Alright, I actually don't daylog, this is my first. I don't even read them. Still, I can't think of an existing node to put it in or a suitable title. What I really mean is that I feel guilty for daylogging.

Wow, this self-indulgence stuff is neat. I feel better already.


I happen to live about four blocks away from my college. It takes me about 15 minutes to walk there, which I do four days a week. My route also takes me past my old High School, and herein comes my point. I went to this school when it was new, so I know what it's supposed to look like under all the litter and graffiti. Don't get my wrong, litter sucks. If you can't take responsibility for your packaging, you shouldn't have whatever was in it. My point is about graffiti. Sort of.

I have nothing against graffiti, reclaiming the commons is all double-plus-good in my book. In many cases, I like graffiti. I am interested in what the twelve-year-olds are writing about each other on bus benches, it makes me feel connected with the youth of today. Maybe I'm crazy. Probably, I'm crazy. Anyway, today I saw something downright cool.

So I happened to be passing ye olde secondarye schooleee this damp sunday. I went to this school, and I know how sucky it is for anyone who isn't a mindless boring turd on legs. Still, it seems that the youth of today1 are cleverer and more ambitious than we ever were. The closest thing we had was that day where a bunch of drama students pretended to die during second period so they'd have an excuse to shame people for not sending money to starving Ethiopians or something.

What, you have been asking for the last three paragraphs, did I see? Zombies, baby. I don't know if it's because Hallowe'en's a-coming and there's groovy zombie movies out or it's a clever kind of artistic statement about consumerism, morality, imperialism and biological ethics. I like to think it's all of the above. I know we never thought to smear fake blood all over the place, break windows and pretend to fucking eat Mr. Greaves' brains out on sunday morning.

We wouldn't have, anyway. We would have got in trouble. Maybe there is hope for the younger generation yet, eh?

1 Okay, they are, like, four or five years younger than me. Still. I'm an old man. I'm twenty fricking two. Jeez.