jellylegs

this blog has now moved here

352nd Harvard Commencement
Thursday, June 5, 2003

Class Day speech
June 4, 2003
Will Ferrell

NOTE: "There's an online video of thIs speech here. It's the entire graduation but forward to the 1:30:00 mark or so to get to Ferrell."



This is not the Worcester, Mass Boat Show, is it? I am sorry. I have made a terrible mistake. Ever since I left "Saturday Night Live," I mostly do public speaking now. And I must have made an error in the little Palm Pilot. Boy. Don't worry. I got it on me. I got the speech on me. Let's see. Ah, yes. Here we go.

You know, when Bill Gates first called me to speak to you today, I was honored. But when he wanted me to be one of the Roxbury guys, I -- Sorry, that's Microsoft. I'm sorry about that. Star Trek Convention. No. NRA. NAACP. Dow Chemical. No. But that is a good one. That is a good speech. The University of Michigan Law. Johns Hopkins Medical School. I'm sorry. Are you sure this is not the boat show? No, I have it. I do have it on me. I do. It's here. Thank you.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Distinguished Faculty, Administrators, Friends and Family and, of course, the graduating Class of 2003, I wish to say hello and thank you for bestowing this honor upon me as your Class Day speaker. After months of secret negotiations, several hundred secret ballots, and a weekend retreat with Vice President Dick Cheney in his secret mountain bunker, a Class Day speaker was chosen, and it was me. You obviously have made a grave error. But it's too late now. So let's just go with it.

Today's speech is going to be a little different, a little unorthodox. Some of you may find it to be shocking. I'm not going to stand up here and try to be funny. Because even though I am a professional comedian of the highest caliber, I've decided to do one thing that a lot of people are probably afraid to do, and that's give it to you straight.

As most of you are probably aware, I didn't graduate from Harvard. In fact, I never even got a call back from Admissions. Damn you, Harvard! Damn you! I told myself I would not get emotional today. But damn it, I'm here, and sometimes it's just good to cry.

I'm not one of you. Okay? I can't relate to who you are and what you've been through. I graduated from the University of Life. All right? I received a degree from the School of Hard Knocks. And our colors were black and blue, baby. I had office hours with the Dean of Bloody Noses. All right? I borrowed my class notes from Professor Knuckle Sandwich and his Teaching Assistant, Ms. Fat Lip Thon Nyun. That's the kind of school I went to for real, okay?

So my gift to you, Class of 2003, is to tell you about the real world through my eyes, through my experiences. And I'm sorry, but I refuse to sugarcoat it. I ain't gonna do it. And I probably shouldn't use the word "ain't" during this day in which we celebrate education. But that's just the way I play it, Homes.

Graduates, if you will indulge me for a moment, let me paint a picture of what it's like out there. The last four or, for some of you, five years you've been living in a fantasyland, running around, talking about Hemingway, or Clancy, or, I don't know, I mean whatever you read here at Harvard. The Novelization of the Matrix, I don't know. I don't know what you do here.

But I do know this. You're about to enter into a world filled with hypocrisy and doublespeak, a world in which your limo to the airport is often a half-hour late. In addition to not even being a limo at all; often times it's a Lincoln Towncar. You're about to enter a world where you ask your new assistant, Jamie, to bring you a tall, non-fat latte. And he comes back with a short soy cappuccino. Guess what, Jamie? You're fired. Not too hard to get right, my friend.

A world where your acting coach, Bob Leslie-Duncan -- yes, the Bob Leslie-Duncan -- tells you time and time again that you will never, ever be considered as a dramatic actor because you don't play things real, and are too over the top. Amazing! Simply amazing!

I'm sorry, graduates. But this is a world where you aren't allowed to use your cell phone in airplanes, during live theater, at the movies, at funerals, or even during your own elective surgery. Apparently, the Berlin Wall went back up because we now live in Russia. I mean just try lighting up a cigar in a movie theater or paying for a dinner for 20 friends with an autograph. It ain't that easy. Strong words, I know. Tough talk. But more like tough love. Because this is where my faith in you guys comes into play, Harvard University's graduating Class of 2003, without a doubt, the finest, most talented group of sexual beings this great land has to offer.

Now I know I blew some of your minds with my depiction of what it's really like out there. But if anyone can handle the ups and downs of this crazy blue marble we call Planet Earth, it's you guys. As I stare out into this vast sea of shining faces, I see the best and brightest. Some of you will be captains of industry and business. Others of you will go on to great careers in medicine, law and public service. Four of you -- and I'm not at liberty to say which four -- will go on to magnificent careers in the porno industry. I'm not trying to be funny. That's just a statistical fact.

One of you, specifically John Lee, will spend most of your time just hanging out in your car eating nachos. You will all come back from time to time to this beautiful campus for reunions, and ask the question, "Does anyone ever know what happened to John Lee?" At that point, he will invariably pop out from the bushes and yell, "Nachos anyone?!" At first, it will scare the crap out of you. But then you'll share a laugh with your classmates and ultimately look forward to John jumping out of the bushes as a yearly event.

I'd like to change gears here, if I could. Talk a little bit about "Saturday Night Live." Now, during my 18-year stint on the show, I had the chance to play or impersonate some very interesting people, none more interesting than our current President, Mr. George W. Bush. Now in some cases, you actually have contact with some of the people you play. As a byproduct of this former situation, the President and myself have become quite good friends. In fact, I might even call him a father figure of sorts, granted a dim-witted father figure who likes to take a lot of naps and start wars, but a father figure nonetheless.

When I told the President that I'd be speaking here today, he wondered if I would express some sentiments to you. And I said I'd do my best. So, if you don't mind, I'd like to read this message from the President of the United States.

Students, Faculty, Families and Distinguished Guests, I just want to take time to congratulate you on your outstanding achievement as graduates of the Class of 2002. The great thing about being the Class of 2002 is that you can always remember what year you graduated because 2002 is a palindrome which, of course, is a word or number that is the same read backwards or forwards. I'll bet you're surprised I know that word, but I do. So you can suck on it.

Make no mistake, Harvard University is one of the finest in the land. And its graduates are that fine as well. You're young men and women whose exuberance exude a confident confidence of a bygone era. I believe it was Shakespeare who said it best when he said, "Look yonder into the darkness for knowledge onto which I say go onto that which thou possess into thy night for thee have come with only a single sword and vanquished thee into darkness."

I'm going to be honest with you, I just made that up. But I don't know how to delete it from the computer. Tomorrow's graduation day speaker is former President of Mexico Ernesto Zedillo. Ernie's a good man, a deeply religious man, and one of the original members of the Latino boy band Menudo. So listen up to Ernie. He was at the beginning of the whole boy band explosion.

As you set off into the world, don't be afraid to question your leaders. But don't ask too many questions at one time or that are too hard because your leaders get tired and/or cranky. All of you sitting here have the brightest of futures ahead. Many of you will go on to stellar careers and various pursuits. And four of you -- and I'm not at liberty to say which four -- will go on to star in the porno industry.

One of the challenges you will be faced with is finding a job in our depressed economy. In fact, the chances of landing a decent job are about as good as finding weapons of mass destruction in the Iraqi desert. Slim and none. And Slim just left the building. In fact, the closest thing I found to looking like a weapon of mass destruction is the turd that Dick Cheney left in the Oval Office toilet about an hour ago. Man, that thing is a WMD if I've ever seen one. On that note, God bless and happy graduation.

You know, I sincerely hope you enjoy this next chapter of your life because it's really going to be great, as long as you pay your taxes. And don't just take a year off because you think Uncle Sam is snoozing at the wheel because he will descend upon you like a hawk from hell. Let's just put it this way. After some past indiscretions with the IRS, my take-home pay last year was $9,000.

I figured I'd leave you today with a song, if you will. So, Jeff, if you could come up here. Jeff Heck, everyone. Please welcome one of your fellow graduates. Jeff is, of course, from Eliot House. You know what you guys? You guys at Eliot House, give yourselves a nice round of applause because you had the head lice scare this year, and it shut you down for most of last semester. But you didn't mind the tents they set up for you, and you were just troopers. You really were.

Anyway, here's a song that I think really captures the essence of the Harvard experience. It goes a little like this.

[SINGING]
I close my eyes, only for a moment, and the moment's gone,
All my dreams, pass before my eyes, a curiosity.
Dust in the wind, all they are is dust in the wind.
Same old song, just a drop of water in an endless sea,
All we do, crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see.
Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind.

Okay, you know what? I'm just realizing that this is a terrible graduation song. Once again, I'm sorry. This is the first time I've actually listened to the lyrics. Man, it's a downer. It's bleak.

Boy, I want to finish this. Just give me a minute, and let me figure out how to fix this thing. Okay. I think I got it.

[SINGING]
Now don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the Harvard alumni endowment fund.
It adds up, has performed at 22 percent growth over the last six years.
Dust in the wind, you're so much more than dust in the wind.
Dust in the wind, you're shiny little very smart pieces of dust in the wind.

Thank you. Good luck. And have a great day tomorrow.

yesterday i went on the dave fanning show to talk about Pete Doherty. Was good fun although Dave is certainly not a Doherty fan. What can you do. Click here if you want to hear. I was on the Wednesday.

In other news can't wait to see the wallace and gromit movie tomorrow.

Went to see Kate Rusby last night at vicar st. Excellent gig and review to follow. She's an eccentric and very warm performer.more later

I went home for the weekend. Back to Meath. It’s funny how the older I’ve got the more attracted to my home village I’ve got. I put a lot of this down to learning. Learning about Dublin, that it’s not all that. And learning about people, of which in the city are more rushed, dramatic, consumed. More urban and city like I suppose, which is obvious to point out but I’m sure you know what I mean. I guess most cities are the same. I certainly got that in London. That feeling amongst people that nothing matters much outside of their own lives, and that nothing outside of London matters either. There’s a feeling that the capital is detached from the rest of the UK and I think that that’s felt in law-making as well. It’s very easy when living in London to forget that there’s a world going on outside of it.

Dublin too is starting to feel like that for me. Especially through the media. Just reading the newspapers and watching the news you sometimes do feel that, as Dublin grows and evermore becomes the hub of activity, the rest of Ireland is forgotten. In my own insignificant away I get a sense of this as well. I’m also prone to forgetting about the rest of the country. When writing an article or a review, or a headline in The Star, it sometimes takes you aback that a guy in Donegal, Mayo or Cork may read it the following week/ day. I often think I’m just writing for a small portion of people centred around Whelan’s, and perhaps in a sense I am writing for an isolated bunch. I don’t know though if it’s my own narrow mind or pretence that I’m surprised other people know of Death Cab For Cutie or love Bright Eyes or are familiar with Julie Delpy’s recorded work. Silly but I feel in the city, like the city, I’m becoming small minded and forgetful of the world out there.

I think I’ll go home again next weekend, if only for one night. Make it a regular thing eh.

On another note, how bad were Ireland on Saturday. I nearly burst a blood vessel shouting at the TV. I just can’t understand how guys who play week in week out at the top level, who know a win is a must, can play so poorly. The defence was a disgrace – no organisation. They sat back and let the Cypriots attack them. It happened almost immediately after the goal and was depressingly expected. We showed great urgency which resulted in the goal on five minutes. We pressurised them, ran at them, hounded them and got our reward. But then we sat back!

It was as if the team had decided to just sit on the lead.

Kavanagh in midfield, a decent player, showed none of the hustle or fight which he needed to. He should have taken the game by the scruff of the neck and along with Kilbane pushed play up the field. We should have been defending outside the semi circle just on our half rather than the fucking penalty box. I’ve seen bad Irish performances, the majority during this campaign it must be said, but that was the worst. On the note of Brian Kerr, I’d give him the benefit of the doubt. He’s the only Irish manager ever that can claim to have won anything of significance in his management career. He needs time, though I’d like to see him move quicker through the ranks players like Stephen Ireland, Willo Flood and McGeady. We’re very stale at the moment and an easy team to suppress. Just mark out Duff and Robbie Keane and we’re fucked.

Kerr should not take full blame. This is a team who were dragged to the World Cup in 2002 by Roy Keane. You can’t neglect it is he who carried the team to the world cup. A collective togetherness and fight perhaps buoyed on by Saipan took them through that tournament, though we were carelessly ill prepared for penalties, an inevitability of any world cup tournament. In the euro 2004 qualifiers we thought we were better than we were and were punished. Nothing to do with the manager but rather the lack of quality or leadership in the squad. Again that has come to the fore in this campaign. We really need to re-draw the map. I hope we qualify for 2006, and beat Switzerland on Wednesday. I’ll be hopeful and shout my lungs out for the team, but hand on heart I don’t think we’ll do it. The Swiss are too tight defensively and we’re little or no creative players in our squad doing the business. Duff is out, though it’s an age since he has played a good 90 minutes in an Irish shirt. He never shows hunger. Ditto with Robbie Keane who is playing well for Spurs because he’s something to prove though again with Ireland doesn’t seem to treat the shirt with the same respect or give the same fight. Roy Keane is another matter altogether. You can count on him. Against the French last month he was immense. He always is even though his talent is in decline. Most of all for his sake I hope we qualify on Wednesday. At least give him a fitting swan song in an Irish shirt.

Finally, I just interviewed The Guggenheim Grotto, an Irish band and am impressed with their record Waltzing Alone. Nicely packaged but will discuss later.

Over and out

It's lunch time, and I'm tired. Tired. Damien Kiberd is speaking on Newstalk about schools and drugs and teachings and mugs. Setting up a business is next on the agenda. Moving forward and moving up. Every one wanting to get rich, and get rich quick. The hole in New Dublin has brought with it climers, and slippers, slippers and jumpers, jumpers and rogues. It's a struggle.

Babyshambles have announced details of their new album
It's called Down In Albion, a three part, 16 track record. Hope it's good. Got a feeling it's going to lack punch and quality. The eye is off the prize. Revenge is in the air

Also today been listening quite alot to Kirby's house by Razorlight, taken from the new Help album. It's getting alot of good word written about it from those who never liked Razorlight. It is a grower, though am not overly impressed. maybe it was built up to much for me. I do love the line though:
I get drunk and sentimental/ I just need a touch that is gentle
over and out

shoop shoop, shopp de-lang-a-lang
shoop shoop, shopp de-lang-a-lang
shoop shoop, shopp de-lang-a-lang
shoop shoop, shopp de-lang-a-lang
And my pins are none to strong katie......................................................................

entering my last week as resident of my LOndon flat. this is it. got work to do
arrghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

shoop shoop, shopp de-lang-a-lang
shoop shoop, shopp de-lang-a-lang
oh whatcha gonna do stevie
It's a cruel cruel world, a cruel cruel world.

Guy I went to school with is fronting a new band from Mullingar called The Blizzards and they're pretty good. Mp3's available on their site here
They have just signed a management deal with Marcus Russell who also manages Oasis.
Yee should all try go to their gig in Whelans on September 11th.

More Great pics here

Will post my own feeble attempts in due course, One of which is in the current issue of Hot Press

So I've just had a life changing experience..... On the newt today, checking out The libertines (Whom I believe to be the greatest rock/punk band ever). Pete Doherty posts one of his regular ramblings on the babyshambles site...bacisicly says be at Mount Pleasent sorting office at 6..across the road are 4 red phone boxes..at 6:05 they will all ring..follow instructions. So at 6.05 we are directed to pete's flat a couple of feet away. Me and O are first to the door, up the stairs to number 2 where we knock on the doo. Pete doherty (white as a ghost due to his heroin addiction) opens the door and says welcome as we shake his hand. We wander in to his front room, which is about half the size of Amy and Franks front room. Theres a mike sticking out of the top of a hoover which is being used as a makeshift mike stand. 30-40 people pack into the room and pete wanders in with bowls of haribo sweets, "they set me back 80 quid" and throws around cans of special brew and gins and vodkas. A guy called andrew does a short set but the mike, running through computer speakers, is awful. Pete jumps in and trys his luck at the mike and electric but the sound is horrible so he urges all to be quiet and sings without mike and plays acoustic. He comes across as a very shy introverted guy. Initially he sings very low before his confidence builds and he begins to belt out the songs. libertines, babyshambles and new songs he's just written. It's mind blowing. Really folky sounding and...just unbelievable. The guy is pure genius.The banter is great. It's like a friends get together. People ask what the next babyshambles tune is like and he responds "want to hear it? hold on till I hook up the laptop" He procedes to play newly recorded tunes through the laptop before switiching to songs from the ne libs album (Which he dances around too) and then "the songs that didn't make it..but I love". He then breaks into tunes on the guitar, takes requests, wrestles on the floor and gets every one to write a message on his laptop which he intends to post. Wearing a hat it occasionly falls off his end allowing a suspious roll of tin foil fall out under. He is very embarrassed picking it up and its sad to see. We leave each with a hug from the man, a cheers for coming. Fuckin' great. What other band, star,etc would do this? Why don't they? Libertine's pride themselves on being inclusive-no boundaries between fans and band. LONDON. Will never forget tonight. Go on the good ship Albion!

So I've just had a life changing experience..... On the newt today, checking out The libertines (Whom I believe to be the greatest rock/punk band ever). Pete Doherty posts one of his regular ramblings on the babyshambles site...bacisicly says be at Mount Pleasent sorting office at 6..across the road are 4 red phone boxes..at 6:05 they will all ring..follow instructions. So at 6.05 we are directed to pete's flat a couple of feet away. Me and O are first to the door, up the stairs to number 2 where we knock on the doo. Pete doherty (white as a ghost due to his heroin addiction) opens the door and says welcome as we shake his hand. We wander in to his front room, which is about half the size of Amy and Franks front room. Theres a mike sticking out of the top of a hoover which is being used as a makeshift mike stand. 30-40 people pack into the room and pete wanders in with bowls of haribo sweets, "they set me back 80 quid" and throws around cans of special brew and gins and vodkas. A guy called andrew does a short set but the mike, running through computer speakers, is awful. Pete jumps in and trys his luck at the mike and electric but the sound is horrible so he urges all to be quiet and sings without mike and plays acoustic. He comes across as a very shy introverted guy. Initially he sings very low before his confidence builds and he begins to belt out the songs. libertines, babyshambles and new songs he's just written. It's mind blowing. Really folky sounding and...just unbelievable. The guy is pure genius.The banter is great. It's like a friends get together. People ask what the next babyshambles tune is like and he responds "want to hear it? hold on till I hook up the laptop" He procedes to play newly recorded tunes through the laptop before switiching to songs from the ne libs album (Which he dances around too) and then "the songs that didn't make it..but I love". He then breaks into tunes on the guitar, takes requests, wrestles on the floor and gets every one to write a message on his laptop which he intends to post. Wearing a hat it occasionly falls off his end allowing a suspious roll of tin foil fall out under. He is very embarrassed picking it up and its sad to see. We leave each with a hug from the man, a cheers for coming. Fuckin' great. What other band, star,etc would do this? Why don't they? Libertine's pride themselves on being inclusive-no boundaries between fans and band. LONDON. Will never forget tonight. Go on the good ship Albion!

So I've just had a life changing experience..... On the newt today, checking out The libertines (Whom I believe to be the greatest rock/punk band ever). Pete Doherty posts one of his regular ramblings on the babyshambles site...bacisicly says be at Mount Pleasent sorting office at 6..across the road are 4 red phone boxes..at 6:05 they will all ring..follow instructions. So at 6.05 we are directed to pete's flat a couple of feet away. Me and O are first to the door, up the stairs to number 2 where we knock on the doo. Pete doherty (white as a ghost due to his heroin addiction) opens the door and says welcome as we shake his hand. We wander in to his front room, which is about half the size of Amy and Franks front room. Theres a mike sticking out of the top of a hoover which is being used as a makeshift mike stand. 30-40 people pack into the room and pete wanders in with bowls of haribo sweets, "they set me back 80 quid" and throws around cans of special brew and gins and vodkas. A guy called andrew does a short set but the mike, running through computer speakers, is awful. Pete jumps in and trys his luck at the mike and electric but the sound is horrible so he urges all to be quiet and sings without mike and plays acoustic. He comes across as a very shy introverted guy. Initially he sings very low before his confidence builds and he begins to belt out the songs. libertines, babyshambles and new songs he's just written. It's mind blowing. Really folky sounding and...just unbelievable. The guy is pure genius.The banter is great. It's like a friends get together. People ask what the next babyshambles tune is like and he responds "want to hear it? hold on till I hook up the laptop" He procedes to play newly recorded tunes through the laptop before switiching to songs from the ne libs album (Which he dances around too) and then "the songs that didn't make it..but I love". He then breaks into tunes on the guitar, takes requests, wrestles on the floor and gets every one to write a message on his laptop which he intends to post. Wearing a hat it occasionly falls off his end allowing a suspious roll of tin foil fall out under. He is very embarrassed picking it up and its sad to see. We leave each with a hug from the man, a cheers for coming. Fuckin' great. What other band, star,etc would do this? Why don't they? Libertine's pride themselves on being inclusive-no boundaries between fans and band. LONDON. Will never forget tonight. Go on the good ship Albion!