twincityhacker: hands in an overcoat's pockets (I'll get there)
Sophie and I went to the Irish Lion. She had a Guinness, I had a hard cider, and we both had a bit of each. The cider tasted good, the Guinness, not so much.

We chatted over drinks about this or that, for two hours, and when we were polishing up our drinks a nice public defender wanted to buy us drinks. We weren't at first, because she was driving and I weigh 120 soaking wet, but we ended up getting two orange juices and talking about his work and the pub and Bloomington in general.

The Irish Lion is the ragged edge of the "respectable" Bloomington. Going east, it's college campus, boutiques, and generally nice places. The west, it's shady, and where most of the murders and drug dealing happens. Next to the bar used to be the train tracks, so there was a literal right side/wrong side dynamic going on.

The pub itself used to be a bar/whorehouse, with the bottom floor being a bar where the railroad men could cash their paychecks and the top being the rooms were the prostitutes plied their trade. The bar next door, The Crazy Horse, was more or less a straight up brothel. The area was called "The Levy" in both senses of the term: the dividing line between goodness and deceit, and where people tried to get a cut of the paycheck they just cashed.

The guy was slightly bitter, as he was getting ready to defend a man for murder. Recently, the police had found the bones of man who had been missing for some time. A few years ago a more affluent family had their daughter kidnapped and the town was crawling with FBI agents. And other things.

The public defender wanted to buy us a drink, because he had a relativity good day and wanted to share the karma. And probably put a little good karma out as he sounded ready to bitchslap one of his clients for being a moron and that if he didn't give something better than the BS he'd be going to jail for a minimum of 25 years.

And he said good something about Jasper, that the people there mostly did things as they should. Bloomington is good on the surface with lots of poverty and a much larger homeless population that would be expected.

A good day - educational, fun, and illustrating how very lucky I am.
twincityhacker: hands in an overcoat's pockets (Eat my rubber foam axe!)
Man beaten for over twenty-four hours and left to die in a southern Indiana field. In April

The brilliant defense by the attackers, who filmed themselves beating Aaron Hall, was that they were in a 'gay panic'.

No one picked up on this except the local papers, and even then it took two months to just get to Bloomington, which is a whopping 90 miles away.

Crothersville is about 60 miles from Jasper.
twincityhacker: hands in an overcoat's pockets (Otto Hahn and Lise Meitner)
Little did I know, my time in Jasper was a social experiemnt. One that would, admiitidly, be in the running for a Ig Noble prize as mucking about with your life is not a v. good idea, no matter how much you want to see the results.

Anyway, the conclusion has just came forth to-day. My hypothosis was that if I did not get attached to the place, refuse to put down even the smallest root, I would not be sad to leave.

To-day I have proved my hypothis false, without a doubt. I am not particuarly attached to the people, nor to the buildings or the grounds or the culture. Yet I am still gut-wrenchingly sad to leave.

It only took three years to run the experiment, and another year to get the results. But I think, in the shape of things, it was an worthy experiment to run though never, ever an experiemnt to be replicated.

I would put the exact circumstances of the final results, but... I've already made multiple scenes today and I don't feel like making another one right now.
twincityhacker: hands in an overcoat's pockets (Minnasota Nice)
Yesterday, I realized that this would be the last time I'd be in Jasper - at least, in this house. Mom's passing papers on April 26th, so she's be packing up and moving while I'm in Bloomington. I'm relived and happy about this as no matter how much I hate the entire moving process, I am assured that I cannot get trapped in Jasper.

But on the other hand, no matter how much I have thought Jasper as a purgatorial experience, I'm going to miss this town. If just the fact that there is no way that the powerplant in the next town is goning to be that pretty.

In other, less depressing news, remember how my laptop refused to turn on? Kilroy has joined the choir invisible and is having it's hardrive back up so I can get my C files back.

We all made a trip out to Staples to go get some other supplies, as to look at the stock that they had there, and I fell in love at first sight with an Acer Aspire series. I named her Teresa, she runs Vista and runs pretty sweet.

The worst thing so far is that the speakers are on the edge of computer that sits into my lap. But the other incidentals I have on here - like the clock widget that I've set up to keep GMT.

So...

Aug. 20th, 2006 07:29 pm
twincityhacker: hands in an overcoat's pockets (the dramas of a light tech)
Snakes on a Plane. I went in with my $3.50 to see Samuel L. Jackson and lots of snakes. I ended up with all of that plus a fairly good movie. Except for the occasinal incidnece of gore that I could do without, but hey, I'm just not a fan of cinenamatic gore.

spoliers )

But the most surpising thing about the film was that it had a fairly good score.

Though the tittle sequence with the guy on the bike just riding and ridding, I thought that I had acciedently walked into a remake of "Manos": The Hands of Fate, and thought that it would be dark soon, and then there would be no escape. Then I mentaly slapped myself and saw with releif that the credits was over.

And, I did look up what was playing at the Drive-In, which is located localy in Rockford. (When I say "local" I mean it's located 40 min. away.) The doubble bill was Snakes on a Plane and Clerks 2. I'm not sure whether I wanted to see Clerks 2 or not so I just went to the Jasper 8 instead.
twincityhacker: hands in an overcoat's pockets (Father Ted)
This morning, the senior class was hered into the audiotorrium for a talked at session, where it was made abundently clear that if someone comes to school in an "innaproprate condition" the next few days, they'll be barred from school and not alowed to go though comencement.

This innappropriate condition, meaning drunk, which he never actually said the words "don't come to school drunk." This, I suppose, also means not comming to scholl high, though he only mentioned the breathlyzer. And not comming to scholl smelling like "a campfire" as out in the woods with a bonfire is the most popluar form of drinking amoung the underage set.

Though as this does not relate to drinking, it does realate with conditions. Namely, if you know at least three girls in your senior class is pregant out of 295, what does this say about where you live?

And as it turns out, Dubious County has more people in the armed servies per captia (of palces of comparable size) in the entire frelling country. Or at least, that's what the fine folks at West Point when they took one of the classes jackasses off of Jasper's hands. Honestly? I hope the place crushes him. A lot.

Mood: busy
twincityhacker: hands in an overcoat's pockets (Lethso)
When I was practicing my driving today, I decied to find all the diffrent factories in town.

There are, belive it or not quite a few - Jasper Chair, Jasper Cabient, Jasper Seating, Jasper Desk, Kimbal, Jasper Wood Products, Jasper Engines and Transmissions, Masterbrand and the one I didn't know was a factory. There could be more factories than I know of. And only two or are former factories. One is Jasper Cabient, and the other I didn't even know was a factory untill today since their renting it out as a wareshouse and it's covered will adversiesments.

But the coolest building today wasn't a factory, but the town's power plant. It's modern 50's, and looks cool. Now, if I can only take a picture of it without people thinking I'm a terrorist.

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