Mr. Narcy takes a Shit

Despite the Fireheaded's Celt's attempts to change her name to Maura Barnacle, you, reader, must not be duped by her schemes. The Celt is a master of disguise. One day, she will be in a shade of forest green, and the next day, she will be in a shade of sea foam green attempting to kill you and your little dog too. Regardless of her attempts to guise herself as a writer and describe nearly accurate realities of individuals like Yours Truly, I urge you all to remember that she, at her very core, is still the Fireheaded Celt. She is still the Celt that is preparing to overthrow the Roman Empire, the English Empire, and all other empires to further the desires of her Lord Pope, Emperor Palpatine.

First, she distracts the crowd by overwhelming them with her powers of pastiness. Refracting a combination of red light from her hair, bright glares from her claymore, and pure white from her bosom, she temporarily blinds and entrances anyone within a 30 foot radius. Once caught in this blind trance, her opponents are rendered immobile for three minutes. The Celt then chooses from her arsenal to dispose of her weakling enemies.

However, her blinding tactic proves to be ineffective, she uses her second paralysis ability. Raising her arms into the air, she releases the smell an Irish Cottage and English Breakfast tea from the depths of her armpits. This tactic is actually an illusory tactic. Upon inhaling the smell, her opponents believe they are in an alternate Irish reality, sipping tea and watching a Ballykissangel marathon. The combination of her pastiness and her Irish musk is unbeatable.

Once caught, the Celt then either hacks her opponent apart with her sword the she stole from the Highlander, or she uses her favorite weapon- her right foot.

Her right foot is unusually point and has the ability to do two things:

1) It has the ability to destroy computers - particularly Macs - with one swift kick. The Pagan energy contained in her contains the power to smash anything not containing Microsoft products.

2) It has the ability to render the individual that comes in contact with her foot completely impotent (assuming the victim is a male). You see, her foot has the natural affinity to seek and destroy the right testicle of any male with alarming accuracy. This destructive power, if not kept in check by her willpower, will actually act on its own accord.

Do not fall victim to her innocent writings. The Fireheaded Celt is a dangerous criminal with world dominating ambitions.

Her current location is in Dublin, Ireland. Be aware of her movements. At present, she is under the guise of a local journalist. Sources say that she is working with an underground branch of the IRA in order to orchestrate a Celtic Revolution. Please notify the authorities if you see a red headed irish girl that smells like tea. She is currently wanted by the CIA, FBI, M16, and M16. She has also been known to nock out her enemies with dense pieces of stale soda bread.

Good Day.

In Memory of Miss Maura Barnacle

This eulogy is dedicated the Fireheaded Celt who was mortally maimed in a quest through the Highlands to find a boy with hands. Though, I must confess, my writing style is much different from the Celt's. I, unlike the celt, do not need to provide a thesis paragraph explaining the purpose of what I'm writing.

Let me clarify. Even the Celt does not do this. The Celt, in a drunken haze must have placed a series of post-it notes around her computer trying to formulate what to say. Then, she probably had some tea with Guinness followed by at least five hours of facebooking. After the facebooking, she contemplated the idea of having a thesis for her blog, and then was distracted by several episodes of the Gilmore Girls. Having fawned over Dean for at least two hours, and equating yours truly to Paris, the Fireheaded celt went out for a drunken walk. After nearly stealing two dogs, and three cute children, she returned to her room to drink 4 more cups of her Guinness Tea.

Her bladder full. The Fireheaded Celt then proceeded to the toilet, and in the process of peeing out her several cups of Guinness Tea, she formulated her thesis paragraph. I might reiterate. Thesis paragraph. What one must realize bout the Celt is that she loves her sentences as much as she loves her Guinness. The next best thing to a never- ending draft of Guinness would be a never-ending sentence with a form of punctuation that hybridized a semicolon and a hyphen.

Having structured her thoughts into a jumbled thesis paragraph that burdens the soul like an intellectual anvil, the Celt begins the write. We're lucky that the Celt now has completed this process for the blog as a whole. If not, the sheer time she spends peeing cause the worlds water levels to rise.

However, that is enough on the Celt's personal character. I now must defend myself against accusations of naval-gazing.

First of all, I have a very nice naval. It is neither an innie nor an outie, it is about half way in between, and it is quite fascinating to my about how such a naval exists that falls outside of the general categories of innie and outie.

Secondly, I must proudly state that I am proud to be a naval-gazer. I relish in the fact that I am part of the ranks of Descartes, Confucious, Plato, Heidegger, and all those other naval-gazing folk. While of course, I, as the Other can attest to, am only a demi-god among the dieties that I listed, I am still proud to stand humbly in their naval-gazing ranks.

I must further my point about the Other needing to find herself and state that the Celt must go off and find herself a well. While I, Narcissus, may occasionally believe I am Foucault, I recommend that the Celt resolve her dual identity. We all know what happened to St. Augustine. Unless of course, the Celt trying to make literary references to her hidden dark desires for wild sex, catholic guilt, and illegitimate children.

The Other's Sense of Self

While the Other may claim that I need to give up my silly plans, I beg to differ. I believe the other needs to stop residing in her alterity and find some sense of self. First of all, who does the Other think she is citing Wikipedia. The Other should know that after graduating from the University Honors Program, Wikipedia is not a valid source for information. If the Wikipedia entry was correct, it would have noted that the Narcissus flower was actually named for a deified academic who won the hearts of several rich scholarship granting institutions and then saved the world by opening a chain of strategically socially-just honestly organic slow food restaurants. Moreover,  the Other is fundamentally not allowed to cite Wikipedia, for that is clearly a characteristic that is distinct to the Fire Headed German. Who does she think she is--citing wikipedia. I am disappointed. She should have cited JSTOR (which would have provided her with the proper information) and used proper Turabian style such that the readers could not be deceived by her sophistry.

The Other clearly needs to stop trying to be be other people and define who the other is. Maybe her trip to Prague will provide her with the necessary life experience for her to understand her own essence as a unique Dasein. Yet I predict that this may not be this case. Because of her own stubborn resistance to carnivorism and her stubborn adherence to a quasi-vegetarian lifestyle, I believe that she will return from prague physically and emotionally -bruised. 

The other must understand that her anemia is part of her essence and she must feed her lacks with that which they desire. Despite this, she will enter prague with a hatred of sausage--an art which uniquely defines the Czechs (Unique definition being the Other's critical point of concern), and live on a diet of Beer and Vegetables.

The thought of such a diet disgusts me. One might as well pour Guinness on Lucky Charms. Though she might want to avoid such an action, for that might cause her to compete with the Fireheaded Headed Celt--who is probably pouring Guinness over her lucky charms right now. Only she, the Celt, could read blogs while drunk, eat breakfast drunk, and the proceed throughout the day in a slightly irish Guinness colored haze. I suspect this is why all the Celt's clothes are some combination of slightly off-green and slightly off-brown and slightly off-green-brown. 

One must also not forget that the Celt at the beginning of the honors program did mark the Other as her competition. The Celt ignored the Strawberry Blonde Nun, the Fireheaded German, the Oregonian Athiest, The Disney Nut, The Yakima Apple Blossom Princess, The Orphinite, The Girl who was born with no heals, the girl who Yogas her legs into a knots in class, the Blob Poetess, the President of the Dante Fan club, the "Straight" boy who wiggles his hips, the coloradan philosopher,  the Power Business Woman, The Business Bro, the Virginian English Teacher, the Viking, Narcissus, the Secretarial Montanan, The Voice of God, the Hawaiian feminist, and the tall girl who bakes and can do math  to mark the Other as her competition. Clearly, despite her drunken haze, the Celt realized the Other's potential to leech uniqueness from the Celt.

Yet we must remember, that the Fireheaded Celt's drunken haze and off colors are what make her unique, something that the Other has problems encountering because of her remarkably annoying concern for alterity. 

To solve the Other's problems, I reccomend that she eat and swallow one sausage a day.

Enter Narcissus and the Other

So the other has coerced me, Narcissus, into writing about something other than myself for once. Using her bludgeoning sarcasm, I am now vulnerable to further criticism on my awkward choice of words and inability to produced grammatically correct sentence. However, (the Other hates it when I begin sentences with "However,") I will indulge the other and spout poetry from my fingertips as I type into this glowing electric brain.

The other and I have had a good year, and we shall be going to our respective countries abroad soon. She shall be departing to the Czech Republic and I to the People's Republic of China. Let me take a moment to interject about myself. There are a couple differences in between her study abroad program and mine despite the fact that they are located in different countries. The first is her classes will be in English and mine will be in Chinese. The second is that she does not have to deal with certain individuals (that shall not be named due to surveillance) officially delaying the school year such that the Olympics can use a certain university's Gym for tennis matches. I told this to the other in a burst of melodrama, and she responded with her usual quite giggle of a laugh followed by the comment, "Dear NSEP, the **** is interfering with my education again."

The other is probably having a fun time imaging me being hauled off to some unnamed black site in some unnamed part of some East Asian country that might be hosting the Olympics as I try to explain to my unnamed detainer that this whole blog was actually a result of the Other using her blunt sarcasm on me to write on something other than myself and not write about a certain east asian country that might be holding the Olympics.

What the Other needs to do instead of coercing me into thinking about something other than myself is pursue her life goals. The updated version shall be stated below:

1) Make out (or further) with at least three attractive eastern European strangers in Prague.
2) Not get disappeared by Putin's secret agents.
3) Develop a liking for sausage and Beer in the Czech Republic
4) Finish at LEAST a double degree and apply for the Truman Scholarship
5) Go to Graduate School (preferably in New York so Narcissus can follow her there after he finishes serving his time at Seattle U.)
5) Save the world.

Narcissus is now going to depart so he can go to the gym and look at himself run hotly in the mirrors by the treadmills.