The Colbert Redemption

Washington, DC is the best place in the world to learn about politics, I would venture to say. I have seen and heard many stories, theories, and ideas about how government operates, mostly coming from real participants in the process, and not just ones who've studied. My greatest educator here has been Stephen Colbert. One night here, the TV was on, and the Colbert Report began. Pavol and I turned our attention to it, and actually found it to be quite funny. I'd seen it before, but something made me appreciate it more now. Well, anyway, watching it has now become a nightly ritual (well, four nights a week, at least). I don't even know the last time I actually had a TV show that I made a point of watching regularly. I really don't even watch when I'm at college. But we do make an exception for Colbert. He's worth it.
I've been figuring out my summer situation (as mentioned in a previous post), and after hearing Stephen make some intern joke on his show, the thought of working there sounded really fun to me. So, I've sent them a letter and resume. Let's hope it works, and they'll pay some money, too. I'm not really counting on getting it, but why not just throw in my hat? Here's my letter (to be read with a healthy dose of sarcasm):

Dear MTV Networks,

Two years ago I started college, and it didn’t take long for the atheist pinko indoctrination process to work its evil magic on me. I began to question many of the basic principles that I’d always lived my life according to, such as that George W. Bush is our greatest president, and that McDonald’s food is healthy. I began to think of Arbor Day and Kwanzaa as more important than the Superbowl. Worst of all, I started to believe what they said about television. I began to see TV as a waste of time, and the shows on it which used to entertain me no longer did. I realize now this was all part of their brainwashing, but, in a way, those tweed-wearing tree-hugging Soviet-sucking worthless bastards were right: TV had lost something.

Primetime network channels had begun to air gameshows like “The Weakest Link,” with that carrot-topped cronish Brit barking insults at the contestants. The noble place once held by television dramas was taken over by “reality shows,” such as “Are You Hot?”, “Big Brother,” and the Anna Nicole Show (God rest her soul). On top of this vacuum of intelligence, I began to perceive that all of the news channels were trying to turn me into another mindless Orwellian drone, spoon-feeding me cooked-up, irrelevant garbage about schemes like “the situation in Iraq” and “the election” and expecting me to believe it without ever thinking twice. Every time I turned on the TV, all I saw was bland fact after bland fact, twenty-four stultifying hours a day.

I gave up on TV, my childhood love, and had to look elsewhere for answers. My life became full of studying, reading books, playing guitar, and talking to other people. In short, I was lost and alone; my life was empty and worthless.

One dark day, as I was standing in line to buy twenty boxes of sleeping pills, a blinding, radiant light shone down upon me, not from heaven, but from the face of Stephen Colbert on the TV screen behind the counter. In a moment, I was born anew in truth. With his words, he held me upside down and spanked the feeling back into me. The umbilical cord of mainstream media information was severed, and the placenta of the stagnant and repulsive ideas of the past was thrown away forever.

Stephen Colbert came into my life when I most needed it, when no one else would. He reached out his hand and said to me, “It’s okay, I’m right. You can trust me.” Once I accepted this, it was clear: he was right all along. I now feel more informed about our country and the world than anyone else I know. As a sign of dedication to the most trustworthy human being alive, I am getting a life-size tattoo of Mr. Colbert wearing a suit, all over my body. It will be done in 2013.

Stephen Colbert is a hero, plain and simple. In today’s world of strict factual reporting, Mr. Colbert is a shining beacon of interpretation of truth. When the terrorist-loving liberal media tromps out their “no-spin” version of the truth, Mr. Colbert is the first and only to take what they say and spin it right back the way it’s supposed to be. The way God made it. When Mr. Colbert speaks, great things happen. Trumpets play. Flags wave. Eagles soar. Democrats piss their pants. America, as a whole, smiles. I believe Mr. Colbert deserves to be called the New Father of our Country, for while Christopher Columbus founded this country in the name of freedom, Mr. Colbert saved it in the name of liberty.

It is with all this in mind that I humbly request the honor of serving as an intern on Mr. Colbert’s staff for the summer season of 2007. Just to hear his voice in person would make me retch in excitement. I want to be close to him, to be inundated with truthiness, to stand in the presence of the most Lincolnish man since George Washington himself. I want to touch the hem of his garment. If I could die having once spoken to Mr. Colbert, even just to say “how many copies do you need?” or “another cup of coffee, sir?”, I would consider my life complete.

Truthfully,

Matt Brandenburgh

Damn it Feels Good to be a Gangsta.

As promised long ago, here are some pictures of where I work and play.
My streetcorner. The glassy building on the corner is a Starbucks, the red-brick building to the left is my apartment. I live down in the basement!
Looking left down Pennsylvania, the street in front of the Starbucks. Cosi is some kind of sandwich place; they're everywhere here.
Looking the other way down Pennsylvania. This is a Dodge Stratus. Off in the distance behind it is the main building of the Library of Congress.This is my place of employment (kind of) (I don't get paid anything). Impressive looking, huh? That's eleven stories of granite, baby!

The American Association fo' the Advancement of Science.

Art.
An impressive-looking open foyer place in my office. I'm standing on the eighth floor, which is where my office is. This is just a big expansive open space (redundant much?) from the sixth to the eighth floor. Fun to look down while you're walking by.

Copy machine. Beyond it is my room.

My room.

My corner of my room.
What my corner looks like. It was totally clean when I came in, took about a week to get this way. Except that stuff under the desk. They just left me a bunch of left over bottles of water, juice, tea packets, and other catering stuff I guess.

My view all day. Sometimes I change the webpage.

A fantastic collection of stamps.
Starbucks in Chinatown. Starbucks are also everywhere here. Even moreso than Cosi. I like in Chinatown how all the signs are written in English and Chinese, even though I really doubt the Chinese have a word for "Starbucks" or "CVS." Cheese-bah-gah, right Ellis?
A Chinese gate.

My boss giving me a few articles to put in the database.

5 minutes later.

So there you are, folks. The exciting day-to-day existence of Washington, DC. It snowed this week, and today the snow is hard as ice. Some places have not been walked on, so it's just a solid sheet that you can glide across. I took time to do this on my way back from work, by the Capitol. I fell down a few times. I've seen snow like this before, but hey, why not act like a 20 year old and not an adult? Suits don't mean anything.



The snow is hard.

THE END.



Disclaimer: The pictures of me at work are for entertainment purposes only. Any events represented in them are entirely fictional, and a product of the author's imagination. Most of my time is spent working. Just having a little fun during the AAAS Annual Meeting when everyone's away. Satisfied, Mark?

Weather in D.C.

I don't want to sound like a Complainin' Cain, but this city is probably the coldest I've ever lived in. For one who spent the start of their life in Oklahoma and recent history in Georgia, walking to the subway in weather that is "12 degrees Fahrenheit, feels like 0" is a far frostbitten cry from anything that I've ever known. I don't know if that meant anything.
I actually took some pictures a while ago of my environs here, I'll post them whenever I remember to (Duh).
Figuring out what to do this summer. I'd like to do an REU, but Ted Shifrin has informed me that they're probably too competitive for me since I haven't taken very many upper level math or physics courses. Maybe next year. I would also like to find some way to maybe go abroad, since I've never been out of the country before. It would be good to actually go to Germany and practice my Deutsch in real situations. But being as how I'm participating in a really expensive program in D.C. right now that doesn't pay anything, my parents probably won't really cotton to the idea of me doing something else that costs them thousands of dollars with zero monetary payback. Therefore, it looks like it's back to my old Plan A of conference hosting at UGA. I'll probably do physics research. It will still be a good summer. I like summer in Georgia: I can do stiflingly hot weather, but not so much bitterly cold. I'll probably also get a banjo finally. Back to the good old days of no homework, playing piano four hours a day, walking everywhere, swimming, reading, playing records, maybe getting a tan, having short hair, being on meal plan, hanging out with captain E & the gang, writing a lot, volleyball, walking around downtown, athens zen group, running, and anything else I might do in the summer. I really do love that place. And this year I'll (hopefully) be getting payed more while doing less.