tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-315912562024-03-08T03:55:34.137-05:00what you dreamUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger73125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-39590886430988833102008-02-19T14:41:00.003-05:002008-02-19T14:51:51.529-05:00On the BusI like it when I'm able to laugh at angry people. Today, when I got on the bus, everyone decided it would be a good idea to just stand right inside the doors, so that I barely missed them closing on me. Once inside, I saw that basically the entire bus was open, and that people were just blocking the way. Saying, "Excuse me," I started to head back to the back of the bus since clearly everyone was just going to stand there obliviously, but as I was going through one particularly tight squeeze, with one very overweight person on my right and another person on my left (who has a roll-around suitcase at her feet), I hear the woman on my left say very loudly, "Excuse me. Ex<span style="font-style: italic;">cuse</span> me!" I look back, once I've almost fallen over because the bus is moving and I'm trying my hardest not to touch anyone and these people refused to move at all to accommodate me passing by, and find to my surprise that this woman is addressing me. Keep in mind that she is about a foot taller than me, and a decent weight, so probably about 60 or 70 pounds heavier. "You almost knocked me over back there." I smiled, thinking she was joking, since there is absolutely no way I could have knocked this woman over, even trying my hardest. I lost the smile pretty quickly, though, when I realized she was <span style="font-style: italic;">very</span> angry about it, and told her I had been trying to get past her to make room for people getting on the bus. "Yeah, and you nearly knocked me over doing it." At this point, the interchange had become a scene, and everyone on the bus was staring at us. I wanted so badly to note that she had clearly been making it a point to <span style="font-style: italic;">not</span> let me through when I said excuse me, and that it was only as a result of her arbitrary, bullying stubbornness that our coats even came into physical contact, but of course, I apologized, saying that hadn't been my intention. Nostrils flaring and head cocked to the side, she said "OK," and proceeded to move herself out of the aisle so that boarding passengers could get by.<br /><br />::sigh::Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-35668962135768543272008-02-18T13:26:00.001-05:002008-02-18T13:28:06.066-05:00Music UpdateSo Neutral Milk Hotel's "In the Aeroplane Over the Sea" is the best thing I've heard in an incredibly long time. Why didn't I know about this? How did it exist without me finding it?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-35128551490317990152008-02-12T16:04:00.000-05:002008-02-12T16:11:29.466-05:00MusicSo after about six years of listening to nothing but slow, soft, usually melancholy music, I think I'm ready for a change. Maybe the past two or three years of not being overly interested in music have geared me up for a switch. I sometimes hear music via my friends, but it's hard to listen while other stuff is going on. I want something a little less soft, sometimes more fun, but still sometimes sad or melancholy. But here's the thing: I haven't really listened in so long, I don't even know where to start. Here are my criteria, and I'm begging for your suggestions:<br /><br />1. It has to be sincere. Whatever it sounds like and whatever the lyrics are, I've gotta <span style="font-style: italic;">believe</span> the singer.<br /><br />That's it. A single criterion. So please, your suggestions will be greatly appreciated.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-58286811911939340752008-02-11T15:10:00.000-05:002008-02-11T15:11:50.676-05:00Things You Never Knew About George Washington<a href="http://richandrare.wordpress.com/2007/08/22/hell-save-children-but-not-the-british-children/">This</a> is ridiculous.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-47760188469909987352008-02-11T00:43:00.000-05:002008-02-11T01:31:00.811-05:00If I Were RealSo I'll just come right out and tell you because you're not here and it won't seem like I'm giving you an unbearable burden by letting you know that I have actual, real-live feelings: When I came to this place, I had no idea what I was getting into. It's just. so. hard. And not hard like writing papers was hard as an undergrad, or hard like work can be hard sometimes, but hard like I might not be able to do this. I know I can do the work, but why do it at all? I often forget that I'm a real person, and that other people know I'm a real person, and that somewhere, someone in the world actually <span style="font-style: italic;">cares </span>that I'm a real person. <br /><br />What I miss most of all about having close friends around is that reminder that I'm alive, and that I really am the way I think I am. Being alone so much of the time leaves me almost entirely without a sense of self, which is made more difficult since I'm also trying to figure out who I am without my father and my religion. It's difficult not to be self-absorbed here, but those times when I'm most focused on others are the times I start to lose touch with reality. This place is not reality. I will be gone in four months and probably never see anyone here again.<br /><br />And yet...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-85812684791010500212008-02-05T23:36:00.001-05:002008-02-05T23:37:42.372-05:00Still not a real postI'll really write at some point, but those of you who have played the original Super Mario Bros. might enjoy <a href="http://couplegaming.com/2008/01/07/and-you-thought-your-video-game-was-hard/">this</a>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-29298810449043662612008-01-29T16:17:00.000-05:002008-01-29T16:24:10.704-05:00OK Seriously<span style="font-family: arial;">I'll seriously post something soon, but I smiled at some of these atheist bumper stickers:</span><br /><ol style="font-family: arial;"><li>JESUS SAVES...You From Thinking For Yourself</li><li>The Family That Prays Together Is Brainwashing the Children</li><li>"Worship Me Or I Will Torture You Forever. Have A Nice Day." -God</li><li>If There Is No God, Then What Makes the Next Kleenex Pop Up?</li><li>INTELLIGENT DESIGN: Helping Stupid People Feel Smart Since 1987</li></ol><span style="font-family: arial;">I just think they're funny; I don't necessarily agree with them. But I probably do, for the most part. Just kidding. Or not.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-40485549876737783272008-01-15T23:08:00.000-05:002008-01-15T23:09:42.514-05:00I'll post for real soon...<object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://www.collegehumor.com/moogaloop/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=1789086&fullscreen=1" width="480" height="360" ><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="movie" quality="best" value="http://www.collegehumor.com/moogaloop/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=1789086&fullscreen=1" /></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-22625826241903927202007-12-03T15:09:00.000-05:002007-12-03T15:14:41.428-05:0024 HoursKnow how I know this isn't a safe neighborhood? There are over 20,000 students here, and there's not one all-night diner or cafe. Whereas necessity drove me and many others to the gas station or Wal-Mart for places to talk during my undergraduate years, that trend hasn't spread to the Dunkin' Donuts that stays open 24 hours here. I'll pass on hanging out with the locals who hang out at Dunkin' Donuts at 2:00 in the morning.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-19862913805199998942007-11-11T21:56:00.000-05:002007-11-11T22:52:05.948-05:00Right?Let me start this by saying I'm not aware that anyone who reads this blog is guilty of doing the thing I'm about to talk about, so I'm not trying to call you out.<br /><br />Imagine a person giving the following explanation to you. Imagine that this is just a normal person, not good, not bad, not pretty, not ugly. And don't pay attention to the inane content. "Well, I mean, the story is clearly about the resolution of the Oedipal crisis, right? Cortazar obviously intended that as a surface reading." What you may have skipped over but has gone past irritating and onto hilarious for me, is the little word, "right."<br /><br />"Right?" is not a useful thing to say. Not when you're explaining something, not when you're describing something, not saying anything at all. It does not add anything to an explanation, and it is usually just an attempt on behalf of the speaker to cover all their bases so they don't look stupid in the event they're wrong, or more likely, it's an attempt to make them look smarter and make you look stupid in the midst of a discussion. When a person says "Right?" in this way, the implication is either 1) that what the person is saying is incredibly obvious and will not be disputed, in which case it's a superfluous rhetorical device that still sounds patronizing, or 2) that what the person is saying is not at all obvious, but they're trying to make it sound like it is so that if you disagree, you look like an idiot, because their tone already made it clear that what they were saying is obvious.<br /><br />Everyone around here does this, and I once caught myself doing it and was horrified and apologized to the person immediately. I have probably done this more often than I'm aware of, since it's in the air here, and to those who have spoken to me recently, my sincerest apologies. But I will try my best to avoid it, no matter how many professors and students do it. The only time I will do it (the only time anyone should do it) is if I feel like I'm going crazy. If, for example, I suspect that there might be a man floating outside my fourth-floor window, I might turn to the person next to me and say, "That's not a man floating outside my window, right?" In that case, I would be asking a genuine question which required an assuring answer. Or it might even be okay if I needed assurance in other areas of my life (e.g. "I don't smell bad, right?"). But that is certainly the exception, not the rule.<br /><br />Obviously, it's a play for confidence that hardly anyone in graduate school actually has, but the lack of self-awareness here is slightly disturbing.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-74249616830073032532007-11-04T00:22:00.000-04:002007-11-04T00:24:50.440-04:00Personal DNAIf you're into this sort of thing, I thought <a href="http://www.personaldna.com/tests.php">this personality test</a> was fun to take and had interesting results. My results are in that pill-shaped thing to the right; if you mouse over the colors, it says what they represent.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-1866967472086838562007-10-30T18:55:00.000-04:002007-10-30T18:56:39.195-04:00I Need ProofIf you ever needed proof, <a href="http://www.godisimaginary.com">here it is</a>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-55943809829253272592007-10-29T20:39:00.000-04:002007-10-29T20:44:57.604-04:00Panic! at the UniversityNot funny, I know.<br /><br />So I just read some huge chunks of Kant's Third <em>Critique</em>, which talks about making aesthetic and teleological judgments. I think I actually understood it, which is great.<br /><br />But now I can't remember what you're supposed to say about philosophy. When you write about books and movies, you talk about the things that are in them; there's no right or wrong. As one of my professors often says (and I think I will be saying or thinking this for the rest of my life), "Henry James said, 'In the arts, feeling is always meaning.'" And even if that's not true, just pick any number of critical perspectives and go at the text, and it works out.<br /><br />Philosophy is totally different, though. I'm not sure I have intelligent questions about it. Kant seems right to me (as he does to everybody at this university), and even if he didn't, who am I to think I could come up with a decent argument against him. I guess I'll just try to relate it to Goethe somehow, which is what the class is about, anyway...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-72123612390547713962007-10-25T17:57:00.000-04:002007-10-25T18:04:56.178-04:00GutsSo that professor, the one who pretty much humiliated that girl? Well, I went to talk to him today. No, not about that. I finally got up the nerve not only to answer a question during class - he had prefaced his question by saying there was no wrong answer - but to ask him a "serious" question afterwards. And guess what? He was extremely nice. After answering my questions, he asked me about why I'm here, my background, where I think I'm heading. And it wasn't phrased in the way that so many people around here phrase things, which always implies, "Are you really supposed to be here?" He even knew my undergrad university and was able to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">commiserate</span> about how limiting a school like that can be.<br /><br />But of course, now that I'm looking back, I'm incredibly anxious. Did I say something stupid and not even realize it? Was he just humoring me the whole time? He seemed really interested in talking to me. He encouraged conversation when he could have ended it any time. It wasn't even during his office hours. I wish I could just be content, knowing that we had a decent conversation, and that I can feel free to talk to him in the future.<br /><br />Anyway, it felt like writing these thoughts out might help, and maybe it has.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-46979060216472112142007-10-22T20:24:00.001-04:002007-10-22T20:33:37.674-04:00Please StopThis is an open letter to everyone who lives in Chicago.<br /><br />Dear Chicago drivers,<br /><br />Do you really think that the proper way to exit an alley, particularly the one out my bedroom window, is to honk and just keep going? Any time of night or day, you really believe this is the rule? Let me set the record straight: There has never existed and will never exist a rule for driving which says this. Stop. Look both ways for pedestrians. Then go.<br /><br />Please, please, please stop honking. Please? I tried to write to my alderman, but she said all they can do is put up a speed-limit sign, that stop signs aren't allowed in alleys. So there, I tried to be nice about it, I tried the legal route, but I might have to start going crazy on your asses.<br /><br />Would it help if I passed out fliers and put them on all your cars? Would it help if I smashed your windshield, like some crazy person did to the car sitting out in front of my building that's been parked three-quarters of a car-length away from the bus stop zone? If I asked nicely, would you stop? If I held up a sign all day saying "Please don't honk any more" would consider it or just try to run me over?<br /><br />I don't have money to bribe you and I won't have sex with you to make you stop, but I'd be willing to do some things. Just ask.<br /><br />Love,Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-86881151725601611292007-10-21T11:40:00.000-04:002007-10-21T11:45:23.471-04:00Primer & Get Well SoonPrimer<br />I'm sure this film won first place at a university film festival somewhere, but it has no business being on Netflix. If you can't understand their version of time travel from the voiceover explanations, you certainly won't get any help from what's happening on screen. These college kids had a decent idea for a movie, but the terrible acting, mediocre dialog and obviously low budget didn't add up to anything worth watching.<br /><br />Get Well Soon<br />You should only see this movie if you're a big Vincent Gallo fan, and I happen to be one of those lucky few. There are actually some pretty funny moments, thanks to him, but the rest of the film is full of cheesy acting and a pretty terrible plot. And who would ever believe Courtney Cox and Vincent Gallo as a couple?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-18605200934403410712007-10-12T12:29:00.000-04:002007-10-12T12:42:38.446-04:00SharksYou know how I know this is a cut-throat program? The other day in class - and this is a lecture with around 150 people in it, including every person in my program, the two directors of the program, and our preceptors (PhD students who lead our discussion groups) - we were talking about a play we had all gone to see, and the lecturer asked something along the lines of, "What do you think the director was trying to do by staging the play in such a way that it blurred the lines between the time in which it was written and present-day?" A woman raised her hand and responded something like this: "I think she was trying to make us realize the importance and relevance of the play for a modern audience, to help us understand that the themes apply to our culture, not just that of Roman times."<br /><br />Okay, now, I know enough not to give this response. It's the easy response to "Why are the arts important?" But it could just as easily have been a question to which I didn't know the answer, and thought I did. This woman could have been me.<br /><br />The lecturer said, smiling, "Well, um, any time someone makes a comment like that I - like Nietzsche said - I reach for my gun," and he made the blowing-my-brains-out gesture. But that wasn't what made me realize that no one here cares about any other person's success or well being. It was this: Almost everyone in the lecture hall laughed. I could feel humiliation burning my tear ducts and my temples, turning my face red. I can't imagine that that did anything less than break that woman's spirit. I watched her for the rest of the class, and she kept shaking her head at what he was saying, with a sneer on her face, and making comments to the person sitting next to her, loud enough so that I could hear. Things like, "That's not what he said before."<br /><br />I'm just going to keep my head down, write my papers, and only raise my hand if I'm sure I know the answer.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-65057585328402555862007-09-29T00:33:00.000-04:002007-09-29T00:38:38.441-04:00What are YOU studying?Why do I have to answer this question? When you're an undergrad, it's enough to simply <em>state</em> your major. You don't have to have some lifelong purpose behind it. You don't have to have traveled extensively in Europe to be interested in European literature, and you don't have to have grown up with a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">mathematician</span> for a father to do game theory. Isn't it enough that I'm here? That I'm interested in what I'm studying and that I'm trying my best to understand what we're talking about?<br /><br />The question, "Why are you taking that class?" only means "Why do you think you're good enough to be here?" I mentioned I might be interested in literature of the Americas, and someone asked me, "Oh, well, where have you traveled then?" Like it's a prerequisite to read something to have actually been in the place from which it originated. <br /><br />Fucking bullshit people.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-89017944565209253592007-09-28T19:08:00.001-04:002007-09-28T19:10:18.153-04:00Great Success!So somehow, I must have faked my way through <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Lacan</span>. Fools, you think he's actually <em>saying</em> something! You think <em>I</em> think he's saying something! Ha!<br /><br />Well, one presentation down, seven papers left to write over the next nine weeks. Here's hoping.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-44427550012107798322007-09-25T10:36:00.000-04:002007-09-25T10:49:51.342-04:00Naomi KleinSo on Friday night, I went to see Naomi Klein speak at a little event here. You might have read her book, <strong><em>No Logo</em></strong>, a few years ago, and now she has a new book out. Anyway, I went in thinking it would be kind of propagandist, and wasn't heartened when there were war protesters handing out tons of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">fliers</span> outside the event when I walked in. <br /><br />Her whole thesis is just really interesting, though. Maybe it's not her idea, but she's calling this "new economy" which seems to be thriving on natural disasters and terrorism, "disaster capitalism." As opposed to the dot-com capitalism of the 90s, where rich equals flashy, this capitalism is secretive, trying to hide their wealth. And we're not doing anything about it because we don't know about it because they're good at hiding it. She's proposing that the only way to overcome the "shocks" (her book is <strong><em>The Shock Doctrine</em></strong>) we've sustained is to reclaim history, and by understanding it to have our eyes opened to what's going on now.<br /><br />I'm always hesitant to read a book like that, since I know hardly anything about economics, and even less about history, politics and current events. I'd like to learn things for myself and then decide, instead of having someone present information in such a way as to render me unable to make my own conclusions. (Not that every history book doesn't have its own point of view.) But there's only so much time to read things, and if this idea makes sense on the face of it, and she had obviously done her research, I suppose it couldn't hurt to take this shortcut.<br /><br />Do you think it's probably not a good idea to read a book like that for information, rather than to find out one person's opinion? Not that your opinions will stop me.<br /><br />(By the way, an interesting tidbit. I was sitting there, waiting for this thing to start, and all of a sudden there's this really tall guy blocking the light near me. I look up, and it's John <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Cusack</span>. I was like, weird, John <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Cusack's</span> here. I guess he must be a big fan. (This thing was held in sort of a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">shithole</span>.) Turns out he was there to introduce her, and they're friends. Funny.)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-88916915733806115492007-09-24T19:46:00.000-04:002007-09-24T19:51:59.112-04:00First DayPretty uneventful, with only one class. Basically just handed out the syllabus. Interesting, though, because this professor's thing is "close reading," which obviously I should have done plenty of as an undergrad, but haven't, at least not with a cogent argument driving it. Close reading will be a part of anything I do with literature, so even if it would be remedial for some people, I need to learn how to do it well.<br /><br />(Close reading is what it sounds like, by the way. Just looking at the way a text is structured, what kinds of effects word choices and syntax have. He gave this whole spiel about Henry <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">James's</span> quote, "In the arts, feeling is always meaning." I don't quite see how you get around the fact that there really are <em><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">mis</span></em>readings of texts, but oh well. That's a different class.)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-85127515824907860332007-09-23T00:17:00.000-04:002007-09-23T00:22:02.699-04:00LacanIs this a real sentence?<br /><blockquote>This passion of the signifier thus becomes a new dimension of the human condition in that it is not only man who speaks, but in man and through man that it speaks; <em>in that his nature becomes woven by effects in which the structure of the language of which he becomes the material can be refound</em>; and in that the relation of speech thus resonates in him, beyond anything that could have been conceived of by the psychology of ideas.</blockquote><br />I don't think you're allowed to have that many prepositional phrases in a row.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-46622632880610198162007-09-19T17:34:00.000-04:002007-09-19T17:38:26.664-04:00Two PagesAll I had to do was write two pages, and it didn't even need to have any of my own thoughts. Just explain someone else's argument. I didn't write my paper to be the most mediocre in the class, or the worst in the class, I wrote it to be the best in the class. Of course, when the top four papers were chosen (one of which I happened to think was the <em>worst</em> of all 13 papers, but no matter), mine was not among them.<br /><br />What am I doing here if I can't even write a good two-page, ungraded, analytic-argument paper?<br /><br />But I guess this is a good time to make these mistakes, before it really counts. But honestly, if I can't be the best at what I do, I don't even know why I would bother.<br /><br />End self-deprecating post.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-72522093730925866822007-09-18T21:03:00.000-04:002007-09-18T21:07:41.981-04:00OrientationGraduate-student orientation today. Since my program has been going for a week and a half now, we've already heard from most of these people. By around 3:30, people were in a line somewhere between 50-100 people long, waiting for free beer, soda and appetizers, after having had a free lunch of really good, substantial food only a couple of hours before.<br /><br />Also read through my discussion group's papers today. I really can't tell if the ones that were bad just didn't try since it wasn't graded, or if there are really some idiots in this class.<br /><br />................................................................<br /><br />If you've read Dawkins's <strong><em>God Delusion</em></strong>, you already know that this is really funny, especially starting with #36: <a href="http://www.godlessgeeks.com/LINKS/GodProof.htm">http://www.godlessgeeks.com/LINKS/GodProof.htm</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31591256.post-36873650211451847192007-09-17T19:40:00.001-04:002007-09-17T19:49:06.449-04:00An Open Letter to My Fellow StudentsI try to believe the best about people. I really do. But then, you go and spill coffee on the floor in the row behind me, and since it's stadium-style seating, the downward grade of the floor helps it find its way to my personal belongings. I try to believe you're not all cowardly, insecure, privileged douchebags, but then not only does the coffee-spiller not say anything but <em>no one at all</em> says anything to me about it, not even giving me the chance to pick up my bag and save the things inside from being ruined.<br /><br />"You should feel lucky," you think, "that it didn't soak into your iPod, your phone, your wallet, coin purse and headphones, and only ruined one book instead of two. Your notes were spared, and isn't that the most important thing? Besides, now the smell of coffee will permeate your bag for years to come. And look, the girl in front of you has a Louis Vuitton, so it's probably best this way."<br /><br />Thanks, fellow students, for letting my bag, my book and a jacket I've had for 12 years get soaked through with coffee. You now number among the many hundreds of reasons why I will never assume that anyone is ever going to be nice to me.<br /><br />All my best,Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1