The (Mis)Adventures of Matt Lyon

I am so fucking sick of living with 5 girls. Most of whom are just self-absorbed drama queens who love to cry almost as much as they love America's Next Top Model. I'm not sure which is worse. Watching girls cry, or watching girls watching girls cry.

I need testosterone. I need my friends. I have mostly well-wishers, in that they don't wish me any specific harm. Yet.

I need to not feel pressured to keep dumb conversations about who the fuck knows. I need to get outside of downtown.

I need to get blackout drunk on Big Sleaze concoctions.

Well, my wishes will come true. I'm making a trip down South and the end of June. June 22-July 2 to be exact. And not a moment to soon. I've seen every episode of Sex and the City. Every fucking one of them.

Alrighty boys and toys. The time has come to let you in on a little secret. Papa Bear's back in the States. That's right. Holed-up in Madison, Wisconsin of all places. The frozen tundra, the Badger State, America's Dairyland, the Cheesehead State, the land of milk and....well, more fucking milk. What brings a world traveller like myself to such humble abodes as this, you might ask? Well, if any of you know me, then you fear me. And if you fear me, then you respect me. And if you respect me, then you venerate me. And if you know what venerate means, then you're probably not one of my friends because most of my friends are soulless, toothless hicks. If you're one of the few that have passed through my filter of continence unscathed, then you have passed a mighty test indeed.

Welcome True Friend. From now on, I'll just call you Thomas Friedman to keep your anonymity and sanctity intact. So, Thomas Friedman, you're curious about why I moved to Madison, eh? Well, Thomas Friedman, let me tell you a little story about Big Boy Lion and Big Girl Fox. One day in the Forest, or the Bush, or the Savannah, or wherever the hell lions and foxes live in harmony with each other. Wait, lions hunt foxes? Fuck. Lets just pretend for one goddamned minute that one doesn't live in fear of the other so I can get through this horribly-structured parable about how lions and foxes are really in love with each other and they left the Outback to try to live in peace and harmony in Madison, Wisconsin and go to school and earn a little bit of money and help people with developmental disabilities and party with college kids and go to concerts and eat a whole lotta no meat and lay in bed all weekend watching Deepak Chopra DVDs, but mostly just every single goddamned episode of Sex and the City. Oh, I guess I just did. Damnit. I guess I don't have to talk down to you, Thomas Friedman. You understand in perfect English what's going on. You're great. You really are a True Friend. Kinda like Carrie (sane one) and Samantha (the slutty one) and Miranda (the cynical one) and Charlotte (the crazy one) are true friends. Gosh, Thomas Friedman, if you and I were on Sex and the City, who would we be? Wait, I know! I'd be Miranda because I'm always so self-conscious about my body and eager to let people in, but so angry when it doesn't work out, and you'd be Carrie, not because you're sane, Thomas Friedman, but because Carrie and Miranda are best friends! True friends, you might even say. And that's us, Thomas Friedman, True Friends! Ok, now if you were a guy on Sex and the City, who would you be? I know what you're thinking, you'd be Big. No way, Thomas Friedman! While you have the looks and the debonair of that macho studcake, you'd have the sensitivty to introduce me to your mother at Church and you'd never marry some bimbo you met in Paris and then sleep around on her with me. No, you'd definitely be Aiden! You have the suave and silk of Big, but the down-home country good looks and morals of Jerry Falwell. I think I'd be Steve because I'm some kinda adorable and good-natured with just the right pinch of a wild hair mixed in with bookishness that appeals to someone like Miranda. And then we, Aiden and Steve, can date other, more attractive women than Carrie and Miranda and open up a bar together and be together forever! Oh, Thomas Friedman, won't it be grand!!??!!



As you can see, I have big plans for us, Thomas Friedman. But in the meantime, I'm up here in Madison with Meghan learning about all kinds of things. Like how girls work. And what to do when 5 girls are watching Bad Girls Club.

Hint: rhymes with "Snow in your boom and salivate."

After my lessons are finished, I'll be leaving the allegorical cave, or in this case a den (10 comprehensive reading points for why) and making a pilgrimmage down south to share my lessons with any and all who care to listen/trapped on balcony of the apartments while I'm telling someone else. Alumni weekend. be there or be scared.

In the meantime, here's a video that is of the utmost importance and urgency for those without the giggles.

Ok, this is something that has really been pissing me off lately. My counterparts Irving Longface and SHC Barrel have really been slacking as of late. To the point of a violent rage on yours truly. Firstly, the Barrel has been inactive since September 1st. That's basically August. Which is two, almost three seasons ago. And the last entry was about Paul fucking Walker??? No offence to TJoe for making the entry, but this was supposed to be a fluffer piece. A feel-good filler article during a slow news day. And this hack's mug is front row center to my daily wanderings in the virtual world. C'mon Hummer. Stand up or sit down. Quit squatting over the Barrel.

Number 2. Irving Longface makes me wanna. He deletes all the priceless comments from his blog, including the legendary 'Nigger' marathon. Now, one could see this as Mr. Face is trying to clean up his act for the med school goons he'll soon be taking it from. But now, without even so much as a Good Night and Good Luck he's thrown his whole blogging livelihood out the window and let the net sharks replace it for a web search for "county jail". Now I'm sure Irving has nothing to do with a county jail. Or maybe he does. Either way, his legacy will that of shame and cowardice.

Own up you maggots.

So its 245 in the mornign the night before I leavce the czech republic.. I’m leaveing a completely different life for the one im about to embark on. Its going to be a strange transistion. I just have to remember that its no more strange than moving to the Czech republic alone. But the psychology involved is sometimes overwhelming.

What im goin got miss about the Czech republic

The beer
The bear
The ease of trams
The metros
The international trains
The z card
The domestic trains
The people on the trains
The women on the trains at 10 in the morning
The baby carriages
The random absurd art
The small village that looks like every other one
The 60kc daily menu
The 25kc beer
Delvita
Baggin your own groceries
Putting 10kc coins to get a cart
Riding the tram one stop for free
530 wake up alarms
spending the majority of the day driving
falling asleep in Prague and waking up in a different time and a different world
playing for kids
doing the magic
digging in kids’ ears
shoving 10 year old children around with a fake plastic gun pretending to be a government agent in search of aliens
being the alien
being the ‘evil brother’ Stephen
rolling a cigarette on stage
making out with air on stage
being hard
interacting with Czech kids
talking to them in Czech
leading them towards understanding
hoping to make a connection
maybe making a random connection that I will never know about 
playing in nice theaters
playing good shows
a nice meal after shows
driving through Moravia in the fall
driving down a tree lined road in the fall
commuting for work
working my ass off for bullshit language agencies
buying the homeless magazine
showing a ticket controller my pass in confidence
buggering off for a weekend in a different country
paying 300kc to travel by train all the way across the country
the eye candy
trying to speak Czech
skiing in the mountains for 150kc
random vacationing skiing for less than 2000kc
rolling and smoking a joint in a nice bar
ease of experiencing art
ease of having a random experience
Czechtek
Waking up and not knowing exactly to expect
Pim’s cookies
Ease of seeing manmade beauty
Ease of hearing poetry or music
Genuine people experiencing life
Amazing churches within a walking distance from anywhere
Cheap food
Cheap rent
Sense of renewal constantly
Open frontiers
Open possibilities
More freedom
More ease
Less stress
Less pressure
More isolated
More unaffected
Less frustrated
More extroverted
Less self conscious
More self conscious

So the last night we were in town, I went out with some of the students and some of their friends. We went to the bar I'd met them at the night before and I basically stood at the bar for 10 minutes getting a couple of beers in me quick. One social courtesy that I've let go of over here is alcohol etiquette. No one cares if you have a beer or two at lunch. Its no problem to drink with 16 year olds. Which I did a lot of that night. And they drank me under the table. After catching up, they took me to a music club that actually played some of the best music I've encountered going to a random bar. A good mix of American rock classics and Hungarian hits. Some of the tunes spun included "Smells like Teen Spirit", "Intergalactic Planetary", "Killing In the Name Of", and "Du Hast". Rockin time to drink til you slobber and dance til you fall down. I bought some Hungarian cigarettes and Lord almighty what horrible creations those things are. Even when its 2 in the morning you take one drag and stuff it out. Foul junk. But smoked a joint with a couple of the kids and had to fend off one of the girls who was drunk and drunk. Sorry boys, this stud is nailed! Meeeeowwww!

I remember walking home and thinking and coming to some sort of conclusion about some meandering that I had and wanting to remember it and saying it out loud so that I could conjure it up the next day. But alas, I need to be bugged 24/7-for the Scrapbook!

I woke up at 6.30 and hastily and clumsily packed my bag and made my way to the car. David and Lenka were waiting for me. I told David the day before that I would drive the first 4 hours to Budapest, but he took one whiff of me and knew he'd be driving the whole way. I immediately passed out in the backseat and woke up 2 seconds later in Budapest. After watching David drive around in circles for a half hour, he finally dropped me off at Keleti Pu Train Station where I took a train to Eger. It was a bit of a rough ride. One of those feelings of feeling sick from the alcohol, expounded by the fact that youre traveling on your own in a foreign country with no idea where you're going and where you will sleep that night. But as I slept off the last remenants of the Grosser my outlook began to improve. I got off the train in Eger, not really noticing anything special. I was immediately approached by a little old lady named Kami, I think. She offered me a room in her house for 3000 Forints (12 USD)a night. I was hoping and half-expecting this to happen. I immediately accepted and we headed in the direction of her flat. Along the way she practiced her English by telling me about her son (who of course I remind her of) who is in University and will grow up to do great things, no doubt in her mind. As we are walking, I'm looking for signs that tell me I've come to town worth coming to. My guide for this trip was an Eastern Europe Lonely Planet from 1990 that I picked up in the Book Nook for 50 cents. The place seemed like nothing special.

We arrived at her flat and she told me the school adjacent was the one she was principal of for 30 years after teaching there for the 10 years previous. Wow. She knows this square kilometer better than anybody else, I bet. She showed me to my room and I was so pleasantly surprised to see it. Such a nice guest room with two beds, a television, a few couches and bathroom connecting to the main hallway. She sat me down and went over some tourist brochures, train and bus schedules, and a small history book of the town. After seeing some of the pictures, I was eager to go out and explore. I paid her for the first night and showered up and left to venture into the city.

Equipped with a small map and one of the brochures, I tried to make my way to the center. Seeing a signpost with numerous directional arrows, I stopped to read it. I was picked up by a middle aged Brit who was friendly enough to show me into town. He was more about talking about himself than anything and apparently had come here to have some dental work done. (Is there no limit to what the Brits do to keep up their oral hygiene?) When we made our way to the square, he "left me to it" and I was on my own once again. My first impressions of the historical center of Eger were great. It actually reminded me of Destin, Florida for some reason. Very clean, kept up for tourists--but not over-crowded, and with a vibrancy and real connection to the past that was palpable. I decided the first thing I should do was to visit the Minaret to get a bird's-eye view of the town. So I walked past three Christian churches to make my way to this remarkable structure. Being completely ignorant of the history of Eger, I paid my 50 cents worth of Forints to scale the very tall and slender Muslim offering to God. The enclosed spiral staircase were about as steep and narrow as to make Houdini claustrophobic. I had a sweeping thought of what would happen if this thing were to come crashing down with me halfway up, stuck inside. But the feeling passed and I finished climbing the 97 steps for an absolutely incredible view of the town. To come from the train station and then to the apartment (both of which are outside the historical center)and have no real idea what is around you, and then to climb a 400 year old minaret (which is the northernmost Muslim monument in Europe) and see the entire town spread out before you, fills you with such humility and excitement that any tiredness I felt was instantly whisked away and replaced with a sense of immediacy for discovering. The town is breathtaking. I came to learn that the Castle was the stage for one of the most epic defences in all of Europe. It was here in 1552 that less than 2100 Egerians fought off the Turkish army 80,000 strong! Imagine that!! 2100 townspeople-men, women, and children--not soldiers--kept 80,000 Turkish military men at bay. Unbelievable!

But anyway, I got a good feel of the surroundings and slowly made my way back down to the Earth. The invigoration I felt gave me itchy feet and I spent the rest of the daylight hours being amazed at every turn. Beautiful little cobblestoned streets, not unlike Prague, but felt much more authentic. I even found a skate park nestled under a beautiful Eastern Orthodox church. The perfect weather and surroundings led me to take everything in and fully enjoy my existential being, while still feeling connected to the people and the place.

I stopped in the most beautiful Baroque Church I HAVE EVER SEEN and was treated to candy of the eyes and ears as Mass was just finishing up and a children's choir serendaded me as I strained my neck trying to force me senses to soak up much more than they are used to in the hope that my consciousness would also be expanded. After leaving St. Anthony's, I ventured over to St. Stephen's Basillica and was absolutely blown away!!! You know when you're in the mountains or the beach or Rome or Washington DC or some great place of natural or architechtural beauty? The first impression is usually really nice, but you become accustomed to seeing things that aren't normally in your everday experience. You start to expect to see beauty. Well, St. Stephen's is, of course, surrounded by beauty. But the beauty pales in comparison. The layout of this place is on such a grand scale that when you see it, its like one of those effects in movies where the camera simulaneously zooms in and moves away from you. That's what your mind is doing as you try to grasp the beauty and sheer scale of St. Stephen's all at once. A great experience. The church is still so far away from the street that its like climbing up the Lincoln Memorial. You have a lot to do and a lot to comprehend before you are even close to it. Once inside, its the familiar open-mouthed, glazed-over, no-fucking-way look that I've grown so accustomed to over here.

I made my way past the open-air Turkish Baths and back to the flat. I watched some news coverage of an African election race and fell asleep. In the morning I woke up, showered, and made my way to the bus station to hop a bus to Aggtelek. Of course I was so out of it that I didn't realize it was the end of daylight savings time, but no matter. I had an extra hour to kill. A pleasant 2 hour bus ride through the Hungarian countryside and I was magically in Aggtelek. Aggtelek is part of a system of huge underground caverns that spans something like 20 kilometers into Slovakia. In the spring when the waters are a'plenty, you can take a boat trip in one of the underground lakes. It was great to go from a place that has been inhabited since the Stone Age to a place that IS the Stone Age! A nice little tour, although too many tourists talking and flashing their cameras for my liking. In one of the rooms they stage live concerts sometimes. But that day we were only treated to a recording and a light show. Starin' at Stalactites changing colors to the tune of Flight of the Bumblebee is a bit too cheese for me, but memorable nonetheless.

After I took the tour, I had about two hours to kill until the bus back to Eger. So I walked to the nearest busstop and the adjoining village and went to look for a restaurant or store. Nothing doing. There was a nice

Hey guys. Just got back into a 'normal' workweek back in the good ole' Czech Republic and taking some relaxation time to surf the web about things that interest me. I've been thinking a lot about 'ego' lately and what it means to have one, the different forms of ego and consequences of letting it run wild. I read a book a bit ago entitled "People of the Lie; the Hope for Healing Human Evil" by a well-known psychiatrist named M. Scott Peck. In it he talks about the potential for evil in all of us. He also talks in depth about a major Catch 22 when confronting evil in ourselves individually as well as a society.

To paraphrase, he says those most prone to evil are those most likely to avoid investigating it in themselves because it reveals a flaw in the ego that would send it crashing down to the ground. Those people, he says, are most likely to ignore the foundation of ethical thought which has become a maxim of our time: the ends do not justify the means. In other words, according to the basic principle of ethics, we cannot do 'whatever it takes' to realize a goal. He also talks about scapegoating, the act of projecting evil onto others in order to hide or lessen one's own evil. The excuse we've all heard and used ourselves: "Everybody was doing it." This justification for present and future actions not only goes against every ethical and moral fiber we have but also intensifies the guilt by the acknowledgement that that our actions are not brought about by rational, self-reflecting thought. Namely, that we are slaves to the actions of others. The hope that we are not slaves of others' actions is what is called "Character". That we abstain from stealing even if no one is looking, that we stop and help someone when others walk past. Character.

Getting back to the ego: I can say from personal experience that, when allowing my ego to control my thoughts, words, and actions, it is extremely difficult to admit defeat. To say that I was wrong. I think we can all say that we've been in a situation where we knew we were wrong but continued the argument simply for ego gratification. Whether it be a quarrel with a partner or a friendly debate about sports teams. Most of us accept that we are wrong, when backed into a corner. This is a good thing. A healthy thing. The ego is not in control of you. The other direction that can be taken is to distort the past. "I didn't say that" and then lie once more in order to get out of the sticky situation. Not only lying, but spreading disinformation about one's past actions as well as disinformation about one's opponents. This, as Peck says, is the path those prone to evil take.

With that said, I came upon a man today that seemed to lack the good qualities that I just briefly discussed: Ethical thought and Character.

Not only did he lack Good qualities, he possessed Evil qualities: Tendency towards Scapegoating and Lying to prevent collapse of the Ego.

His name is Bill O'Reilly. And he is a man very much prone to evil thought because, in my humble opinion, his ego has taken control of him.

O'Reilly's lack of ethical reasoning as seen recently on David Letterman

O'Reilly's justification of future atrocities just two days after 9/11

O'Reilly's scapegoating to cover evils of the Iraq invasion, as well as his disinformation to justify his scapegoating

I encourage all of you to call your cable or satellite supplier and request that you not receive and pay royalties to Fox News, the channel broadcasting O'Reilly's program.

I Love you all very much.