I'm Alive!

Sorry- I was trapped in a hole. I am out, but my eyes will take weeks to adjust to sunlight.

- Lunn Dunningland

In case you wanted to know...

Oh and by the way, i think the Sweden video is working again.

Rock and Roll and Toilet Bowls

Well, the new band has officially made £5.98 ($11.72) from our first gig playing in the shopping centre of Kingston, London. Of course, this doesn't count the £3.60 Laura and I spent on buses getting there, or the celebratory £1.09 ice cream we bought afterwards. According to my calculations, we will only have to play 930 more gigs to raise enough for our Europe Trip, and only 504 gigs if we scrap the ice creams.

In other news, I am getting kicked out of my dorm for some conference and I have to move to another dorm about a half mile away. Good times. Hopefully the new one will have better plumbing- but I doubt it. For being so much geographically closer to the Romans, England sure has some work to do in the doo-doo department.

Take for example the oddly-shaped commode in my dormitory (photo at right). You can't really tell from the picture, but it is built in such a way that it becomes a quite effective blowhorn, letting everyone in the tri-borough area know what you had for dinner last night.

Also, the sinks: the whole "one spigot hot, one spigot cold" thing has got to go, especially when one is scalding hot and the other has chunks of ice flowing out. Is it too much to ask to have one warm one in the middle? You leave me no choice- I shall boycott washing my hands until the problem is solved. Take that!

Lastly, and this is getting really picky, but there never seem to be any trash bins in the bathrooms. If I am going to boycott clean hands, I better have a nice place to put all of my germy tissues.

And that is about it for now. I am starting to wrap up my time here (only seven school days left). I hope everyone is doing well, and I apologize for wasting your time talking about bathrooms.

- L.Dunn

THING I FORGOT TO BRING TO ENGLAND: CNN.com. Well, at least I intend to leave it here when I go back to the states.

FUNNY THING BITS SAY WRONGLY: I am currently teaching a music unit, and I found out the hard way that Brits don't use Quarter or Eighth notes, but "Crochets" and "Quavers." Which is totally an awesome name for a band.

How Have You Managed Without An Update On My Life?

Hi everyone. I feel a little like an absentee father. I included some extra money in your birthday card.

My ladyfriend and I have found ourselves in a little bit of a conundrum (she's homeless, I'm poor) but we have managed to find a solution (and our calling in life). Instead of drowning our sorrows away with wine, why not play the wine glasses on the street corner and make loads of money? Brilliant, eh?

I will let you know how it goes. In the meantime, if anyone has a good idea for a killer band name, send it our way.

- Lunn Dunningland

How British I Am!

Listen- hear that sound? Oh, wait, you don't hear anything right now. That's because the rest of the campus is off for summer holiday! No longer will I be serenaded by the sweet sounds of peeing and puking and doing coke below my bedroom window each Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night.

Now before you start thinking I am a big ol' fuddy duddy and holing myself up in my room away from any cultural experiences, just listen to how British I am:

- I own an Amy Winehouse CD.
- I know how to correctly use the term "cheers."
- I have begun to develop a sense of superiority over the Irish.
- I yell at my students.
- I eat Polish candy bars like every day (you can't go two blocks without passing a Polish corner store).
- I don't look at people as I pass them on the sidewalk.
- I eat potatoes like every meal.
- I mind the gap.
- I understand the differences between Great Britain, Wales, the United Kingdom, and England.

Just kidding on the last one. . . which means I can add "I have a friggin amazing sense of subtle and absurd humor." WOO-YUP!!!

- L. Dunningland

Cricket Is Rubbish

I spent the entirety of today chaperoning my primary school's cricket team as they competed in the city tournament. Not knowing one thing about cricket before the day started, I knew I was in for an educational experience. This is what I learned- cricket is rubbish. This is why:

1. It is named “Cricket,” which sounds like a Midwesterner trying to pronounce Croquet, also a total crap game.

2. Remember when playing kickball, how you'd always have those twits who would bunt, knowing that it was like an automatic single (Ben Burwell, aged 9, I'm looking in your direction)? Well, that is essentially how you can score in Cricket- you hit the ball to any of the 8 or so huge gaping holes surrounding you. You don't even have to run- the referee will give it to you. Which brings me to my next point...

3. In fact, nobody ever really does a whole lot of running. Or physical activity, really.

4. The people who really care about it are still bald, past-their-prime jocks. Given the above reasons, this seems even more pitiful.

5. Because of some archaic scoring system (didn't they learn anything from tennis?), you don't know who won the game until it is over and the scorekeeper finishes tallying everything, which takes about 6-8 weeks.

Mostly, I am upset because our team lost in the championship.

- Lunn

THING I FORGOT TO BRING TO ENGLAND: Respect for other cultures.

FUNNY THING BITS SAY WRONGLY: In an totally interesting fluke of linguistics, when British kids are explaining anything, they will say "yeah?" at the end of every sentence. It's sort of like a little check up- "Does that make sense/You with me?" kind of thing. One example:

Me: Hey you! Charles! Stop talking or I'll lock you in the closet!
Student: I do say, that would be simply poppycock! I dare ask, why, kind sir?
Me: You were fighting with Fredrick VIII.
Student: Nuh uh! Mr. Wilkinson [they still don't know my name]! We were playing, yeah? And I like walked by him, yeah? And I tripped into him, yeah? And he pushed me, yeah?

Kind of exactly like that.

The Trouble With Books

The trouble with books is that you begin to think that, like the events in the story, your own life is also a beautifully crafted rollercoaster, jam packed with symbolism and allegory. That barista who keeps looking at the clock- is she a reminder of death? That coin you found on the street- a symbol of your lost heritage? Pretty soon, you start thinking that you are the star in some existentialist novel and you get really self-centered and start your own blog.

In other news, today I went to Starbucks and I didn't understand the whole "take your drink when they call it out" system (I'm a foreigner) and instead of my medium Americano, I ended up with someone else's fancy latte with about an inch and a half of caramel at the bottom.

- Lunn Dunningland

Sweden, Part Two

Hi Folks. Your pal Lunn D here. It's the end of the week, and as I promised, some visual stimulation for you regarding my trip to Sweden. But first, I told you a little about Sweden and Kiruna a couple of days ago, but I didn't talk about some of my most important discoveries:

1. Swedish kids all wear NY Yankees hats cocked to the side. Like EVERYONE does this- high schoolers, middle schoolers, second graders. It seems that the hip hop movement really speaks to these kids, who are most certainly going to pimp out their dogsled as soon as possible.

2. Stockholm is a very dope city. It's an archipelago, which means that when you tell people about it, you can say, "It's an archipelago." And then there will be this awkward pause while the listener goes back to fourth grade and imagines that diagram from their geography book, and then they remember what an archipelago is, and then they are like, "Oh, cool!" That's about it for Stockholm.

3. During the summer, pretty much all of Sweden has the whole "Midnight Sun" thing, which is amazing. Not seeing darkness for days or weeks on end does wonders for your energy and general well-being. In fact, if you are ever feeling like committing suicide, I strongly recommend checking out Kiruna first. The round-the-clock sun will most likely cheer you right up, and if not, there are tons of great little nature-y nooks where no one will ever find your body (not that they will be looking, or even notice that you're gone...)

4. Perhaps in a statement of resistance against the stereotype, tons and tons of Swedish girls dye their hair jet black. And, yep, there goes their status as the hottest people in Europe. They'll be back...oh yes, they'll be back...

Now, I hope you enjoy my little film. The ol' Flip Camera doesn't take the highest quality images, so the whole place looks rather unspectacular, but you'll have to take my word on it. Have a wonderful Friday!

Supposedly, some folks can't see the movie...I'll see what I can do.

- Lunn

THING I FORGOT TO BRING TO ENGLAND: Enough socks

FUNNY THING BRITS SAY WRONGLY: Sneakers/kicks/shoes are called "plimsolls," which most certainly sounds like something to do with the elderly.

Barack 'n' Roll! [working title]

Hey everyone! Sorry that I have been so flaky lately about this whole "being connected 24 hours a day" thing. I've been a little busy. Also, people have been asking about pictures from my Sweden trip, and I promise I will put up some video this weekend.

But I just couldn't resist talking about a little politics today! This was today's front page in the local trashy daily The Sun. The paper is awful (some other headlines: Lotto Perv Made Girl Have Sex As Her Rent and the daring expose' Soldiers Risk Life Yet Earn Less Than A Traffic Warden ... you should see the diagram for THAT story), but I was very interested in what it would say about my buddy Barack.

The story, titled Barack To The Future, was pretty straight forward, and was obviously written by some freshman on a laptop. It also mentions that Obama was "previously unknown [until he] ignited his mission for the White House with a barnstorming speech in South Carolina in January." Who knew??

Nevertheless, I was excited to read about my buddy. I was also excited to read this gem of an article from another blog. It's from February and called The Chicago Dillusion, boldly claiming that (are you ready?) Obama (who by February must have moved up to "slightly well-known") will win the nomination but lose in the general election! Oh, but the acute political insight doesn't end there! In fact, the author says that Obama is the perfect symbol of Chicago because he is so contradictory and delusional. Want proof??

A practicing Christian, he bears a Muslim name. Identifying himself as an African-American, Obama is the offspring of a man from Kenya and a woman from Kansas. A self-proclaimed son of Chicago, he attended school overseas and spent most of his childhood in Hawaii, the last state, the state that doesn't appear on most maps.

They also forgot "He says he loves America, yet he also says he loves his family," and "Was running for Democratic nominee, now says he's running for President."

Gotta love it!

- Lunn

p.s. Can I start "e-beef" with another blog?? Is that possible?? If so, I want to do it.

p.p.s. I got a job yesterday! Sixth Grade Social Studies at Lusher Charter School, New Orleans Louisiana. Be proud of me!

Kiruna Tourism

Hallå from Sweden! I'm sure you all have been worried sick about your dear ol' pal Lunn. Well fear not, dearest readers, I am alive and well. Extra well, in fact, because I have spent the last week or so in Sweden. Aside from my photo-op with the Swedish Swim Team (right), not a whole lot has happened, and that was perfectly fine with me.


I arrived in Kiruna (say it "kee roo NA!") after a lovely trip up to top of Sweden. The city was very cute, even with snow on the ground. It is a town of about 18,000 fine folks who speak Swedish and English (though whenever I would ask them, "TAHlar deux ENgleska?" they really seemed to think it was funny to answer some form of "yes" in Swedish, forcing me to once again ask if they talar deux engeska'd.)

Kiruna was built around this monstrosity of a thing: an iron-ore mine that you can see from everywhere in the city. It's the stereotypical "well, that there mine is our lives!" kind of scenario. People love it. The mine gives tours and brags about how much it has done to help the community, and the mine's first boss is basically seen as the founder of the city. And in the end, the mine won't just be creating one city, but two! How so, you ask?? Well, because of something called "subsidence" from the mine, the whole town is tipping over and needs to get re-located like a mile northwest. Kiruna v2.0 will even include a brand spanking new artificial lake, which I'm sure will also be named after the mine boss.

But whatever Kirunans may lack in environmental stewardess, they make up for in braggadocio. Their tourist office is full of pamphlets about the wonders of Kiruna. One pamphlet even asks the question "Could the LKAB [the mine] be considered one of the Wonders of the World?" Hey, it's not telling, it's just asking.
But it doesn't end there. The official Kiruna fact pamphlet Cold Facts About Kiruna states that, and I quote: "An idea was born that became far and away the most successful tourist concept of all time, the IceHotel."

Now, I don't have any official statistics, but I'm just wondering: is The IceHotel- a hotel constructed out of ice each November and melts in April, really "far and away" the most successful tourist trap? I mean, OF COURSE it is #1. That is no question. But "far and away"? Take a look at what rounds out the list, and see what you think:

MOST SUCCESSFUL TOURIST CONCEPTS OF ALL TIME:

1. The IceHotel, Sweden
2. The Hajj, Mecca
3. Those "Somebody who loves me went to ______ and all I got was this lousy T-shirt" stands
4. Shopping Malls, many locations, mostly in New Jersey
5. Prostitution, Mesopotamia
6. NASA, The Moon
7. Having Spices, Far East
8. Riverfest, Beloit, Wisconsin
9. White Flight, USA
10. Wall Drug, South Dakota


Any thoughts? Ok, this post is getting far too lengthy. I may try to continue it later. Have a wonderful evening, everyone!

- Lunn

THING I FORGOT TO BRING TO SWEDEN: A charged phone.

FUNNY THING SWEDES SAY WRONGLY: Basically everything.

Icarus Descends

Today I went into the borough of Wimbledon to find me some backpacking supplies (I am going to Sweden tomorrow). On the way back (from Wimbledon, not Sweden), I got myself lost a little. The sun came out for a little bit, and all was well. Little did I know the horrors in store for me...

As I passed a halfway house, I heard a rustling directly above me. I looked up and saw that a squirrel was playing on the branches of a very tall tree.

The longer I looked at the squirrel (whom I have christened Icarus), the more I noticed that her playing habits didn't look particularly playful. In fact, Icarus wasn't really playing; she was hanging on the branch for her dear life. Within seconds, I realized that Icarus wasn't going to be able to hold on much- oh wait, now she is falling.

The next four thoughts went like this:

1. Oh shit, that squirrel is going to fall on me.
2. If it falls on me, I am going to get bitten and have rabies.
3. If it doesn't fall on me, it is going to fall like 20 feet (6.096 metres) onto the sidewalk.
4. I am going to post this on my blog.

Now, all of these thoughts occurred within a fraction of a second, but nevertheless, by Thought #2, I was running away as fast as I could. And by this time, thought #3 took over and although I didn't actually turn back to save Icarus from her impending doom, I put my fingers in my ears mid-stride. Nevertheless, I will never be able to get the sound of Icarus' impact out of my head- it sounded like whacking a brick with a dull hammer.

I stopped my run (by now I was like 15 feet away) and thought for a little bit. My next thoughts were:

1. It didn't fall on me. That's good.
2. It hit the sidewalk. That's bad. I killed it.
3. Maybe I won't post this on my blog, as I am an evil organism.
4. I should look.
5. No, I should keep walking.
6. No, I will look.

And look I did. I was expecting to see something resembling Kosovo behind me, but all I saw was Icarus looking very stunned and very short. We both just stood there (well, Icarus kind of laid there, to be exact) and then Icarus limped away. Now, I am pretty positive that Icarus has since gone to meet her maker, but I am going to ward off this Catholic guilt by pretending she is alive and posting the experience on her blog as we speak.

- Lunn D.

Take A Break From The War On Terror For One Moment And Look At These Ducks

Hello everyone. This is a video of some ducks (Or perhaps geese. Hell, it might even be swans.) There is a cute family of birds who live in the pond in my backyard. Unfortunately, at press time, the ducks have since hit their awkward adolescence stage, and are no longer cute.

I'm aware that this entry isn't particularly eventful, but neither is my day.

This. is. your. BIRTHDAY BLOG!

Happy Birthday to my main squeeze, L! Thank you for being born, and thank you for being in Utah, completely freeing me from any obligation to buy or mail you a present. I like you!

- L

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAL!!!!

This Saturday was Frigby- the yearly football (like soccer but with less parental involvement) game between my college, the Froebel Zebras (pronounced "ZEBB rahs"), and the sister college, the Digby Lions (pronounced "LEE owns." Just kidding). And that is why is it called Frigby. Get it? Its a combination of the two. Froebel and Digby. Frigby.

This was my first ever real life game of football that I ever watched, but I still feel like I can tell that the players were crappy. I was also in somewhat of a sour mood because it is tradition
that all the fans bring waterguns and water balloons to soak each other before, during, and after the game. This would have been fine, except it is also tradition that it is always fucking rainy and cold in England.

To add to the expletives, the two schools have some very interesting chants and songs that they love to sing before, during, and after the game. I could join in, too, because someone near me gave me a cheat sheet. Here are some of my favorites- parental discretion is advised:

When I was just a boy
I asked my mother what would I be
Would I be Digby? Would I be Froebel?
Here's what she said to me:
Wash your mouth out son
And go get your father's gun
And shoot all the digby scum
Shoot the Digby scum!

----

They're Black, They're White, They're Fucking DYNAMITE
ZEBRAS! ZEBRAS!
It must be said, they're fucking good in bed
ZEBRAS! ZEBRAS!
And we all know, cuz we've all had a go
ZEBRAS! ZEBRAS!
They're yellow, they're blue, they smell of wee and poo
DIGBY! DIGBY!

----

(To the tune of The Battle Hymn of the Republic)
Digby Girls have got Cystitis
Digby Girls have got Cystitis
Digby Girls have got Cystitis
And crabs all in their pubes!

----

And that, as they say, is that. Never again can you complain about "Rock and Roll Part Two." Oh, and by the way, Froebel lost in double overtime 3-2. We just didn't chant "When I say DIGBY, you say CUNTS" quite loud enough.

- Lunn

THING I FORGOT TO BRING TO ENGLAND: A raincoat. But I wouldn't have worn one anyway.

FUNNY THING BRITS SAY WRONGLY: A pharmacist is a "chemist." I learned this after a cystitis scare.

"Blue" Whales- How Do We REALLY Know What Color They Are?

[For those of you who aren't actually in or around my immediate family, you probably won't find this post funny. However, you may find it informative.]

So there seems to be this highly important discussion going on amongst my family regarding the size of an average Blue Whale, the largest animal (by weight and volume) on Earth. And that is not even the largest animal currently on Earth- Ol' Bluey is the largest animal ever on Earth. For real.

You might be fooled by this past paragraph. First of all, you might think that my family is very smart for discussing things of this sort. You'd be sorely mistaken. Secondly, you might begin to think that the Blue Whale is larger than it actually is. We all remember the old diagram with a whale on top of a school bus or two or three and think, "Well, I suppose a Blue Whale is probably around...oh...say...a mile and a half long." On this, you'd only be half right. Little Ben has said that "This Blue Whale thing has gotten out of control" because people (namely me and my dad) tend to overestimate the length of these creatures.

Knowing that most of my millions of daily readers are probably highly educated, elitist liberals, I challenge y'all to a quiz. Just how big is the biggest animal ever to swim the Earth?

At scales this large, the metric system and [whatever we call the measuring system in the US] both fail to accurately portray a feasible number, so we will resort to measuring in elephants. So what do you think? Is a Blue Whale two elephants long? Three? Five? Nine? Fifteen? Thirty Seven? A hundred and fifty? CLICK BELOW TO FIND OUT!!!!




- Lunn

Stabbing Is The New Carrying A Puppy In Your Purse

LONDON, England (AP) -- A surge in violent knife crimes has prompted London police to introduce a new program that will rely on mobile, airport-style scanners and hand-held metal detectors for use against people suspected of carrying concealed weapons. A similar scheme was introduced in the northern city of Liverpool last year.

The new program, called Blunt 2, started this week in one borough and should be in place in all 32 London boroughs within the next few months, said a Metropolitan Police spokesman, who asked not to be identified in line with police rules.

WikiWikiWikiWhat!

I am having a pretty extreme case of the ol' blogger's block, as the kids are calling it these days. Speaking of kids these days, did you know that the kids in my class don't use Wikipedia? I mean, it's not even banned- they just don't use it. I find this pretty fascinating, because it seems like everyone in the USA is completely dependent on it, myself included. I'm pretty sure it is the best invention ever. I mean, what did the printing press ever do? Well, let's just have a looksee on Wikipedia. . . Oh, nevermind- it did a lot.

- Lunn

...And, by popular demand...
THING I FORGOT TO BRING TO ENGLAND: More money.

NUMBER OF TIMES ALMOST DEAD DUE TO "WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD" THING: Dude you don't even KNOW how good I am at this whole street thing. Consider this category terminated.

FUNNY THING BRITS SAY WRONGLY: An eraser is known as a "rubber." I kid you not. Try keeping a straight face the next time a little kid shouts out "Does anyone have a rubber? I need a rubber!"

Happy Mum's Day

Wouldn't you know it? England doesn't celebrate Mother's Day- they do celebrate something called "Mothering Sunday" in March, but it's not quite the same. Did you know that you Americans' Mother's Day was a thing honoring moms whose kids died in battle? In that case, sorry mom, you didn't earn anything this year. Maybe next. Nevertheless, I hope you have a wonderful brunch that you probably made anyway.

Apples

Being that Friday night I was kept awake by people peeing and puking outside of my window (the Friday Campus Bop this week was themed "American High School" and everyone was supposed to dress up like cheerleaders and American Football players. And act like morons.), I wanted to escape the whole "people" thing and go sit in the park. I staked out a spot in the middle of Richmond Park (those of you who are die-hard readers of this here blog [Laura] might remember that Richmond Park is this massive few square miles of deer and awesomeness]).

Being that I am an expert on deer micro-migration, I saw that the huge herd of like 8 million deer were facing one way, so I went up about 1/2 mile and staked (stook?) out a spot beside a fallen tree. There I sat, book in hand, Jonny Greenwood in ear, and waited. Within hours, I was surrounded by a big old herd of rather scruffy-looking deer. That is, until the Apple Couple came.

Being that I too was in the park and very fascinated with the deer, I couldn't totally complain that my Thoreau moment was interrupted by these two 30-something lovers taking a stroll towards the herd. But it was seriously cramping my style- the deer all stopped what they were doing (eating grass, or course) and started moving away from the Apple Couple. Undeterred, the Apple Couple then headed towards the deer, this time with more speed. And wouldn't you know it? The deer started getting a little more nervous.

Being that they were called the Apple Couple, the Apple Couple then had a brilliant plan to lure the deer towards them- they threw apples at the deer! Unfortunately, the deer mistook this gesture of kindness for a human throwing a fucking projectile at them, and they ran away. And did this finally teach the Apple Couple a lesson on animal watching? Of course not! The male of the Apple Couple then walked further into the field, picked up the apples, and threw them again! By this time, the deer had scattered everywhere, leaving a large deerless patch in the park for me and the Apple Couple, who by now had resigned to laying down on a blanket and making out.

And again, a guy in the back says, "Is this art?"

This past weekend, while going through my usual stack of hundreds of pounds of fan mail, I came upon a lovely e-mail from my dear friend Emily, who politely informed me that Banksy, the most famous stenciler/graffiti artist ever, and other not-as-famous stencilers/graffiti artists ( believe it or not, artists 8-BALL and BABYGURL and JESUS SAVES are not household names yet, despite their dedication to the art of graffiti) would all be converting a disgusting London train station into a work of art over the course of the weekend. This, among other reasons, is why Emily is my friend.

I went to the event and it was way cool. The video is kind of long (almost an entire New Pornographer's song) but i think it shows some of the cool stuff on the walls.

Other than that, I don't have much to report. The weather has been amazing all week, and everyone keeps saying to lap it up, because it won't be here long.

I am currently planning a trip in late May to Northern Sweden (like the mutha f'in' Arctic Circle) to see the sun at midnight. As my dear old dad would say, if there's one thing in life that I wish I could do, it would be to see the sun at midnight. That, or take a glass-blowing class. Or read National Geographic. You get the idea.

Big Rocks And Big Baths

I was really excited this week, because my colleagues and I booked a bus tour to go to Stonehenge. But then when I found out that Stonehenge is not Easter Island I was less excited and more embarrassed.

Even with the obnoxious highway running way too close to the monument, Stonehenge was pretty cool. We then got back on the bus and drove to the city of Bath (rhymes with "goth"). Bath was home to some hot springs back in the day, so when the Romans conquered England they set up this pretty incredible public bath as a way to...um...pay homage...to....Minerva! That's it- Minerva! She sure could use a shrine! ... Of course, this was a way for Roman Englishmen to say "Honey, I'm off to pray to Minerva" which really meant "Me and the boys are gonna get naked and talk about the latest news of The Empire."

So a Day at the Baths would be something like this:

1. Take off your toga (I don't actually know if they wore togas) and give it to your slavechild.
2. Sit in a sauna, heated by the hot-ass spring water running underneath the floor.
3. Get dirt and oil scraped off by a eunuch with a blunt blade (evidently this was pre-loofas).
4. Go into a hot tub.
5. Probably hook up with your slavechild, but they didn't mention that in the tour.
6. Go into a warm pool, socialize.
7. Go into a cold tub, swear.
8. Put your toga back on, give your slavechild a tip and a wink.
9. Go home and get killed by a Viking.

...And it rained again.

It's raining here like it's going out of style. I officially wasted 7 seconds of your life. Now you, too, can be miserable.

- Lunn

Oh Yeah, Teaching!

Now, since everyone and their mom keeps asking about this supposed "school" I am "teaching" at, I will give everyone the DL on SJL (Thats what they call the school I'm teaching at). First and foremost, the kids are way smart. And way polite. And have way funny accents. They are basically a more evolved race of beings.

Speaking of races, boy have we got 'em. My class is like pretty evenly split between folks from the Middle East, Somalia, Ghana, Eastern Europe (the good side), and India. On the playground before school, many of the kids' parents hang out on the playground, and it is really cool to see the diversity, hear the different languages, and pretend you understand what people are saying when they talk to you. I only speak English (and, of course, Smiles) so I kind of feel like a chump. You'd think the school would embrace this diversity like slimey politicians (that is, before politicians realized that we still don't like them colored folk), but in reality there is quite a paucity of anything reflecting the school's multiculturalism. No flags from all over the world, no "Happy Ramadan" poster (its always Ramadan somewhere, right?) even though they constantly make reference to Church of England Holidays, not even a friggin' Ghandi painting. It is all very interesting, especially coming from a place like Madison which proudly exclaims "Nuh uh! We've got black folks, too!" at every opportunity.

My very first day, there was an assembly (They have assemblies every single day. Today's was a very unremarkable speech about Bullying...) and this assembly was dedicated to singing. They would play the song through these huge speakers, put the words up on the wall, and the kids would wail away. The first song was a cute one called "Something Inside So Strong"which was a pretty cool kind of Black Power song from the anti-apartheid movement (this is when I was tricked into thinking the school was gonna embrace that kind of stuff). Of course, they just sang the song and didn't give any sort of background on the song.

However, the next song needed no introduction: Nickelback's wretched "How You Remind Me." Evidently the Wednesday singing assembly consists of the gym teacher playing songs from his iPod and having the kids sing along. Seriously. I'm not making this up. The next song was Green Day's "Time of your Life." And the assembly was concluded by "Karma Chamelion." But before you hate, you have to realize what it is like to get all tingly from a big ol' group of immigrants rocking out to Culture Club. Who needs their culture anyway? My highlight was when one of the teachers (who reminds me so much of Deb Klein) kept her class after so that they could all dance. It was then that I knew I loved them both.


Other than that, the school is pretty similar in a lot of ways to any inner-city US school: Huge focus on cramming for the Big Test (I'm not even allowed to teach for the Year 6ers until their yearly test is done in a few weeks), lots of shaming the kids, and "low-level thinking" types of assignments. The usual. Nevertheless, I think there is some good stuff happening. The kids are pretty advanced, and almost everyone seems pretty destined to get into college. Well, at least an American college. However, the way the English system works, I guess kids get into a tracking system very early on. By mid-high school, you go to what they call "college" and is pretty specific to your occupation. The RA in my hall is like 21 and she has been taking education courses for like 6 years. I'm assuming that a big chunk of the kids in my school will be whisked away to Hamburger University in a few years.

[NOTE: Non education majors might find this a bit boring, so you should probably skip ahead to the paragraph which starts "And one more weird thing about the school..."] In fact, the school seems to already have the whole system arranged. In the classes I've been in, the students are all arranged in pods according to ability groupings. One teacher, as I was working with some kids, interrupted and said, "You can probably tell that we're in ability groupings. That table is the Highest group, then that table, then that table, then that table, and this table [points to my table and mouths "THE LOWEST!"]" Yet, there is very little cooperative learning going on, mostly lecture stuff, "Drill & Kill." The science textbooks are actually a bunch of little books (kind of CMP-esque), arranged in a sort of picture book narrative. In the chapter we read yesterday, it was like, "Susy and her friends decided to dissolve different sized salt grains in water. The table to the left shows their results." And then it had a table with Rock Salt (the biggest size grain) dissolving last, and Table Salt dissolving first. Good start, I suppose. BUT then instead of actually thinking scientifically and discussing WHY the larger grains might take longer to dissolve, the kids just had to create a bar graph of the results! Ugh! It was so frustrating! Talk about killing science.

My math class is not very representative because it is the "High Level" special math class. But in any case, they are doing like a different math topic each day, from grids to angles to the sum of a triangles inner angles. It seems like a big ol' hodgepodge of different concepts, and the lessons consist of the teacher doing something on the SmartBoard for 15 minutes and passing it off ("So watch this: If you measure the inner angles of a triangle, they all add up to 180 degrees. See? Now you go add up the angles of this worksheet"). I think I made a kid almost soil his pants when I asked him, "Why do you think they always add up to 180 degrees?"

And one more weird thing about the school: Before and after gym class, the kids all get their gym clothes and change in the classroom. Like totally down to their skivvies, if the child is wearing skivvies (and some are not, especially the girls). The first time it happened I was like, "what the hell?!" and then I realized that I was the only one who thought it was weird. Whoops.

Other than all that, it is going well. I love the kids and I am super excited to get actually teaching every day. I'm starting with math soon, and it will be fun to try stuff out that the kids are probably not used to. How is everything going for y'all? Please drop me a line when you have the chance.

- Lunn Dunningland

THING I FORGOT TO BRING TO ENGLAND: My girlfriend.

NUMBER OF TIMES ALMOST DEAD DUE TO "WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD" THING: 0 (4 Total) However, this statistic is 4x less funny since today we saw a pedestrian dying in an ambulance as we walked by...

FUNNY THING BRITS SAY WRONGLY: To make a photocopy, you "whiz one out."

And then some dude in the back says, "But is it art?"

Yesterday, got very much lost, and ended up at the very much popular British Zoo, waited in line for over an hour, only to realize when I got to the ticket booth that the admission fee was £17, which is like the US Dollar equivalent of my first-borne son. So instead I kept on walking around and being lost.

I finally found my actual destination, the Institute of Contemporary Art. It seems like a pretty brill spot- (Oh, you didn't know? Sorry. "Brill" is short for "Brilliant," which is the most common British compliment) they have concerts almost every week, really interesting movies, and some off-the-wall art exhibits. The one I went to yesterday was called "Cellar Door," (or "Celador") and consisted of three pretty identical black rooms, each with a huge black motion-sensor door that went up and down like in a spaceship from those motion pictures you keep hearing about. Anyway, in each of the rooms hung this bulbous shape, complete with various speakers blasting a very dramatic opera (as opposed to all those undramatic operas). To top it all off, there was a butler guy in a tux who occasionally comes out to serve black champagne. And, at the end, there was a vending machine with candies that supposedly had no taste, thereby allowing the space-aged taster to invent their own. Unfortunately, they cost £1.50 (first-borne daughter) and I didn't get them.

I guess it was supposed to be like a Stanly Kubrick film, like any second the lights would flicker out and I would be killed by some sort of allegory. Twas all very Medulla-esque. Thoroughly pretentious, and even more thoroughly entertaining.

Oh, and I started teaching children this past week, too.

I also got kicked out of the 24 Hour Library at 8:50 pm

Politiks, As Usual.

In honor of B. Hussein Obama's unfortunate loss to C. Rodham Clinton last night, I am going to complain about another country's politics. What gives me the authority to give a far-reaching tell-all about the British political scene? Well, I've had over 3 conversations about it with over 4 Brits.
Well, first of all, it should be noted that the Indian folks here reminded the American folks (well, except one exceptionally educated citizen) about the very important Pennsylvania primary. That being said, there is another very important election coming up in Britain, specifically London- the mayoral election.
The election is on May 1st, and instead of the usual political posters run amok all over the city, there are signs put up by the city which say things like "Remember to register to vote!" or the badass "No vote, no voice, no excuse." I first thought this lack of visual electioneering was because of some kind of campaign finance law or something, but according to my well-funded research the candidates are perfectly allowed to print and distribute material, though not nearly as much as . Like one particularly charming candidate who, along with starting Fathers4Justice (you know, those deadbeat dads who say the justice system discriminates against fathers?) has a poster campaign to get anti-Scottish Londoners to support him. (His campaign website is voteenglish.org if you're looking to donate)















But most importantly, I bring this all up because I've really been trying to get some locals to talk about the election, and NO ONE KNOWS IT IS HAPPENING. I've heard people say things like, "Well, all we hear about anymore is your election on the news" or "It's just so complicated." Even the Indians don't have an opinion, though they have said that they like Obama (though it may have been because I was rocking an Obama t-shirt at the time).
Currently, the race is pretty tight, with the incumbant behind by about 6 points (but closing in) to a conservative guy named Boris who seems to be Huckabeeing everyone by not actually having any sort of plan, aside from hating gays and the environment, but is somehow the frontrunner. But never fear, I have seen one "IMPEACH BUSH" sticker on a sign downtown. At least we're focusing on what matters.

- Lunn

THING I FORGOT TO BRING TO ENGLAND: Shampoo. Yep, been conditioning for about 6 days now.
NUMBER OF TIMES ALMOST DEAD DUE TO "WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD" THING: 1 (4 Total)
FUNNY THING BRITS SAY WRONGLY: I couldn't quite make out the word, but evidently a blacktop playground is called a "beach" or a "beak" or something.

Great Beards In History

Alas, I must look professional now, and one great beard must be removed from the list...

Tour de Roehampton

So this is Roehampton, the campus where I rest my head. As you can see, it is pretty pretty. And there you have it.

- Lunn


THING I FORGOT TO BRING TO ENGLAND: Toenail Clippers
NUMBER OF TIMES ALMOST DEAD DUE TO "WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD" THING: 0, didn't leave campus (3 Total)
FUNNY THING BRITS SAY WRONGLY: A "fag" is a rather unfortunate name for a cigarette.

A Walk In The Park

Dearest Followers of the My Cult:

Today I went to London's largest park, which is approximately the size of India. It is known for its deer herds, whose brains are evidentially not melting like Wisconsin's. But instead of deer, this park happens to be the largest dog park in the universe (Meghan and Rose take note). Every Brit this side of St. Louis seems to have a baker's dozen of anklebiters, and Richmond Park is where they come to party and subsequently scare away deer, who probably pellet their pants at the sight of all the dogs. Much like their owners, British Dogs don't seem to notice anyone they pass on the street. It is kind of eerie.

However, this might simply be because of the very rigid London Social Hierarchy. I am still working out the kinks, but I think it goes something like this:

1. The Queen
2. Double Decker Buses
3. Single Decker Buses
4. Cars
5. Horses/Horseback Riders (unable to differentiate)
6. Bicyclers
7. Dogs
8. Dog Walkers
9. Pedestrians

And how it seems to work is that anyone has full permission to yell obscenities at, ignore, or scoff at the folks below them on the hierarchy. I'm sure this list will be augmented as I get to know London more and/or see a person on a segway, which will most certainly be below Pedestrians.

Which reminds me: Yesterday on the bus, I heard some kids who couldn't have been more than 13 talking about how silly it was that the Queen had any power (I even heard one kid say, and I'm not making this up, "We should have a real republic, like they do in America." He later on followed up this astute political commentary by telling his friend, "That shirt makes your boobs look bigger.")

And we're back. The park walk was also excellent because I got to follow this neat little pocket guide of London Walks that Regina got for me (Thanks!). I came across a pub along the River Thames (NOT the "Thames River," you bloke) that gets its front doors blocked every day during high tide. So once you're in, you're in for the long haul. Excellent marketing strategy, eh?

Then I was back in the park along a trail called "Melancholy Path" which was not very melancholy at all, except for the fact that the sun hasn't come out since I've been here. At the end of my four-odd hour walk, I finally saw some rather mangy looking deer (In England, they actually say "Deers," but I have standards), hidden away from the dogs in the middle of a Polo field (At press time, I still have no clue what "Polo" is, but it sounds rich). This adventure certainly won't be my last time at Richmond park, considering it is about three blocks from my campus, and that I miss Royal and Raleigh. I hope you all are having a wonderful day.

- A

How Long Must Her Tears Go Unwiped?

I am supposed to contact the biggest Europhile I know, Blythe. Does anyone else know Blythe's email, or someone similar to Blythe? Must love baking, Arrested Development, and have a good vocabulary.

- L

A Good Breakfast Makes A Good Day

I, Lunn Dunningland, don't have much to report. I woke up and had my "full English Breakfast" which is a pompous way of saying "4 or 5 breakfast items." This seems like a more patriotic way of saying "Continental Breakfast," but the 4 or 5 items are usually much better than orange drink, a donut, and very bad coffee. My "Full English Breakfast" this morning consisted of:

1. Hashbrowns, shaped like triangles
2. Tomatoes, as in the peeled, canned kind
3. Toast
4. Veggie Sausage

Needless to say, it was fantastic.

The Madison folks and I decided to keep our streak of not mingling with any non-Americans alive by heading off to the British Museum, which if you don't know, is basically the conglomeration of hundreds of years of British Conquest. As would be expected, it is pretty amazing- tons of stuff, way too big to see in a week, Eurocentric as all get-up.
At the height of the controversy of the museum lay the marble statues from Greece. So I guess while the Ottomans had Greece on lockdown, they made an arrangement with the Brits to give them tons of statues from the crumbling Parthenon. Don't worry folks, according to a pamphlet the British Museum distributes concerning the controversy, this transaction was declared legal by a "Parlimentary Select Committee!"
Anyhow, Greece has since been freed of the Ottomans (Ottomen?), is creating an indoor museum to preserve the Parthenon, and wants its sculptures back, which no doubt the Greek Parlimentary Committee has ruled were taken illegally. The Brits won't budge, and that is where we are today. Kind of interesting, right?
In any case, I saw a bunch of sculptures of Greek folks with broken penises today.


However, the highlight of my day was when we went to Hyde Park to a place called "Speakers Corner" is which, so long as you bring a soapbox, stepstool, or other height-increasing object, you can shout out all that stuff you've been realizing for the past 40 years of your life. It was awesome. There were about 4 soapboxers going at once- one African guy talking about "Moral Authority," two guys debating about whether the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are one person or three folks or just a funny translational slip-up, and another guy shouting in Arabic, mainly at another guy shouting in Arabic just below him. Beside all the soapboxers, there were tons of other conversations and debates going on around. And believe it or not, it wasn't like a tourist-y thing, either. I definitely felt a little out of place not arguing with somebody.

And this wasn't just a bunch of 9-11 Conspiracy kooks; there were some real interesting topics, and the folks gathered around would play a moderator role.

Muslim: [Something about the Bible]
Christian: [Something about the Qur'an]
Muslim: Let me ask you, how old are you?
Bystander #1: That question is irrelevant!
Bystander #2: Wait! You don't know if it is yet! Answer him!
Christian: I'm 28.

And not one shot was fired, not one bomb went off, and it was good.

- Lunn

THING I FORGOT TO BRING TO ENGLAND: Cash (probs with the credit card...)
NUMBER OF TIMES ALMOST DEAD DUE TO "WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD" THING: 1 (3 Total)
FUNNY THING BRITS SAY WRONGLY: A "bathroom" is a room with a bath. Ha!

Greetings, non-dragon flaggers!

Greetings All! I have arrived in the country of England, which as you can tell from the map is somewhere to the right of the USA. I hope this "blog" finds you all well.

I arrived yesterday, which for y'all Yankees is like the future. You see, I am 6 or even 8 hours ahead of you. By the time you read this, I may be enjoying tomorrow! My flight over here was actually somewhat pleasant. I sat next to a fella from Indianapolis who was head of his college's Democratic party (though he did say he would vote for a McCain/Lieberman ticket and said he was "iffy on the whole gay marriage thing"), and we talked a lot. I even got to watch a motion picture, Juno, which wasn't particularly awesome. Why is it that when Garden State bases itself off of hipster music, it seemed genuine and powerful, but with Juno, it seemed trite and phony? Maybe because Juno's "listen to this- it'll change your life" song is by far the worst one on the album. And I know this, because my 7 year old guitar lesson student gave me the whole album as a going away present. For those of you keeping track at home, the best song is
"Vampire" by some band called Antsy Pants.

My dorm floor is "International," which means that all of the awkward dudes from other countries share the same living space. However, I was surprised to find that the awkward dudes are not from China and Japan, but instead from other places right and left of the USA like Bangladesh, India, and some place called Bhutan:

"Ah! Bhutan! No Way! It must be...warm there!"
"Well, no, it is in the Himalayas and often very cold"
"Ahh... yes, of course!"

I also just learned today of a country called "Wales" which evidently offended some people. Upon further research, I found that I apparently have a thing against countries with dragons on their flags.

I saw Buckingham Palace today, which may seem like a big deal if you still think the queen is a big deal. That's so 14th century in my opinion... But it may be sort of like Obama's "Uncle Rev Wright" concept where you kind of grin and nod and say "Why yes, my queen, I'm so glad you are here! We...ah...needed this sword to be blessed!" I guess there is this thing where if the queen is home, a green and red flag is waved at the top. However, there was no flag, so I assume she was off attending to some extremely important diplomatic crisis.

Speaking of traditions that just won't go away, today I also went to the "Center of British Catholicism"- Westminster Cathedral. It was actually really cool inside, very huge and echoey, with lots of dead saints coated in silver, and the choir was practicing some wicked dissonant stuff, like straight out of OK Computer. I almost converted, right then and there. For those of you out there who are currently tripping, it is highly advisable NOT to watch the cool intro on the Westminster Cathedral Website.

OK, that is probably the longest post I shall ever have. I hope you all are doing well. Please send me an e-mail at awitkins@gmail.com if you have a chance, but I probably won't respond, because I am cold-hearted and irresponsible.

- Lunn

THING I FORGOT TO BRING TO ENGLAND: London Guide Book
NUMBER OF TIMES ALMOST DEAD DUE TO "WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD" THING: 2 (2 Total)
FUNNY THING BRITS SAY WRONGLY: A "canteen" is a cafeteria