Information, FUCK YEAH!

Had a conversation a couple nights ago in a bar with a few poets about the difference between information and knowledge. One of the poets, a professor at Georgetown, posits that his students don't have the training needed to correctly analyze poems. I believe it's got nothing to do with education: They have the Internet. All this knowledge. Ask me a question and I'll answer it with the stroke of a google query. So, what they think of as analysis pales in comparison to his experience of poring through a pile of musky texts. It's the old when-I-was-a-kid card.

But... beyond his whining, I will concede that all this information does not beget knowledge -- though I'd also posit that actual analysis does not necessarily beget knowledge either. Knowledge comes with years of trial and error. Keep the process going and eventually it will go from shallow to deep, deep, deep, deep, deeeeeeeeep. I can't wait to see Amazon in 50 years. I'll remember when customer-generated content was new and edgy. Aww, retroactive nostalgia, how I love thee.

Have a great weekend, and don't forget to go to a WIT show if you live in DC. Or, better yet, take a class.

Nevermore
Spent some time on Saturday at the National Museum of the American Indian. I'd forgotten my childhood fascination with the Raven. The trickster. The friend of Poe. The smartest damn bird alive. Dude's are killer smart. And a little creepy. But they can fly. Which is cool.

Other Thoughts This Weekend
You can't change minds until you've made up your own. Don't you get the feeling the person preaching to you about a faith or a new product isn't actually sure about it themselves?

Also, just a thought. But liberals need to stop being so secular. Get rid of Cindy Sheehan as the poster child for the anti-war movement. Instead, lets use a triptych of Vishnu, Jesus and the Dalai Lama. Stop the war cause otherwise you will be eternally damned to play a game of Texas Hold’em with these guys. And they will kick your butt.

Good Things
My friend Jordan threw a Big Lebowski costume party on Saturday night. It was fantastic. A great excuse to hang out with a bunch of guys, drink beer and act goofy. I guess that's a lot like going to the bars. Just the lighting wasn't so dark and the majority of the guys were straight.

It's a Humid Heat
I'm in Orlando and it's chilly and cloudy. Where's the magic?

I'm convinced Orlando doesn't want me here. Things that happened the moment I walked into my hotel:
1. The first room I was given was already occupied. The guest was watching NASCAR.
2. The second room I was given had no Internet access.
3. I was "upgraded" to a larger room for my "problems." The room was identical to the first two rooms except it had a love chair instead of a recliner. Neato.

I haven't seen any homeless people since I've gotten to Orlando. That reminds me of a comment one of my friends in the Dominican Republic said after coming back from a trip to the U.S., "There are no children in America. I didn't see one child in the road."