Pago Pago

In high school, I had a history teacher who once said, "That's what separates you from all the unwashed slobs out there. You can correctly pronounce the capital of Samoa." Since then, I've tried to live by those words.

Granted, at the time these mythical "unwashed slobs" were merely a specter to haunt the psyche of a proto-academic, but several years, two towns, and several jobs later, I've come to internalize these unhygenic masses, which has led me to my current position as a grad student at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. (The necessary exposition for the equally mythic few who read this blog and don't already know me for some reason.) Many seek to tear down the myth of academia as an ivory tower, set away from the rest of the world, dealing with issues that we ourselves construct and which are of no concern to anyone else beyond our walls. I, in turn, embrace wholeheartedly this tale, as it helps me sleep at night, free from the fears of associating with the masses. Who, I am told, are often unwashed.

Now, those of you reading this may come to think of me as pretentious and full of myself. And rightly so. These are points of great pride for me. I revel in the fact that I can pronounce the capital of Samoa. Therefore, in order to correctly interpret my intellectual ramblings in this blog, please always keep in mind two things: 1. I am very pretentious and full of myself, and 2. Nothing I say should be taken seriously, as like any good academic, my keenest insight is my sense of irony and self-deprecation, because deep down we of the Ivory Tower all realize that we're more or less full of it. It's loads of fun, and I'd recommend it highly to those of you out there who, like me, fear the masses and their unsanitary mob mentalities.

Therefore, in this blog I make no promises about what I post, other than it will be often insightful and illuminating, and when it isn't, it will be full of ribald tales of drunken debauchery, which are much more fun than tales of morose drunken solitude. I promise to not post on serious, world-shattering issues, and when I make social commentary and complaints, it will be regarding topics that I, and not the outside world, consider of great import, such as undergraduates' inability to use the elevator correctly, or people who annoy me through their failure to understand simple concepts like getting off a bus or responding properly to an e-mail. These are the concerns that fill my days, and I don't really care one whit what's going on in Washington, or what star is dating some other star, or the state of the world in any event. In the pretentious person's life, the issues that have the greatest impact are those he finds personally annoying or detrimental to his own life, rather than what others tell him he should think about. (My academic cohorts will rightly fix upon my use of the masculine pronoun here, as I am speaking largely of myself. But there are plenty of pretentious women out there as well, so they should feel enabled to switch the pronoun as gender dictates.)

I hold no deep social opinions. I do not consider myself a connoisseur of anything besides American Literature (my field of study), bad movies (watched The Cave last week, which was truly enlightening as to the nature of evil in the Carpethian Mountains), and certain video games (I enjoy Halo and its sequals, but I still feel the video game industry peaked with the original Super Smash Brothers for the N64). My music tastes are prosaic and mainstream, so you'll never see me commenting on the genius of some group of which you have never heard. Though I may wax rhapsodic about the sheer brilliance and innovation of "Take On Me," "Here I Go Again," and other 80s fare. But again, as the pretentious person's world revolves around himself, I feel these issues to be of tantamount importance, and not to be dismissed lightly. Hopefully, you'll agree with me.

Now, the ground rules. As this is a public record, I am stealing liberally from my friend the Bourbon Samurai (link to the right). His blog is truly an innovator and a model for all future blogdom, and I highly recommend it. His one rule, which I appropriate with no shame whatsoever, is to never use actual names for anything, as actual names are highly google-able. Everyone mentioned will have a nickname, used to protect both the innocent and the guilty (especially the guilty). I personally go by "Dubs" as it is a gross bastardization of my initials, derived from "BW" and then "B-Dubs," as my college friends who originated it were extremely lazy sods.

So please, if you comment, complain, or otherwise offer criticism to the blog (the academic's simultaneous lifeblood and greatest fear), please remember not to use your real name or my own. If you have a nickname you prefer, use it; otherwise I'll make one up for you with little regard or thought.

Happy reading, and if you're bored, check out the links to the left. They are my friends from several states, and often more insightful or more drunken than my own. Well, mainly more drunken, as they have actual jobs and actual money.

And if you're still in the dark, "Pago Pago" is pronounced as if each "a" is a long vowel and there was an "n" before each "g" in the name, for reasons I have yet to learn. There. Wash your hands, and you too will no longer be an unwashed slob.