"I'm like a bull in a china shop- I have the grace of a walrus. And that is why I don't like small children."
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
"The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T. S. Eliot
One of my favorite professors assigned this (along with other poems) as this Friday's reading assignment for one of my favorite classes. It is now one of my favorite pieces, nulling my former opinion of Eliot's work (I did not have a good experience with The Waste Land). I read this tonight with Iron & Wine Radio going in the background, and it fit perfectly.
Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question. . .
Oh, do not ask, "What is it?"
Let us go and make our visit.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions
And for a hundred visions and revisions
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, "Do I dare?" and, "Do I dare?"
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
[They will say: "How his hair is growing thin!"]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: "But how his arms and legs are thin!"]
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
For I have known them all already, known them all;
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?
And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
Is it perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
. . . . .
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? . . .
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
. . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep . . . tired . . . or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet–and here's no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.
And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: "I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all"
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say, "That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all."
And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
"That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all."
. . . . .
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.
I grow old . . . I grow old . . .
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question. . .
Oh, do not ask, "What is it?"
Let us go and make our visit.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions
And for a hundred visions and revisions
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, "Do I dare?" and, "Do I dare?"
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
[They will say: "How his hair is growing thin!"]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: "But how his arms and legs are thin!"]
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
For I have known them all already, known them all;
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?
And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?
And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
Is it perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
. . . . .
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? . . .
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
. . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep . . . tired . . . or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet–and here's no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.
And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: "I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all"
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say, "That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all."
And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
"That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all."
. . . . .
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.
I grow old . . . I grow old . . .
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think they will sing to me.
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
so cliché
a trite, stereotyped phrase; a sentence or phrase, usually expressing a common thought or idea, that has lost originality by long overuse
I have a problem. Specifically, a problem with people who belittle the use of clichés even when the phrases sit perfectly in context. There is a reason clichés are worn to pieces- because once upon a time, they were new phrases that someone loved and therefor tried to use in all sorts of situations. A cliché is only a cliché because, to someone, it was once that first song that cut to the core of your soul, the song you played over and over until you could hear it in your dreams. Anyways, here are a few of my favorites.
Please don't let what was get in the way of what's next.
Use things, not people. Love people, not things.
Small people talk about people. Average people talk about things. Great people talk about ideas.
Well behaved women rarely make history.
You have enemies? Good, it means you've stood up for something in your life.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Good Job Oscar
Recently, while reading a very popular piece of fiction (I am NOT going to specify as to what this is), I ran across a lovely phrase...
Sometimes, kismet happens.
Anyways, I thought this was spectacular because just last week one of the dictionary.com words of the day was kismet. Normally I would just be jazzed about the word of the day thing (I only recently discovered this because I epically fail at noticing stuff on websites) but we have this thing going on at the office where every day one of my coworkers pulls out his iphone and its nifty word of the day app and we all chuckle and try to make fun sentences with the word. Anyways, for those of you who don't know, kismet means fate.
Sometimes, kismet happens.
Anyways, I thought this was spectacular because just last week one of the dictionary.com words of the day was kismet. Normally I would just be jazzed about the word of the day thing (I only recently discovered this because I epically fail at noticing stuff on websites) but we have this thing going on at the office where every day one of my coworkers pulls out his iphone and its nifty word of the day app and we all chuckle and try to make fun sentences with the word. Anyways, for those of you who don't know, kismet means fate.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Saturday, March 26, 2011
oh damn
Mamihlapinatapai "a look shared by two people, each wishing that the other would initiate something that they both desire but which neither wants to begin"
Thursday, March 24, 2011
An Ode to Thom (and a nerdasm)
Not as outrageously nerdy and literary as Carmen, but definitely just as amusing. Unfortunately I haven't been keeping up with all of the funny stuff for nearly as long as I should've been, so the list is rather short. Here are a few of his catch phrases...
awesome and a half.
bombdiggity (one of favorites)
the platypus face- :x
coolbeans
trollin some nubs
"I'm gravy" (which is approximately a 9 on a how-I'm-doing scale of 10)
sucks donkey balls
Wow, the list is even shorter than I thought.
nerdasm: an orgasmic sort of euphoria set off by a particularly nerdy subject such as comic books, physics, obscure movies, or literature.
awesome and a half.
bombdiggity (one of favorites)
the platypus face- :x
coolbeans
trollin some nubs
"I'm gravy" (which is approximately a 9 on a how-I'm-doing scale of 10)
sucks donkey balls
Wow, the list is even shorter than I thought.
nerdasm: an orgasmic sort of euphoria set off by a particularly nerdy subject such as comic books, physics, obscure movies, or literature.
So I am a complete and utter nerd- I know, I know, big surprise. Anyways, as I am sure you all know, Dictionary.com has a word of the day. I recently discovered that this has been going on since the Y2K scare (yeah, I know! long. time.) Anyways, I thought it might be neat to look up the word of the day for one day of each year, like a holiday or something. And since I had a cup of narcissism after dinner, I figured my birthday would work just as well as Christmas or Valentine's Day. So here ya go.
1999: panoply: a splendid or impressive array
2000: execrable: detestable; extremely bad.
2001: surly: ill-humored; sullen and gruff.
2002: wayworn: wearied by traveling.
2003: arcane: understood or known by only a few.
2004: empyrean: the highest heaven; the heavens; the sky.
2005: redivivus: living again; revived; restored.
2006: machination: a crafty scheme intended to accomplish some usually evil end.
2007: vicissitude: a change in condition or fortune.
2008: bulwark: a protective structure
2009: myrmidon: a loyal follower.
2010: tristful: full of sadness; sorrowful.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
dear void
"Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life - well, valuable, but small - and sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven't been brave? So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn't it be the other way around? I don't really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void. So good night, dear void."
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Oh Goodness
It's been a while- HI GUYS!
Anyways, normally I would say something snarky to the effect of "I'm not dead!" but that seems a tad silly considering the day's events. As I am sure most of you know, I am a bit of a caffeine addict. I have recently (this term used very loosely) discovered that caffeine has some undesirable effects on my blood sugar. For whatever reason, I decided Sunday evening that it was high time for me to quit. It was not until this morning, however, when I woke up to a migraine the size of Kentucky sitting in my temples and to what felt like a Nausea-Monster trying to escape my stomach that I realized this was a bad idea. Today, I almost died of massive caffeine withdrawal.
In other news, Bestie and I have decided we spend enough time together that we must have a collaborative name like those cutesy celebrity couples. We are Rair, hear us rawr.
Books all of you should read:
The Mortal Instruments series by Cassandra Clare
Watchmen and V for Vendetta by Alan Moore
The Sandman series by Neil Gaiman
Candide by Voltaire
Phrase of the Week:
"ostentatiously flabbergasted"
Friday, March 11, 2011
An Ode to Carmen
God's Way
You know that phrase "Friends are God's way of apologizing for family"? Well whoever came up that was a genius. GENIUS. And probably had certain parts of my family in mind. But that is beside the point. Anyways, my bestie (lovely girly word) and I have come up with an ongoing chain of phrases based on that phrase.
As it always is with the best and most humorous ideas, this started with French fries.
"French fries are God's way of apologizing for salads."
"Chick-Fil-A is God's way of apologizing for McDonald's"
"Coffee is God's way of apologizing for the toils of college."
"Espresso is God's way of apologizing for people who make weak coffee."
"Being home is God's way of apologizing for packing."
And here are a few of our better collective moments...
ME: "where spanish violently mauls your soul as a rabid grizzly bear, german systematically eats away at mine like that gross spider thing" Bestie is a English major, Spanish/Psych double minor. I'm the same thing, but with German. Her Spanish class has been horrifically hard for her, and German has been about as difficult for me as 2+2 is for an astrophysicist.
ME: apparently hondas are supposed to survive the apocalypse along with twinkies and cockroaches, but i don't wanna risk a drive to LSU
ME: Who gives a FLYING PIXIE? The job that Bestie and I both do is incredibly dull, and has elicited angry outbursts from the both of us. Since my angry outbursts would usually (and understandably) contain curse words, I had to come up with a fun alternative that would not result in angry words from my boss. So pixie is now a curse word.
BESTIE: I fall down the stairs, H gets eaten by an elevator... I don't know what's going to happen to you two (ME and Boy C), but one time it's probably going to involve a lawn mower. H. and Bestie have had a series of Final Destination-esque moments over the past couple of weeks. It's beyond the point of funny- now it's just kind of creepy/eerie.
ME: do you want to just trade pancreases? I'm diabetic. She's not.
BESTIE: did you drink a cup of facetious this morning?
ME: no, but i did drink a cup of wordplay. not as strong, but quite a bit smoother, in spite of its rudimentary name. Apparently, I was being a smart ass.
BESTIE: Your English major is exposed! It's EXPOSED!
ME: it's so gratifying see that type of fear flare up in someone who could crush me with their big toe. I swear I have short man syndrome.
BESTIE and BROTHER:
You know that phrase "Friends are God's way of apologizing for family"? Well whoever came up that was a genius. GENIUS. And probably had certain parts of my family in mind. But that is beside the point. Anyways, my bestie (lovely girly word) and I have come up with an ongoing chain of phrases based on that phrase.
As it always is with the best and most humorous ideas, this started with French fries.
"French fries are God's way of apologizing for salads."
"Chick-Fil-A is God's way of apologizing for McDonald's"
"Coffee is God's way of apologizing for the toils of college."
"Espresso is God's way of apologizing for people who make weak coffee."
"Being home is God's way of apologizing for packing."
And here are a few of our better collective moments...
ME: "where spanish violently mauls your soul as a rabid grizzly bear, german systematically eats away at mine like that gross spider thing" Bestie is a English major, Spanish/Psych double minor. I'm the same thing, but with German. Her Spanish class has been horrifically hard for her, and German has been about as difficult for me as 2+2 is for an astrophysicist.
ME: apparently hondas are supposed to survive the apocalypse along with twinkies and cockroaches, but i don't wanna risk a drive to LSU
ME: Who gives a FLYING PIXIE? The job that Bestie and I both do is incredibly dull, and has elicited angry outbursts from the both of us. Since my angry outbursts would usually (and understandably) contain curse words, I had to come up with a fun alternative that would not result in angry words from my boss. So pixie is now a curse word.
BESTIE: I fall down the stairs, H gets eaten by an elevator... I don't know what's going to happen to you two (ME and Boy C), but one time it's probably going to involve a lawn mower. H. and Bestie have had a series of Final Destination-esque moments over the past couple of weeks. It's beyond the point of funny- now it's just kind of creepy/eerie.
BESTIE:
thank you for being
my bestie twinnie-poo
despite my snarky
ness.
We like haikus...
ME: my computer drove your computer's parents insane. My computer's name is Bellatrix, her's, Neville. Yes, we're Harry Potter nerds.
BESTIE: Festering might as well be an onomatopoeia; when you think of something festering, the sound it makes is 'fester!fester!fester!
ME: i ain't yo babushka!
ME: she needs to get rid of half of her soul. she'd still have twice as much as everyone else. Bestie walks around with a halo and wings. I barely hide my horns. This is an ongoing amusement to not only us, but everyone who knows us.
BESTIE: it was a beautiful accident!
ME: the best ones are. like babies.
thank you for being
my bestie twinnie-poo
despite my snarky
ness.
We like haikus...
ME: my computer drove your computer's parents insane. My computer's name is Bellatrix, her's, Neville. Yes, we're Harry Potter nerds.
BESTIE: Festering might as well be an onomatopoeia; when you think of something festering, the sound it makes is 'fester!fester!fester!
ME: i ain't yo babushka!
ME: she needs to get rid of half of her soul. she'd still have twice as much as everyone else. Bestie walks around with a halo and wings. I barely hide my horns. This is an ongoing amusement to not only us, but everyone who knows us.
BESTIE: it was a beautiful accident!
ME: the best ones are. like babies.
ME: do you want to just trade pancreases? I'm diabetic. She's not.
BESTIE: did you drink a cup of facetious this morning?
ME: no, but i did drink a cup of wordplay. not as strong, but quite a bit smoother, in spite of its rudimentary name. Apparently, I was being a smart ass.
BESTIE: Your English major is exposed! It's EXPOSED!
ME: it's so gratifying see that type of fear flare up in someone who could crush me with their big toe. I swear I have short man syndrome.
BESTIE and BROTHER:
"Do you know string theory at all?"
"I saw a book once that said string theory on it..."
"I saw a book once that said string theory on it..."
Late night conversations with Drake are always fun. They inevitably deteriorate into an ambiguous mass of inside jokes, physics, grammar, and youtube video references.
ME: she's gonna be one of those parents who gives her child a lemon just to watch its face. i.e. a sort of horrible parent in regard to all of the unimportant parts
BESTIE:
ME: she's gonna be one of those parents who gives her child a lemon just to watch its face. i.e. a sort of horrible parent in regard to all of the unimportant parts
BESTIE:
because you were born
a month before i was born
you are freaking old.
a month before i was born
you are freaking old.
I am exactly a month older than her. Freaky, huh?
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Housekeeping
So you know that awesome stickynotes application on the new computers? Well, I've fallen in love with it (probably has something to do with my post-it fetish...) and as such, my desktop is all cluttered and such. So I am posting my running list of book/movie/music recommendations on here, so that I can clean up my desktop just a tad.
The Art of Biblical Narrative (Dr. Camp)
"What is Art?" -Leo Tolstoy (Jared recommended this as a good first Tolstoy)
"Christabel" by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
"It's Kind of a Funny Story"
"The Great Divorce"
Skins (television show)
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds (band recomm. by Andy Argh!)
The Art of Biblical Narrative (Dr. Camp)
"What is Art?" -Leo Tolstoy (Jared recommended this as a good first Tolstoy)
"Christabel" by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
"It's Kind of a Funny Story"
"The Great Divorce"
Skins (television show)
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds (band recomm. by Andy Argh!)
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Loving someone is knowing everything about them and not particularly caring
From what I understand, prayer and scripture help people love God. I sort of understand this, as one is talking to Him and one is reading a story centered about Him. But I can not relate to this. I don't feel close to God when I'm praying; I feel like I'm leaving a message on an answering machine. "Hey God, it's Clair again. The thing with my parents is really bugging me, and I used a curse word the other day. Sorry. Anyways, get back to me when you can. You know where to find me." Click. The end. And I don't think "wow, God really is great" when I read the Bible. I think something along the lines of "hey, that's cool!" Though I must admit I love all of the literary-ness of scripture; to me, the effort He put into scripture really comes out in the words, and that effort translates to his love for us. That thought process doesn't really come up unless I am forced into a corner with a question like "How does the Bible illustrate God's love for us?"
But I still don't innately feel loved by Him or feel love for Him in these circumstances.
In chapel, when the student body is singing in chorus. Or on top of Monte Sano, where you can see the valleys and mountains and everything in between. Or in the achingly tender love of a man, or a friend, or my mother. That's where I find His love and my own love for Him. The feeling of infinity that appears when I am but one in a crowd of thousands, the beauty of music or nature, the contentment in baring my soul to another.
In Surprised by Joy, CS Lewis uses a "little 'r' big 'r'" explanation to prove God's existence; because we, reasoning beings (little 'r') exist, then a greater reasoning being (big 'r') must exist. This greater being, of course, is meant to be God. I think this concept applies to my situation. Being one in the crowd mimics being annihilated in the infinite, baring my soul to another mimics baring it to God. Nature and music god set in this world for our enjoyment, showing His love for us.
But I still don't innately feel loved by Him or feel love for Him in these circumstances.
In chapel, when the student body is singing in chorus. Or on top of Monte Sano, where you can see the valleys and mountains and everything in between. Or in the achingly tender love of a man, or a friend, or my mother. That's where I find His love and my own love for Him. The feeling of infinity that appears when I am but one in a crowd of thousands, the beauty of music or nature, the contentment in baring my soul to another.
In Surprised by Joy, CS Lewis uses a "little 'r' big 'r'" explanation to prove God's existence; because we, reasoning beings (little 'r') exist, then a greater reasoning being (big 'r') must exist. This greater being, of course, is meant to be God. I think this concept applies to my situation. Being one in the crowd mimics being annihilated in the infinite, baring my soul to another mimics baring it to God. Nature and music god set in this world for our enjoyment, showing His love for us.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
My lovely sonnet
My lovely dear, your friendship I treasure.
In moments of angst, I can find relief,
Soft sighs that soothe with the greatest pleasure;
Sweet tenderness comforts beyond belief.
Chats, or dialogs rather, last so long,
Long enough to alleviate time's hum.
An hour, a minute, a line in a song
I sing with my ears open, my mouth numb.
Reminiscing times together,
Forgetting not a single word or phrase,
Loving you the same as gather'd brether',
Your laugh, your smile continuously stays.
Never have I had a friend held so dear,
Never would I want another; that's clear.
Written by Jared McCoy
In moments of angst, I can find relief,
Soft sighs that soothe with the greatest pleasure;
Sweet tenderness comforts beyond belief.
Chats, or dialogs rather, last so long,
Long enough to alleviate time's hum.
An hour, a minute, a line in a song
I sing with my ears open, my mouth numb.
Reminiscing times together,
Forgetting not a single word or phrase,
Loving you the same as gather'd brether',
Your laugh, your smile continuously stays.
Never have I had a friend held so dear,
Never would I want another; that's clear.
Written by Jared McCoy
Thursday, March 3, 2011
rambles regarding religion (and a spot of randomocity)
*Free Will n. philosophy: the doctrine that the conduct of human beings expresses personal choice and is not simply determined by physical or divine forces.
Let me begin with a disclaimer: if you do not believe in free will and have a tendency to get all bent out of shape by people who do, you might want to stop reading.GREAT! Now that that is out of the way... people who do not believe in free will truly crack me up. I get this visual of some mousy character, very sexless as well, just bumbling along saying stuff like "Well if God wills it...." and "Its not like I have a choice..." We have been discussing this in my CS Lewis Topic Philosophy class, and the topic of Epistemic Distance came up. Epistemic distance is a distance in knowledge, but in the Biblical sense of the word "know," as in to be with something is to know the something. We spoke in class about how we would not have free will if God did not keep an appropriate epistemic distance from us. He must neither be too close nor too far, for in the end the choice to love Him and follow Him must be ours and ours alone. "We are free, and God has granted us this great gift of freedom in a desire that we will use this to be with Him; united with Him and still distinct."
*The Ten Commandments (slightly... okay, really abbreviated)
1. No other gods
2. No idols
3. Do not take the Lord's name in vain
4. Keep the Sabbath
5. Honor your parents
6. Do not kill
7. Do not commit adultery
8. Do not steal
9. Do not bear false witness
10. Do not covet
A lot of people think- or at least, a lot of people in my Bible class think- that because the Ten Commandments are of the Old Testament, and thus made obsolete by the whole Jesus thing, they do not apply to Christians and do not need to be strictly followed by Christians. I disagree (otherwise I would not be rambling about it all). These laws/rules are often taken out of context, or elaborated upon to ensure the obedience of those who keep them, or just neglected because of apathy or arrogance, and I believe these unfortunaties happen because of a gross misinterpretation of the Law. God set these ten little things out for humanity so as to protect us from ourselves and each other, and to allow the love due to neighbor and self and God to grow. Of course, some of these rules are a kind of "no duh" statement- don't kill, steal, sleep around, lie- and thus fairly easy to follow. Others are sneaky- we think we follow them when in actuality we are in direct rebellion against them. Do not worship idols. An idol can be anything, from the typical culprits- sex, money, drugs- to the less obvious ones- children, family, country. How many times has our society put a greater emphasis on children than the relationship that made them; how many times has a nationalistic fervor racked our country; how many times has someone done an atrocity in the name of family. Honor your parents, which, by the way, does not merely mean respecting them. It means being the type of person that makes people praise those who made one that way. Personally, I hope that every word that falls from my mouth illuminates my mother and father for the extraordinary parents they are. Keep the Sabbath. This is the one statement that so many people seem to have a serious problem with. It was set in place for two reasons: to provide rest for everyone and to allow time to worship. The Sabbath, in true God-fashion, is logical to its core. Humans need rest, but we often deprive ourselves and each other of this necessity; God fixed this problem by making it required. Kind of like a bedtime for humanity. So yeah, maybe the Law was sort of condensed and/or negated by Christ, but honestly? We should do this stuff even if we no longer are required to.
On the random:
This afternoon, I sat in on a lecture regarding chaos theory and fractals and they are FREAKING AMAZING! I have an inner math nerd, and she is very happy right now.The lecture was in conjunction with a play going on right now- Arcadia by Tom Stoppard. The play is fantabulously hilarious.
*I encourage anyone who either disagrees with me or is very enthusiastic in their agreeing to comment, But please, keep it friendly.
Let me begin with a disclaimer: if you do not believe in free will and have a tendency to get all bent out of shape by people who do, you might want to stop reading.GREAT! Now that that is out of the way... people who do not believe in free will truly crack me up. I get this visual of some mousy character, very sexless as well, just bumbling along saying stuff like "Well if God wills it...." and "Its not like I have a choice..." We have been discussing this in my CS Lewis Topic Philosophy class, and the topic of Epistemic Distance came up. Epistemic distance is a distance in knowledge, but in the Biblical sense of the word "know," as in to be with something is to know the something. We spoke in class about how we would not have free will if God did not keep an appropriate epistemic distance from us. He must neither be too close nor too far, for in the end the choice to love Him and follow Him must be ours and ours alone. "We are free, and God has granted us this great gift of freedom in a desire that we will use this to be with Him; united with Him and still distinct."
*The Ten Commandments (slightly... okay, really abbreviated)
1. No other gods
2. No idols
3. Do not take the Lord's name in vain
4. Keep the Sabbath
5. Honor your parents
6. Do not kill
7. Do not commit adultery
8. Do not steal
9. Do not bear false witness
10. Do not covet
A lot of people think- or at least, a lot of people in my Bible class think- that because the Ten Commandments are of the Old Testament, and thus made obsolete by the whole Jesus thing, they do not apply to Christians and do not need to be strictly followed by Christians. I disagree (otherwise I would not be rambling about it all). These laws/rules are often taken out of context, or elaborated upon to ensure the obedience of those who keep them, or just neglected because of apathy or arrogance, and I believe these unfortunaties happen because of a gross misinterpretation of the Law. God set these ten little things out for humanity so as to protect us from ourselves and each other, and to allow the love due to neighbor and self and God to grow. Of course, some of these rules are a kind of "no duh" statement- don't kill, steal, sleep around, lie- and thus fairly easy to follow. Others are sneaky- we think we follow them when in actuality we are in direct rebellion against them. Do not worship idols. An idol can be anything, from the typical culprits- sex, money, drugs- to the less obvious ones- children, family, country. How many times has our society put a greater emphasis on children than the relationship that made them; how many times has a nationalistic fervor racked our country; how many times has someone done an atrocity in the name of family. Honor your parents, which, by the way, does not merely mean respecting them. It means being the type of person that makes people praise those who made one that way. Personally, I hope that every word that falls from my mouth illuminates my mother and father for the extraordinary parents they are. Keep the Sabbath. This is the one statement that so many people seem to have a serious problem with. It was set in place for two reasons: to provide rest for everyone and to allow time to worship. The Sabbath, in true God-fashion, is logical to its core. Humans need rest, but we often deprive ourselves and each other of this necessity; God fixed this problem by making it required. Kind of like a bedtime for humanity. So yeah, maybe the Law was sort of condensed and/or negated by Christ, but honestly? We should do this stuff even if we no longer are required to.
On the random:
This afternoon, I sat in on a lecture regarding chaos theory and fractals and they are FREAKING AMAZING! I have an inner math nerd, and she is very happy right now.The lecture was in conjunction with a play going on right now- Arcadia by Tom Stoppard. The play is fantabulously hilarious.
*I encourage anyone who either disagrees with me or is very enthusiastic in their agreeing to comment, But please, keep it friendly.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
"Energy Drink Generation" -Jared McCoy
In a conversation today about Coffee and Cigarettes, Victoria and I were discussing the scene with Iggy Pop and Tom Waits. Tom says that he and Iggy are part of the “coffee and cigarettes” generation, while people in the ’40s, like Abbott and Costello, were part of the “pie and coffee” generation.
Well, then the begged question becomes, “What is my generation?”
After a little bit of thinking, the answer hit plain as day: the energy drink generation. Everything in our lives is about dodging sleep and trying to be as efficient as possible (whatever that means). We even commonly get our coffee in to-go cups because life is moving way too fast for us to actually enjoy anything. No one my age that I know has readWar and Peace or The Brothers Karamazov, and I think this has something to do with our utter inability to get an attention span together.
In fact, congratulations if you’ve read this far. In the textbook for my reporting class, one of the commentators states that he can’t handle a blog with paragraphs longer than three sentences. And this guy works for a freaking newspaper!
I think my biggest connection to this is a disappointment with my generation. We’re not going to be known for anything great. People in the future will remember that we couldn’t pay attention and whined about not getting our way.
This lovely little piece was originally found on the blog of a good friend of mine; I would advise all to check it out: http://typewriterfetish.tumblr.com/ Also, everyone should at least suffer through Tom Waits' music. I advise first-timers to listen to "Jersey Girl" and "Chocolate Jesus."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)