Dude, Where’s My Prez?


Truck I spotted off High Banks Rd. near Splash

I’m not sure whether this pile of neatly stacked chaos best represents my brain during dead week, the Spanish essay I’m currently writing or Richard Lariviere’s career. It’s been a crazy, frustrating week here at the University of Oregon.

If the timing of the president’s firing was as calculated as some seem to think, the OUS is a council of the evil genius variety. I wanted to march the streets in a fedora a la V for Vendetta and bring down the establishment, but my half-written paper was calling. Rumor has it the OUS is also to blame for the frigid weather (which they whipped up with their Cosmoremotometer of DOOM, of course).

There’s something distinctly gorgeous about warped hunks of metal. I was just reading a selection from an obscure Spanish play in which a character says “Hay que violentar para embellecer.” You must destroy something in order to beautify it.


Maybe that’s why crushed cars make perfect readymades. Each crumpled corpse still holds all the kinetic energy of the dramatic event that destroyed (or should I say created) it. Damaged sheet metal is a narrative medium; rippled bumpers, torn bellies and jagged pipes ignite the 11-year-old side of my imagination.

I’m tempted to end this post by trying to find beauty in Lariviere’s destruction, but the wreck is still at such close proximity. It’s not so disturbing that the controversial prez was let go, it’s that his throat was cut Roman-style. The only wisdom I can think of is “Don’t drive power drunk.” You might have an accident!


P.S. If you spot this out there (it’s right off I-5 on High Banks), go take a look. It’s SWEET dude.


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