At 12 years old, I aspired to become a master magician. What about you?
January 17, 2008
By Brian Lewis-Jones
Allow me to put forward a couple of definitions:
(From American Heritage):
Friend, n.
1. A person whom one knows; an acquaintance.
2. A person with whom one is allied in a struggle or cause; a comrade.
(From me):
Jim, n.
1. A person who adventures through caterpillar-ridden Ithaca forests; bears resemblance to Daniel Stern.
2. A city-stricken person who criticizes televisions, et al.
Originally, “Friends of Jim” served as a clever pseudonym for a group of five KU journalism students (four Neitsches plus myself). In a summer project, we attempted to produce innovation for the Internets (a creation set to launch in the next month on Kansan.com). We named ourselves after a mountain man we met in Ithaca, New York. Yes, his name was Jim. No, his chest hair and beard had no clear separation.
I don't think a term like this can be limited to a group of five students. Hell, a friend of Jim could be anybody: a vagrant duder on the street, a bureaucratic buddy in a high-top - perhaps even I fit the ticket at 12 years old while trying to create illusions with a toy magic set. Not sure if my parents threw that magic wand away or not, but I could probably make a sweet living with it.
I suppose there are a few requirements for the club: a friend of Jim has to dig free speech, creativity and most of all, has to be able to catch a fly with chopsticks.
In case you were wondering, "Friend of Jim" is also the name of my blog. You weren't, were you?
I'll post stories, photographs, fiction, as well as thoughts about KU, pop culture, technology, the environment and probably whatever you send me. After all, what is a readership without some Vox Populi?

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