01:39

Only one whisky tonight. What’s wrong with me? I tried having beer instead of a second pour. It tasted like water. Gah.

I’ve been searching for Christmas songs on YouTube for the last three hours. Gloria In Exelsis Deo, Oh Come All Ye Faithful, Silent Night and all sorts of Latin (OK, Silent Night isn’t exactly Latin) hymns I fuzzily recall from Sundays many moons ago, in a galaxy far, far away. Somehow I ended up listening to 16 versions of Pachelbel’s Canon in D.

This one’s for you, Danny:

Every time I think of you
I get a shot right through
Into a bolt of blue
It’s no problem of mine
But it’s a problem I find
Living the life that I can’t leave behind
There’s no sense in telling me
The wisdom of a fool won’t set you free
But that’s the way that it goes
And it’s what nobody knows
And every day my confusion grows

Every time I see you falling
I get down on my knees and pray
I’m waiting for the final moment
You say the words that I can’t say
I feel fine and I feel good
I feel like I never should

Whenever I get this way
I just don’t know what to say
Why can’t we be ourselves like we were yesterday
I’m not sure what this could mean
I don’t think you’re what you seem
I do admit to myself
That if I hurt someone else
Then I’ll never see just what we’re meant to be

Every time I see you falling
I get down on my knees and pray
I’m waiting for the final moment
You’ll say the words that I can’t say
Every time I see you falling
I’ll get down on my knees and pray
I’m waiting for the final moment
You’ll say the words that I can’t say

“Bizarre Love Triangle” – New Order

I can’t believe I haven’t posted this yet. It’s one of my most favorite of favoritest songs. It’s almost the most bestest there is. You’ve got to excuse me; the head’s probably still a bit groggy. You know, too much Kool-Aid and all.

<3 80’s snyth-pop.

So according to Dorothy, the lyrics I post “don’t help new students at all.” Except for Cyndi Lauper, of course. Well, thank the god of groundhogs that there are bloggers like Necromonger around to take care of that underserved market segment. They’re a little too panic-elastic for my price point.

——

I think I’ve fallen in love…

…with the vending machines on campus. Not just any ol’ vending machine, mind you, but the “special” ones which dispense delicious hot beverages. The convenience of being able to get a cappuccino, mocha, hot chocolate or even tomato soup in a little plastic cup with nothing more than 0.40 cents in your pocket is fantastic. I mean, this ranks up there with hot breakfasts and a thriving second-hand book market. Unfortunately neither of these exist here in our little bubble, but one can only wish for so much at any one time, right? “Ixnay for wishing for more wishes!”

So yeah, the library gets really boring at this time of night. I wish the rest of these bookworms would go home so I could streak through the stacks. First one to get from America-Abacus to O.E.C.D.-Omega without getting nailed by the shade-on-the-portly side security guard wins a little steaming hot cup of hot cocoa! Seriously though, what’s up with the late-night crowd here? It’s like Cheers, only with overly-studious faces, and devoid of beer, Ted, and people who know your name. I think I’ll start working at home again, but doing that brings up a whole other grain silo of problems.

But I shall not dwell on these, for tomorrow is a new day.

I usually prefer remixes to originals, but this song is awesome.

The fade in at 2:07 to the drop is amazing. If anyone has the Pete Tong remix, please, please, please send it to me; I seem to have misplaced my copy. Maybe it’s hanging out on a beach somewhere, sipping margaritas with my well-worn box of truncated decision trees of futures never to be.

One last loop before bed.

Insomniac’s playlist:

01:11:54 “Live at Innercity Amsterdam 11-12-99″ set – Ferry Corsten

00:58:29 “Exposure 2004″ set – Dumonde

00:07:07 “Memory (Original Vocal Mix)” – Dumonde vs. Lange

00:03:33 “Saxuality (Dumonde Remix)” – High-Gate

00:08:38 “Dream to Me (Airscape Remix)” – Dario G

01:02:49 “Trancequility Volume 23 (Summer Breeze)” set – DJ Doboy

00:09:49 “Southern Sun (DJ Tiesto Remix – live set rip)” – Paul Oakenfold

—–

False dawn is soon to break, yet sleep eludes me. I’m sat my desk, trying to drown out the noise and trying to ride the volatility.

When times of uncertainty arise, one must revert to the basics: friends of the non-bubble flavor, female vocal-laced anthemic trance, foamy imported beers, and favorite books.

——

“France was a land, England was a people, but America, having about it still that quality of the idea, was harder to utter – it was the graves at Shiloh and the tired, drawn, nervous faces of its great men, and the country boys dying in the Argonne for a phrase that was empty before their bodies withered. It was a willingness of the heart.”

-F. Scott Fitzgerald, “The Swimmers”

I flipped on the BBC when I got home this evening, just in time to find out that the title of the 22nd James Bond film was revealed today. Since the phrase “Quantum of Solace” made no sense to me, I did a little bit of digging and found this synopsis of the original Ian Fleming short story.

“The crux of the story is the emotional phenomenon the Governor calls the Quantum of Solace, the smallest unit of human compassion that two people can have. As long as that compassion exists, people can survive, but when it is gone, when your partner no longer cares about your essential humanity, the relationship is over.

At the end of the story Bond is depressed, and suddenly finds his life of adventure to be fundamentally boring and unfulfilling compared to the real human drama the Governor has told him about.”

Ah, art imitating life. Impeccable timing. I wouldn’t expect anything less from the British. I mean, if they can come up with Marmite, what can’t they do? James Bond, I’ll issue an open proposal to trade you the real human drama for your life, any day. Hell, I’ll even let you keep the Bond Girls.

C-Mog, you were right; I think I finally hit my stride here. God damned shame that it took until today. It’s time once again to embrace the DILLIGAF way.

Search Engine Terms

These are terms people used to find your blog.

Today

Search	Views
insead cement boy	2

—–

Hahahahhahahaha. G, you’re famous!

There was a long running inside joke in Section E4 involving a certain student, who if given the chance -any chance, really- would bring up his previous job where he worked for a very large multinational which controls a good portion of the world’s cement production and try to tie it in to whatever subject was being discussed.

Apparently, some of my readers want to know more about this Dashing Man of Mystery and Concrete. Unfortunately, this is a public blog, so I won’t be able to post his name, but if you’re really interested in finding out more about him, feel free to dial INSEAD’s main switchboard at +33 (0)1 60 72 40 00 and ask for Cement Boy. They’ll forward you to the right man.

So you’ve probably heard of Guitar Hero, the runaway hit cult video game that dares you to unleash your inner Joan Jett, or, uh, Eddie van Halen.

But I bet you haven’t heard of, Fløjte Hero!

That’s right, ladies and gentleman, Flute Hero, brought to you by some crazy Danish Flash programmers.

I’d advise you to not play this in airport waiting lounges using your laptop’s speakers, or to play this at all if you’ve got a penchant for silly, addictive games.

Congratulations to Le Blog de Hog for unseating Necromonger as the #1 search result on Google for “INSEAD 2008 blog.”

I on the other hand, can’t even get to #1 for “DTLF.”  Google is obviously broken.

On a totally unrelated note, here’s another tip for you D08’s:  Pack warm.

Are you a Righty or a Lefty?

Brought to you by the Society for the Prevention of Exam Studying.

I’m doing horribly in school and quite probably toeing the FAIL line!

This should be a bad thing, and would cause undue concern under most circumstances, but since I’ve slowly been telling myself I’m not here to get on the Dean’s List, it isn’t and doesn’t.

Well, the lack of concern in and of itself gives me pause for, uh, concern, but I’m weaning myself off of the need to be in the top percentile and focusing on what I’m here to focus on, which is, err, hmm. What was it again?

The weather. Yes, that was it. The weather. We had a few days of sun, but it’s back to the gloom-and-doom of Fonty Forest. So much for the skirts and sandals. It’s back to not-so-flattering bundles of heavy grey stuff that makes everyone look like depressed sheep.

And here’s an excellent segue into a totally unrelated subject that might interest the fresh meat of the D08 class:

Things I Wish I Knew Before Moving to Fontainebleau, In No Particular Order

• If you haven’t lived in France recently, take whatever you’ve budgeted for the year, multiply it by 1.5 and add a few extra grand for silly stuff, like eating
• Not having a car is totally viable and will save you a few grand, if you A) Live 2 minutes from school, B) Do not want a social life, C) Like to beg for rides to the market so you can, like, eat and stuff
• Gasoline is ridiculously expensive
  • Those who bought/leased diesel cars were the smart ones after all, as there’s a 0.15-0.25 Euro differential between a litre of petrol and a litre of gazole (diesel)
• Food is ridiculously expensive
  • A meal of XYZ mystery meat and fries, or a small-ish sized pizza at a restaurant in town will damage you for 11+ Euro
  • A weekly trip to the local supermarket to stock up on staples will somehow shaft you for something in the 30 Euro range
    • I bought 3  4  EDIT(Apparently, B-school have teached me how too ad) oranges the other day for 1.60 Euro. Not 3 kg. Not 3 bushels. 3 as in 1+2.
  • A sandwich at the bar on campus goes for 3.61 Euro
• Beer is ridiculously expensive
  • A pint of Heineken at a ratty bar in town will hit you for a minimum of 6 Euro
• Office supplies are ridiculously expensive
  • A standard ringed binder at the local supermarket will run you 3+ Euro
  • 5 pack of black Papermate pens set me back 5+ Euro
  • It is impossible to fine horizontal-lined notebooks or notebook paper; everything in France is gridded, and, you guessed it: expensive
• Not speaking French doesn’t work here, at all

To be continued…

A bientot.