Yeman Wardens and like 6 visable armed gaurds within these gates. Then again we are in the oldest fortefied Castle in London and we are surrounded by wals and water. I imagine it would be pretty difficult to just hijack a crown. It would make for a hell of a movie though. Oceans 14 anyone?
- No wonder there was a revolution and the Americans were not interested in paying taxes. I am certainly not going to give any extra donations in addion to my $30 entry fee.
- If everything bottomed out in American and our economy became essentially worthless would we have any raw treasures that could just pull us out of debt? To my knowledge we have nothing in America that can measure up to the value of this stuff.
- From what I understand of Great Britain there are at least 10 palaces with shit just like this inside. Not to mention the artwork and Historical treasures that are in British Musesums. If London wanted to they could have the most expensive Garage sale in the history of the world. On the other hand if someone were to decide to set off a Nuclear device in London at least a 1/3 of the classical treasures in the world would instantaneously dissappear.

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. We took a close look at the tower bridge, an impressive bridge next to the Tower that is often taken for the "London Bridge." So much so that an American thought he was purchasing this bridge when he bought the historical London Bridge for $2.4 Million in the mid 20th Century. That bridge is on display in the middle of Arizona, sans piked heads.

On our way back to the tube we encountered the Merchant Marine and Naval memorial from World War I. Nearby there was a huge classical building featuring great corinthian columns and classical greek architchture and a towering copper statue of Posiedon the God of the Sea. I try to look this up on my tour book and map and these monuments are no where to be found. It is incredible how such amazing historical and architechtural monuments are not even notable. That gives you an impression of the sheer size and history that exists in this city.

Imperialism Rocks

I'm For: Gothic architechture, the tube, English Jam, and English women's fashion sense.

I'm against: Uneven cobblestone streets, blustering winds, English Cereal and English dudes fashion sense.

My phone rings, its Justin. It's according to my phone it is 10:00 p.m. EST so its 8:00 pm in Colorado. That means its 3:00 am in England. This quick timezone turnaround leaves me throughly confused and I decide the best course of action is to fall asleep. After another 45 minutes of restless sleep, I give into the jet lag and pick up my London guide to plan out my day.

My plan is to head into to the Westminster river district and take in some history. The guide says Westminster Abbey, the Houses of Parliment, Whitehall and Trafalgar square are all within walking distance of each other. It's Sunday so I hope to hit up some churches while they are free, but other than that I have no agenda.

With no chance of sleep I head downstairs for some breakfast. I take out some of the delicious bread from yesterday and some marmelade and blackcurrant jam. At first bite I rediscover a flavor that I haven't tasted for three years, tart. With all the artificial sugars and preservatives American has killed the delicate perfection of tart. Screw sweettarts they don't even come close.

My mom decides to accompany for my first trip downtown. We mind the gap and get on the underground. In London, virtually everyone takes the underground trains (also known as the tube) everywhere. Many people don't have cars because gas is expensive, traffic is terrible and they charge you to drive inside the city limits. There are a lot of benefits to this system. The envionment benefits from a ton of patrons getting off the road, traffic and noise pollution goes down with it. Additionally people are generally healthier because they walk a hell of a lot to and from tube stations and bus stops. All of this is great for me because there are a lot of fit women in a central location for me to look at all times.

London women, in addition to having incredibly sexy accents have a sophisticated and sassy sense of style. It is like every woman in this city is that super fashionable indie chick that I used to have a crush on. Ladies it looks like flat slippers and tapered jeans and skirts with tights underneath are coming back in a big way. The one thing I don't like are the women who wear boots, they all look like total Tarts (English word for a haggard whore in addition to delicious jam flavor).

We reach our stop and again mind the gap as we leave the train. We climb the stairs and the first thing that I see as I walk out of the station is Big Ben. I literally say "holy shit! Wow!" and stand there with my jaw dropped for about a minute. I am sure I was a prime target for pick pockets at that time but I literally felt like I was in plato's allegory and I had just emerged from a cave for the first time. This moment was like an instantaneous enlightenment, I have never experienced anything quite like that.

My whole life I thought, "Big Ben, so what it's a big clock tower?" Then I saw it up close, the thing is massive, constructed in this incredible victorian gothic style. The stonework is absolutely incredible, there is so much detail in every crevas of this massive massive building. On top of that everything is guilded in gold. The English may have been some oppressive pricks to the world but you got to admit they made a lot of fricking cool buildings. I literally spend about 30 minutes wandering around Big Ben and Westminster Palace (aka the Houses of Parliment) I take about 20 pictures buti doubt any of them will come close to showing how impressive this building looks.

Right next to Westminster Palace is Westminster Abbey. This is the site of every major coronation of the Kings and Queens of England. The Cathedral also looks impressive with fantastic stained glass windows, and sculptures of important saints everywhere. We can't go inside because there is a Sunday service going on so my Mom suggests we go to the nearby Catholic Cathedral. That Cathedral has a gigantic spire dome sticking into the sky that is visable for miles. We walk into the cathedral and I have a similar reaction to seeing Big Ben. Holy crap this thing is large ornate and simply incredible. The Alter is huge and has all the finest marble stone and gold finishings. I look up to the ceiling and notice that it is just gigantic, I also notice that it is pitch black which is odd for a cathedral. Apparently this Cathedral that was originally built in 1890 is only half finished. The incredible thing about this cathedral is that there are about 12 chaples running up and down the sides of the Cathedral. Each chaple has an incredibly impressive alter with amazing paintings, mosaics, and statues honoring the saints. Each individual chapel is probably worth the equivalent of one church in the United States in term of financial investment.

We walk around Westminster and Whitehall a little bit more but I am pretty beat up after the whole 4 am wake up. We decide to turn in and I finish my first day in London amazed by the incredible impact of money and the church.