Last Sunday I was talking to Will Jensen (long story) and just before he hung up, he mentioned that his roomate frequently played the Flaming Lips, and that Will always made him turn up "Do You Realize?" and rocked out, going "Yeah!" to lines like "Everyone you know some day will die." For those of you who met Will, you know what tone the "Yeah!" had. For those of you who haven't, don't worry about it.

Then, a few days ago (for the sake of being specific, I will say Tuesday, but I'm not sure it was Tuesday) I got up from listening to a CD (for the sake of interest, I will say it was Little Richard, and although it probably was Little Richard, I'm not sure) and walked over to the door (for the sake of interest, I will specify that the door is brown, because it is). Just before I got there, I noticed a CD someone had slid into my room through the crack. I picked it up and read, "Dear Greg, hope this song puts a smile on your face. :)" The CD contained only "Do You Realize?" by the Flaming Lips. It did not put a smile on my face, for musical reasons, but regardless, I was terrified. "Oh my God! Is Jensen here? What's going on, is this an acid flashback or what?" You get the point.

So I called Jess, and Wes, and other people who's names end in "ess". They had not sent the CD. Polewach, who would not touch the Flaming Lips, who probably gets mild stomach aches thinking about the Flaming Lips, who likely uses "Flaming Lip" as a derogatory term, did not have to be asked. I had no other friends here who would make even mildly likely candidates.

Several days went by (beautiful narrative device, that. Did anything happen in those days? Of course. I'm just not telling what). I was standing outside having a cigarette with Wes when a guy named Tom Gallo (my next-door neighbor, and a non-entity) walked up. I asked him if he liked the Flaming Lips. He smiled broadly and said, "No, but I know who does."

"Who?"

"I can't tell you, but I'll tell him to come to you."

"Eh."

I found out nothing for days. I saw men with long hair in white suits playing guitars out of the corner of my eyes, but when I looked it was only snow-covered trees. Fuzzy dancing animals greeted me as I got out of bed, and I knocked them over to get to my washcloths. No one came. I didn't want anyone to come. What if it was some guy trying to pick me up? What do you say to something like that?

Eventually, I asked Tom again. "You know Josh?"

"Yeah." He was another non-entity Annapolis transfer Junior, only in addition to being opinionless, he was oblivious. This made him the perfect comic straight man, as I could use him to set up as many jokes as I could fit into the space of a meal. I would not consider this talking to him. I did not greet Josh outside of the dining hall, any more than I greet the dog, Boston, who is constantly bouncing around Lowers, barking and looking ugly.

"It was him."

"Oh."

Then, later, when I told this to Jess, he said, "huh. You know, he seems like he's in the closet."

"Because of this, or you got that impression before?"

"I thought that before. He seems way inside the closet."

"Jesus."

"I wouldn't worry about it."

"Jesus."